Author's Note: I swear, this is only a short story, it'll be done this week; that's why I'm posting chapter 1 and 2 together.
Chapter 1
The morning of January 9th brought rain; the usual flat light of winter muted further by the grey sky outside the bedroom window. Jim Beckett shifted quietly; doing his best not to disturb Johanna as she laid next to him, curled up on her side and facing the window. He knew she was awake; that she had slept fitfully and been awake for hours.
A sigh pushed against his lips but he managed to suppress it before it slipped into the oppressive, quiet air of the room. He had pulled her out of one nightmare during the night…she had jerked awake from another one on her own. She had tossed and turned and he had acted oblivious as he knew she'd want him to…and he had acted that same way when she slipped out of bed at five and left the room, the sound of the bathtub filling following shortly after. She had returned at six and he had watched through slitted lids as she stood by the window staring out at the raindrops that pelted the glass. By six-thirty, she had crawled back into bed, and she had been there ever since.
Jim released a soft breath; it was too quiet despite the sound of the rain…and the occasional sniffle from his wife as she cried quietly. The silence was suffocating and yet he hadn't gathered the courage to break into Johanna's thoughts and coax her to talk. He didn't reach for the remote and turn on the TV to chase away the silence. Instead he continued to listen to the rain drops against the glass; it felt fitting that it would rain today.
It was her second January at home and yet earning her freedom and rebuilding her life hadn't erased the power or the pain of the memory of January 9, 1999. Jim breathed deeply; he couldn't blame her for not being able to let go of the significance of the date; it was the one date on the calendar that made him uncomfortable; as if his brain was still reconciling that fact that he no longer had to mourn the day; that what he had lost had been found and restored to him. It was still the anniversary of the day his world fell apart though; and yet he felt like he could get through it and feel alright for the simple fact that he could reach out and touch her, see her, hear her breathing…and if he wanted, he could lay his ear against her chest and listen to the beat of her heart. The proof that she was alive and well was all he needed to be able to push past the darkness…but it was different for Johanna.
For Johanna, it was the anniversary of the day her world had been obliterated in every way possible. For her it was the remembrance that someone had chosen that day to be her last; and if it hadn't been for a tip to the F.B.I.; it very well could have been. It was the remembrance of the lies she was forced to tell; the years spent alone, the anger, the grief, the healing still to be done.
She had been doing better, Jim thought to himself; her bouts of depression and anxiety were few and far between but as the New Year settled in, he could see it building within her, like storm clouds on the horizon and he had been helpless to stop it. The closer the day got, the more agitated she got, despite her efforts to hide it. She bounced between keeping herself busy with every household project she could think of and being oddly quiet as she curled up in front of the TV. By the time the eighth arrived, she had folded up within herself, saying little, eating little, lost in her thoughts and unable to concentrate on the new book laying on the nightstand.
He didn't know what to do; just as he hadn't known what to do the year before when the date rolled around, and so he had allowed her to stay in bed all day, because that's what she had wanted; and he overlooked the fact that she took a long bath in the morning and then two more showers during the day…and he suspected that she'd do that again today; as if she was still trying to wash away the grime of the deed that had been done despite his assurances that she was clean. She would be sullen and quiet, a shell of the woman he loved…and he didn't know how to make it go away, how to push against the clouds that hovered over her and made her mood fade to black.
Jim glanced at the clock; it was eight…he was supposed to work but he wasn't sure he should go; he hadn't planned on it but hadn't said anything to anyone in case his wife wanted space for the day. He couldn't help thinking that maybe space wasn't the best idea for her though.
With that thought in mind, he moved close to her, his chest pressing against her back as he wrapped his arm around her, his lips pressing a kiss against her hair. "Are you getting up?" he murmured.
Johanna shook her head as her hand curled around his, her grip tight.
"Come on, sweetheart," he said gently. "It's alright."
"I don't want to," she replied tearfully.
"I know…but maybe you'd feel better if you did."
Another shake of her head and silence. "It's just a day," he remarked quietly. "Just like every other day on the calendar."
"That's not true and you know it," Johanna whispered.
"I know…it's a day when bad things happened; but that's over now. You're home. You're safe. You're here with me. He can't ever hurt you again."
"But I remember," she cried.
"I know, sweetheart; so do I…you just have to breathe and try to push away the darkness."
