Do you ever have the feeling when you want to cry but the tears won't fall or when you need to scream but no sound is heard. The air is sucked out of you all you can do is shiver and think about how this is like dying. This is when you suddenly take a long breathe and realize that you've been holding your breath all along. It's this near death experience that keeps you sane. Slowly you will have a more rhythmic breathing and the tears will start to fall. But the necessity to scream, the fear, all gone.
Some say this kind of behavior is not healthy but for me this is how I survive. It's how I cope with it. It's how I can deal with the fact that he's not around anymore. I'm not accepting it, believe me I'm not, but I deal with it. But every night all facts and science are wrong. At night, in my dreams, he's still here, I feel him, hear him and most of all I see him.
I'm Angela and this my story about Jack, the man I once loved to hate. The same man that I had lost to what I thought was a vile man but later on found out it was a woman. This woman was FBI, one of the good guys as Booth used to say. What happened to Jack changed that view forever.
When Booth dragged Brennan up from the sand I waited Jack's scrawny face to pop up right after her. Why wasn't he showing up, had he dug himself up somewhere else and I'd missed it? I now sat on my knees afraid of what would happen.
"Hodgins?" Booth asked Brennan gently.
I reacted to his name and looked up to see her shaking her head and fall into Booth's embrace. How could this be? That man is Jack Hodgins, the expert in bugs and slime. He spend so much time with them so he himself were like a bug. And bugs never died. Maybe Brennan ment that he was somewhere else. Not with her, maybe the gravedigger had put them in different places and Jack found a way out. Maybe he's resting in a hospital back in D.C. If he was, I would yell at him for making me this worried.
Someone nudge me.
"Jack?"
"No,Angela. Look, I'm so.."
I blocked out the rest. I didn't want to know what he had to say. Booth was a good guy but all I cared about is to see Jack. Everything else didn't matter.
Damn you, Jack Hodgins. Where the hell are you? The tears ran down my face and the last thing I remember is the bright light disappearing and someone calling my name.
A/N:I don't know I should continue with this, I cried my eyes out when I wrote this short thing. I originally intended this to be a longer one-shot. I have ideas of how I should continue but if you have an idea, I would love to hear it. If someone is interested in reading this I will continue writing. Constructive criticism is always good.