Title: still our hands match
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Characters: Jack centered, Tooth
Genre: General/Angst/Hurt
Warnings: People will hate me for this and I'm not even sorry. A bit of language.
Title is a verse from the song "Still" by the band Daughter
still our hands match
[stop.]
(It's almost an irony – a terrible one, tragic, that is – the fact that this story begins with an end)
His cellphone rings, an upbeat tune waking him from another dreamless sleep. It takes one, two, three missed calls to make him get out of the living room couch. He was always so lethargic right after waking up, the black cushions already too confortable underneath his body for him to actually want to get out and just answer the goddamn phone. Heavy, somnolent steps taking the boy to his room, where the ringing mobile was. His cold hands search blindly – uncaring - beneath his covers and inside his bag until he finds what he is looking for.
His blue eyes widened a bit when he recognized the familiar – yet unnamed – number on the screen. A set of different numbers that he could always dial by heart. His fingers trembled – it's just a small shivering, a silly thing, he tried to reason with himself - while pressing the redial button on his phone. It was hard to admit that a small part of him wanted her to miss that call.
She picked it up by the fourth ring.
"You called?" It's rhetorical but he asks it anyways, a piece of his heart coming out of his mouth. "Sorry, I was sleeping."
The silence that follows is almost tragic, and he thinks he can hear her breathing at the other side of the line. A steady and soothing sound, mute, unresponsive. Not like her at all.
"We need to do this the right way, Jack." Her voice is quiet - unusually quiet - a soft whisper against his ear.
"You're always so methodical…" It escapes before he can give it proper thought. He regrets saying that – using that tone – when he hears a sharp inhale at her side of the line. "I'm…" She cuts his sentence before he could finish it. It would be too much. Too much to listen to those words at this point.
"It's okay. I've…" No, it was not okay. It would never be completely okay. "I've got a plan." A deep breath. "A very good one."
And, just for a tiny moment, the boy lets a smile grace his lips – a broken, bitter thing -, and he thinks he can feel her smiling too.
(Her plans are always the best, anyways)
The box feels heavy on his hands.
It's not even completely full, but it keeps on weighting down, slowing his stride while he walks to the place they agreed to meet the day before. He wonders if this was supposed to be some kind of sick metaphor someone imposed on him. On them. It's cold – too cold, even for him – and the wind starts to hurt his face with its cold fingers scratching his skin as if it wanted to rip it off his body completely. He moves the scarf more closely to his neck.
He looked at the small piece of paper where he had written the address she gave him the other day, and then looked at the abandoned house in front of him, as if trying to figure out if that was really the right place. She had a weird – endearing, irrevocably hers - taste and it showed sometimes. A dim light coming out of one of the windows told him that yes; that was it.
Pushing the rusty iron gate with one hand and awkwardly holding his box – his sick metaphor – with the other he went inside and tried to imagine how many laws they were breaking right now. By the "trespassing private property" and the probable 'vandalism' on the list inside his head he decided he didn't really care. He didn't really care as long as everything was okay in the end.
(And by okay he doesn't really know what he means. Fine, good, perfect…? Just okay)
Stepping inside the old house he follows the flickering light coming from one of the rooms. The place is so old he can hear the floor creaking beneath his feet with every step he takes and everything is covered with a thin layer of dust. Forgotten, abandoned. It makes his chest ache a little bit and he wondered if they really needed to go this far to mend things up for good, or to break them forever. You can't really predict the outcome in the end.
(And yes. They need to)
Entering the old living room he could already see her shadows moving on the white washed walls, the fire on the fireplace vivid and flickering with that sound the wood makes when lit. She was never able to endure the cold as much as he could, always shivering and complaining in the winter season. Her body was enclosed with a blanket, almost like a cocoon. And here comes the stupid life metaphors again. He wondered what she would look like when she came out of her little shield.