"It's not that easy…it's always there; waiting for this day to come so it can slam into me all over again," Johanna said, her tone soft and husky with tears.
Jim tightened his hold on her, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. "If I could cut this day out of the calendar for you, you know I would."
"I know…I know it's not an easy day for you to remember either."
"No; it isn't…but I can feel better just by looking at your face, holding your hand; hearing your voice. All I ever wanted was to have you back and you're here…and that makes it easier for me to get through this day. It's harder for you, I know that. I know you still carry regrets and guilt; hurt and anger. I know that on this day you relive all of it, over and over again. I know that its been dogging you ever since the year started. It's dogged me too; because I don't know what to do to help you through it."
"It's just got to pass on its on…I'll be better tomorrow."
"You always say that when you're going through one of these bouts of depression, Jo. You're so used to doing it alone that you don't know what you need to help you get through this."
"I just want to stay in bed," she muttered. "I just want to stay here and sleep until this day is over."
"I let you do that last year," Jim remarked.
"It's what I do every year."
"Maybe we need to change that."
She swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "I don't know how…I don't even know if I want to. I just want to stay in bed."
"Can you tell me why? Besides the obvious…what else makes you want to stay in bed for this entire day?"
She tensed slightly and he brushed another kiss against her hair. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me," he assured.
"I have reasons."
"Tell me."
"It's what I wish I could've done back then," Johanna whispered. "That I could've just quit the case and they'd leave me alone and I could just stay in bed for a few days until it all went away. It's not logical; but it's what I wish."
"It doesn't have to be logical," her husband replied. "What are the other reasons?"
Her grip on his hand tightened. "It's safe here," she murmured. "No one can hurt me here…because you make sure all the doors and windows are locked and you're here with me. I'm safe in this room with you."
"You're safe in every room of this house," Jim told her. "No one is going to hurt you again. We take precautions now; you have a gun, you asked me to keep the tracker on your phone because it makes you feel secure, and I've done what you asked, it's still there…and when you're out shopping or on errands without me, I do check it for peace of mind. You call when you leave, you call when you get where you're going. We're as cautious as we can be; and you've been doing very well with being your usual, independent self."
"I know…but January puts a chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the weather. I'm more scared in this month than I am the rest of the year," she admitted.
"I understand that and I don't blame you for feeling that way…but one day, it's going to be easier to get through…we just have to make the effort."
"I don't see how it can ever be easy."
"We'll find a way," Jim told her. "You can't let this day rule you, Johanna. You can't allow this whole month to have that power over you."
"I push through it as much as I can," Johanna replied, tension seeping into her voice.
"I know you do; but maybe we can work on it a little. We need to make our brains realize that January is just another month…that yes, something bad happened one January and it tore our world apart; but we've gotten it back and it can't hurt us anymore unless we let it."
"I don't know how to make the stigma go away," she whispered. "I feel it…I feel it all over my skin again."
"You're clean…I promise you're clean."
"I don't feel like I am today…I'll never feel like it in this month."
"You're going to have to find a way, sweetheart…you'll be going back to work soon."
Johanna swallowed hard. "I don't think I should've taken the job."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not sure I'm ready…I'm not sure I can walk out the door in the wintertime and go."
"You worked in Wyoming, Jo."
"I know; but that was different…I didn't have a choice…and no one knew me there; I wasn't in danger."
"You're not in danger now and you're not likely to find any teaching law classes at Columbia three mornings a week. You've worked there before; they believe in you and so do I. You can do the job, you know you can…you're just letting this day get the best of you."
"I'll be afraid to go alone," she whispered. "At least starting out…why does it have to start in January?"
So that was what was giving her cold feet, Jim thought to himself. She didn't hesitate about going to the market or visiting…but going to work alone, in the month that robbed her before, was bringing back old fears. "I'll make you a deal."
"What?" she asked.
"I'll drive you to and from work until you feel safe enough to go on your own," Jim replied.
"What about your work?"
"I'll get there; I'm not really on a set schedule. Besides; I'll tell whoever I'm working with that on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, not to expect me to a little closer to nine because I'll be dropping you off at work. I'll come back and get you at lunch time and bring you home. It's not a problem. I want you to keep this job."
"Why?"
"Because it'll be good for you…you'll have more to focus on, and maybe that will help keep the bad memories from overwhelming you. So do we have a deal? You'll keep the job and I'll drive you until you feel secure?"
