Over and over. It never stops.
The constant screaming inside her head, screaming at her, screaming for her, it was hard to tell at times. Some days, things were okay, things were just as they had always been. But other days, that's when it descended, like some callous bird searching for its prey, swooping down on innocent people, casting a dark shadow over their lives.
It was one thing she had always strived to be, the fixer. Her Dad used to smooth her hair and smile, "Jenny", he'd say, laughing, "What would I ever do without you?"
And that's the thing, what would anyone do without her. But what happens when the person that holds it all together starts to fall apart? People don't notice it outright, they don't notice the slight change in behaviour, and why would they? It's nothing drastic.
Every now again, she allows herself to fall apart, generally in the night time, just before she succumbs to sleep, this evil shadow settles over her, and drains the life out of every cell her body possesses. She blames herself, for everything. For everything that has happened that she couldn't see at the time and couldn't control, still can't. And the tears come, and they come, and they don't stop until every muscle in her body is screaming to. Until her throat is raw and feels like it's going to split in two, and until nothing is visible through the crack of light that now fits in between her swollen eyelids.
Things happen, and you can't always control why, but they do. It's a fact of life.
Lying there, she makes a decision. She's done. She's finished with caring about anything, anything that has ever hurt her or made her turn away from the people she cares most about. Her walls go back up tighter, and she curses herself for letting people in, for letting herself be so stupid for thinking it would be the last thing someone screws her over.
Life is life. You're born. You die.
And if there is one thing Jennifer Jareau has learned, is that nobody can survive the in-between unscathed.