She was smiling. Not the broken, sad curve of perfect lips he grew used to in the past few weeks. It was a real one. Beautiful. There were some pictures of them on her hands, all from a time where everything was good and easy. Naïve. She seems so concentrated on those photos – happy – it's a pity he has to steal her thoughts away.
"Hi." And those are the most awkward two letters – one word – that have ever left his mouth. It sounded so strange – wrong – and he didn't even know why. It was just like when you say something you're not supposed to, the sound coming out ragged and just weak and nearly halting inside your lungs. Jack wonders if it was supposed to hurt this much, to look at her back and her smile.
The girl stirs a little in her spot close to the fireplace, almost as if she had been hurt.
"Hi." The smile on her face dims, but it's still there. He is grateful for that. "For a moment there, I thought you wouldn't come." Her doubt upsets him more than he would like to admit.
(More than he would like to admit because he knows she's right. In doubting him sometimes, that is)
"Never." And the boy thinks that he could do that too, smile a real smile, even if his was a bit wry at the corners of his mouth. He sits by her side in front of the fireplace, a small – enormous – distance between them, and brings his box – stupidstupidstupid sick metaphor – close to his chest. "Do you want to start?" It was more of a 'you can start' rather than a question because he knew he wouldn't be able to do it first.
"Sure…" Her answer lingers in the cold air for a minute or two before she reaches for her own box, an unmoving cardboard piece that was beside her body all this time. Placing the photos that were on her hands back on the package – a part of the boy wanted her to be saving those for later – she reaches for a folded blue paper that he recognizes instantly.
(Secretly, and oh, so selfish, he hopes her heart is breaking as much as his right now)
"Dear Tooth," The girl starts to read slowly. "This is the first letter I write to you. I wonder if I should call it a love letter? Jesus, I sound so lame right now. Sorry about that" He was sorry about lots of other things, truth be told. It's so strange to hear his own words on her voice, almost breaking and with that damn hint of fondness that kept on appearing here and there. "If you ever tell cottontail about this I swear to god I'll kill you, okay?" Tooth laughed at that part - a sound he missed greatly - just like every other time. She kept reading his words out loud, pausing to giggle, to breathe or just… Let it sink between them. "I just wanted to say that I love you."
Jack doesn't know who is saying those words anymore and the doubt kills him from the inside.
Tooth takes a very deep breath and looks at the ceiling, the telltale that she is holding back her tears, signs and quirks he knew like the back of his hand. Breathe in breathe out. She holds the wrinkled paper close to her chest as if she wanted all the words written there to just get inside her body. Her heart.
And then, just like they promised they would, she threw the letter on the fire.
"Your turn." Her answer – plea – is muffled by the sound of the flames flickering, begging to be fed. The blue paper is nothing but dust and ashes right now. He hates it, the fact that it just takes just mere seconds to burn something down. Jack doesn't want to test her patience so he fiddles with the contents of his own box.
(It takes some time until he finds something, where to start)
The boy holds a small bundle of post-its and dreads the small inaudible gasp she lets out. He feels the texture of the paper beneath his fingers, strokes the small notes written there and closes his eyes for the tiniest moment, remembering all the places she had stuck them for him to see. On his notebook, on his locker, on his back with Bunnymund laughing at him, at the screen of his cellphone… So many places yet he could remember them all.
"I love the way you smile." He starts, trying hard to swallow the lump on his throat. Jack places that note at the back of the others and proceeds on reading. "I like it when you talk about your dreams." Tooth brings her knees closer to her chest, hugging them and hiding her face. She never looked so small, frail, even. "You're the funniest guy I know. I love it when you make me laugh." Breath, Jack, just breathe. You can do it. He insisted on telling himself that when all he wanted to do was scream. "I love the shade of blue in your eyes." There's a deep pause, silence. That seemed so long ago that it made him feel ashamed and, by the way she kept her head down, Tooth felt the same.
"I love you." Jack felt he could die if it meant the pain would go away. "All of you."
