You Don't Know

by miss.ouiser

One-shot short fic exploring Jean's thoughts in 2.10, after Jack's arrest but before Jean confronts the mob outside the house. My first Blake fic. I own nothing, am just borrowing them. Review if you have the time.

1. Chapter 1

"Jean, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No, there's a lot you don't know."

You don't know what I went through with my boys after Christopher died, how I wish I could have done better, how I failed them. That I long to see the world outside of Ballarat. That I don't like going to the movies alone.

You notice everything, but see nothing. Not among the living, anyway. When you are working on a case, you never stop questioning, investigating, badgering. But do you know my maiden name, my favorite colour, that Persuasion is my favorite book, or that I don't like Brussels sprouts, but that I love chocolate?

You don't know how much it hurts that you don't ask. You don't know how much it hurts to be invisible.

You don't know that you aren't the only one in this house who is just going through the motions some days.

You don't know that I cringe every time you go near my plants. Or how badly I want to buy new furniture for the sitting room. But I am the housekeeper, not the homemaker. This is your house, not my home.

You don't know that I listen for you shouting in the darkness like a frightened child. You don't know how much I want to comfort you, to make the nightmares go away.

Do you know that you aren't the only one who cries in the night?

You don't know that I pray for you.

You don't know how hard it is some days to ignore the whispering.

You don't know that I lay awake at night, waiting to hear you come in the door. That it bothers me when you drink and drive. You don't know how much your drinking worries me.

You don't know how my heart contracts, watching you sail too close to the shore, wondering when you will wreck on the rocky coast. I will be there to pick up the pieces, but will I be enough?

You are like your mother's room, so much kept hidden and locked away, even from those who may be closest to you. It is as if you are afraid of what you will find if you unlock the door.

Do you know that when you don't get your way, or when you've made a mess of something, that you pout like a naughty school boy, and I cannot stay mad at you?

Do you know that when you smile, really smile, there is laughter in your eyes, and I can see the years fall away and I wonder how I can make you smile again?

And I pray to God that you don't know how hard I am trying to not fall in love with you.