Johanna breathed deeply; her stomach tied in knots. "Alright; I'll feel better if you take me for awhile."
"Okay; then that's settled. Now what about today?"
"You have to work," she said quietly.
"I could stay home with you," he offered.
Her chin trembled a little. "Could you?"
"Yes; if you want me to. I'd rather be here with you but I didn't know if you'd want space."
Johanna shook her head. "I want you to stay with me," she allowed herself to admit.
"Alright; I'll go make a few calls. I'll be back…and we'll stay in bed for a little while; but then you're getting up, sweetheart."
"Don't bet on it," she muttered as she snuggled into her pillow.
"We'll see," Jim remarked; brushing a kiss against her cheek before he grabbed his phone from the night stand and left the room.
He didn't understand, Johanna thought to herself as she listened to the rain while Jim went to make his phone calls. Or rather, he didn't understand what the day did to her…how it made her feel inside. She remembered the fear, the lies she told…she remembered her world spiraling out of control; a sense of being somehow violated as she was forced to hand over her clothes, her shoes, her purse, her name. They had stripped her of her very being in some ways. They had in a way taken her life to save it; and the memory wasn't one that she could easily chase away.
She remembered the cold; the smell of the airplane. She remembered the tears; that sterile safe house in Virginia where they had kept her until they could place her somewhere permanently. She remembered the smell of fast food and how she couldn't bring herself to eat; how she emptied her stomach until there was nothing left but the bitter taste of acid. She remembered Wyoming, the cold, the quiet; more lies…empty years of an empty life. She remembered loneliness and depression; clouds far darker than Jim had ever seen her suffocated by.
She remembered…and that was the problem. She couldn't make herself forget; she couldn't fight against it. The ninth of January came and it swallowed her up whole; sending her back into that dark pit that was so hard to break away from. She just wanted to stay in bed…where she was warm and safe; where she could smell her husband's scent, see him, touch him, hear him. She just needed to be there, in her bed, in her house, safe from the outside world.
Johanna wished she could forget; that she didn't feel the filth of January on her skin; that she didn't recall that the date was the day that her life was irrevocably split into before and after; that after forty-seven years of knowing exactly who she was and where she belonged; she was thrust into a world crafted to deceive not only her enemy; but the people she loved and herself as well. That wasn't an easy thing to push past. Nothing could be exactly as it had been 'before'…and the 'after' still needed work in some areas. In between the before and the after, was a section of time that was full of darkness and despair; fear that she'd never get back home.
Her chest tightened, her breaths becoming shorter as the turmoil of that life settled over her once again. "Breathe," Johanna told herself. "Just breathe. You're home. You're safe. Just breathe."
She managed to get herself through the attack; a shiver racing through her body as she finally brought her breathing back to its natural pattern. She would be alright…she just had to get through this day; and getting through it would be easier if she could sleep as much as possible. Surely Jim wouldn't force her out of bed; she needed to be there…it was the only way she knew how to get through it…it was too late for her to change her ways and there was nothing that could ever make her feel better about this date on the calendar.
A tear broke free and slipped down her cheek; she didn't like to be this way…didn't like to feel these things. She didn't like how this date could bring back all the fear she had struggled to get through and conquer; that this month made her fear being alone…that it made her afraid to be away from her husband, to leave the house.
Johanna didn't like feeling like a coward…she didn't like that the logical side of her brain could be so easily overpowered by fear and memories. But what more could she do? How did you go about fighting the ghost of the past when it so firmly held you within its grasp every time that certain month set in?
She breathed deeply; she knew Jim didn't think she was trying very hard when it came to the anniversary of the worst moment of her life…but she just didn't know how to give anything more. She knew he only pushed because he loved her…but she wasn't sure she could take any pushing today.
She wanted to be better when it came to this date…but she just didn't know how to achieve that; and so old tactics won out and she closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep before her husband returned to the room. She just had to get through this day…this day that always felt like it had forty-eight hours instead of twenty-four…the one day that always knocked the wind out of her.
The rain intensified, pounding against the glass of the windows and Johanna couldn't help but remember that when she was little, her mother had sometimes said that it rained when the angels cried. She couldn't help wondering if that meant her mother was crying with her today. The thought only brought more tears to her eyes and she pulled the covers tighter around her. She was home; she was safe…this day would end, and tomorrow she'd be fine; at least as fine as she could be until January faded into February.