(I love all of you too)
The small pieces of paper burn quickly when thrown at the fireplace. Jack closes his eyes when the fire engulfs them; a piece of him burning along with those small – heartfelt, loving, Tooth - messages. Turning to ashes. He tries hard to remember why they both agreed to do this when they knew it would hurt that much, the boy thinks –thinksthinksthinks so hard – and it finally comes back to him.
("It will be easier to move on once there's nothing left")
And so they continue to throw things at the fire. Letters, notes, gifts, trinkets… Everything goes to feed the fireplace and raise the heat in the room, the flames flickering strong and almighty. It consumes everything until there's nothing but dust floating around them. Stupid metaphors.
(I find your love for teeth adorable)
(I don't care if you want to go to college or not)
(Will you ever stop making me laugh when I'm not supposed to?)
(I like it. When you laugh, it sounds like a birdie)
(Meet me later?)
(Always)
And God, if he ever should die let this be the moment because it's so painful and pleasepleaseplease – I beg You - just let him die right now while there's some pieces of his heart sill beating. Let him die before the first tear rolls down the corner of his eye and she sees him as miserable as he is. IthurtsIthurtsIthurts and please just make it stop.
(Let's stay together forever)
That was it. The last piece of memory they had, it burned beautifully, the ashes coming up and shining like the fiery uncontrollable things they were. A part of Jack finally felt at ease, his heartbeat and breathing slowing down. It was over. It was over. What a terrible truth.
"Jack." She called out his name – it sounded shy, just like a new beginning - and he managed his finest smile when turning to face her. His best friend.
His smile faded when he saw she had her hand extended to him, expectation and something akin to sadness on her eyes.
"Tooth, no." Jack held the item she wanted closer to his body - a blue pendant with stars and snowflakes- an automatic reaction. "No."
"You need to." The girl kept her hand extended as if it would coarse him to give her what she wanted. "We need to."
"Why?" Jack still held the pendant close to his chest, his fingers already hurting. He got up from his place on the floor and took some steps back. "This is already too far!" That is the first time in weeks he is actually screaming, voicing his pain out.
"Because I know you!" There's a certain degree of frustration there and it cuts like a rusty knife. "You'll stay looking at it and remembering and hurting and I don't want that for you!" Tooth gets up and approaches him ready to take, to hurt if needed.
He takes another step back and she follows, her hands reaching for his chest. Jack holds her wrists in a failed attempt to make her stop, she keeps on fighting him and he holds her tighter, tighter… Until she finally pushes him against the wall - his hands releasing her for a second - and he has nowhere to run to. She yanks the pendant from him and throws it on the fire, the flames flickering for a last time.
(Heartbreak should be a verb and not a damn fucking noun.)
That's it. There's nothing left anymore.
Jack looks at her wrists and sees the bruises starting to show and the guilty-trip starts to play inside his head. She looks as broken – sad, angry, hurt - as him and maybe that's why he forgives her so easily. She has always forgiven him for anything too, anyways. His hands start to tingle, already missing her warmth. They shouldn't have touched. That shouldn't have happened, but then again, lots of things shouldn't have happened.
He lowers his head and steals her lips before any of them could say anything about the matter, entwining their fingers and holding her close. It's quite surprising, the fact that their hands still matched perfectly even when there was nothing left anymore. Maybe some things will never really change. Tooth doesn't resists and he doesn't stop. They had that right, they deserved it – a small piece of happiness, frivolous thing – after all that pain and digging at each other's wounds.
(It just makes him wonder, where exactly had it gone wrong?)
And that was all about how they were angry, about how they were hurting. Oh God where did it go wrong? What did we miss? I love you so much and I'm so sorry please believe me. I love you I love you and nothing I say sounds coherent anymore because I miss you oh God please make it stop hurting. It was about anything, but the fact that - some times - bad things happen to people who don't deserve it and it's not really anybody's fault.
Jack spends the rest of the night kissing her tears away.
Even if the night was so dark, morning came.
There was nothing but ashes on the fireplace, they looked at the living room one last time before leaving, dust still covering everything on the old house and the wooden floor creaking beneath their feet.
"Stay good, Jack." She smiles weakly and he hopes it will heal soon.
"You too, Tooth." His smile is not much better than hers, but it's a start, for both of them.
And just like they had agreed to do, they left on opposite directions of the road, but – at some time – both of them looked back for a little while.
[fast forward.]
He looks at the old house quite surprised. He thought it would be demolished years ago.
(It seems that their perfect plan had a fault after all)
It's strange to be back to Burgess after so many years, everything seemed the same and – oddly, at the same time – not. Jack walked down the street in direction to the main avenue of the town, adjusting his scarf just a little bit. Wintertime around here has always been so pleasant, with the lights and decorations the townsfolk took pride on since forever.
It made him remember good times.
"Miss Bakshi! Billy is pulling at my hair again!" A little girl screamed, her voice loud and well, much like a four year old. Jack was passing by one of the playgrounds around the city when that voice made him stop.
"Bakshi…?" There was just one family with that surname in Burgess and he would never forget it. Her.
"Billy! How many times do I have to tell you that it's not nice to do that?" Their teacher – or at least he assumed – said, voice patient and calm. "Now, apologize to Annie."
"Sorry, Annie…" The little boy said facing the ground "Sorry, Miss Bakshi…"
"It's okay dear, just don't do it again..."
"What happened to the dentist?" He said, an amused smirk showing. Jack approached her, his best friend ever. How much time has it been since he last saw her?
(It's strange, how there are people in this world that you will always remain friends with, no matter how much time passes.)
"I beg your pardon…?" The woman turned, her lilac eyes widening at the sight of him. "Jack! Oh my god! How have you been?" Her smile is beautiful – whole – and he is so grateful for that.
"Good." He laughs a little. "And you? I thought I would have an appointment for free whenever I got back into town."
"Still funny I see." Tooth giggles and he scratches the back of his head quite sheepishly. "Well… I guess I just changed my mind?" She giggled again, a strange happiness on her eyes. "And you? What are you doing now?"
"Well, the company I work for will be opening an office here. So I'm moving back, actually." And suddenly he remembers that he is already late to meet his realtor, his boss would kill him for sure, but inside his mind Jack had already decided he could spare some more minutes here.
"Company?" Now it was her turn to be surprised. "What happened to pro snowboarder?"
"Hey, I still snowboard for fun, okay?" He raises his hands defensibly and with a mocking expression on his face. "Don't think I became boring just because I'm a little older!" Oh, how he missed this. They were over a long time ago, but Tooth has always been his friend. His best friend. And she would always have a special place inside his heart.
"You? Boring?" She pauses, as if thinking just to make him a bit disappointed. "Never." She smiles at him and it's the most beautiful thing he has seen for a long time.
It warms his heart.
"So…" He looks behind her and sees all the children that are looking at them and whispering among themselves. It was sort of embarrassing. "I see you're busy here, but do you want to meet for some coffee later?"
"Of course! We need to catch up." Tooth pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. It was cut short now. Now that he looked at her face more closely, she was different, older, small laughter lines here and there. He wondered how many stories she had to tell him now and it excited him to no end. "Same old place?"
"Sure." Jack looks at his watch and thinks for a minute. "Hmm… At three is okay for you?"
"Okay, I'll be there."
"Okay."
(Okay.)
(Luckily, this ends with a beginning)
[rewind. play.]
You can come with the bricks now. I know I deserve it.
So, I'll leave their coffee open for you guys to decide if it is a "you will always be my best friend" sort of thing or a "maybe we could start again" thing. Don't get me wrong, I love rainbow snowcone, but I can't help but imagine what if scenarios and this is one of them. Originally, Tooth was supposed to be married to another guy and Jack would end up meeting her and her kid but oh well. Someone would kill me.
Nothing that I write makes sense to me in the end anymore. Help. Also, I exaggerated on the bracket usage. Sorry about that.
Please tell me what you think! Criticism is always welcome :)
shizu.