Author's Note: This show consistently delivers the most phenomenal season finales, and the season five finale was no exception. There was so much emotion packed into it. The look on Jess' face as she watched Nick and Reagan dance together was beautifully heart-wrenching. I wanted to give her a hug in that scene. And I loved when Schmidt needed a glass to break during the wedding ceremony and Nick held up the douchebag jar. That moment hit me straight in the feels and left me all misty-eyed.
It looks like we're going to have to endure Nick and Reagan for a while, but the way I see it, now that Jess has finally realized she's still in love with Nick, it only solidifies the fact that they're going to end up together, even if it's not until the series finale (which I have a feeling will incorporate "I've Had the Time of My Life" as a callback to the pilot, but I digress, haha). That being said, the New Girl writers know how to surprise the fans in amazing ways, so I look forward to whatever they come up with next for these characters.
In the meantime, I've channeled my Ness feels into this fic, which picks up where Landing Gear leaves off. Enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: New Girl © Elizabeth Meriwether
The days that followed Schmidt and Cece's wedding brought forth a startling sense of loneliness that gripped Jess' heart in a way she'd never experienced before. She tried her best to ignore the feeling by keeping herself busy during the day, but when she crawled into bed at night, the loneliness would seize her heart once more and refuse to let go. All she had were her own restless thoughts to keep her company for the time being, since the blissful newlyweds were off on their honeymoon, as was an uninvited Winston, who'd tagged along for what he'd deemed a brilliantly elaborate honeymoon prank that, in reality, was nothing more than some good old fashioned stalking.
Last but not least, of course, there was Nick, who'd up and left for the summer to be with Reagan. His new girlfriend.
Jess supposed it was good, in a way, that he'd be gone for the next three months, because if she were being completely honest with herself—and, frankly, after coming to terms with her feelings for Nick at long last, there was no point in denying it—seeing him with Reagan would be too painful. The two of them seemed really happy together, crazy about each other, and while Jess wanted nothing more than for Nick to be happy, it didn't mean it didn't hurt any less.
And it definitely hurt, much more than she could bring herself to bear. It was the kind of hurt that coiled around her chest like a merciless boa constrictor, tight and stinging and cutting off her flow of oxygen—which was dark, Jess realized, but it was how she felt. She couldn't help it. She was in love with Nick. Her best friend. Her ex. Her "roomfriend." Her Nick. It was only now, late at night, as she tried to fall asleep despite her thoughts and feelings keeping her awake, that she allowed herself to indulge in the memories and think about him, about their relationship, about the passion they shared, about the sad and happy and weird and wonderful memories.
He'd hit the nail on the head when he'd talked about their relationship. They'd fallen in love with each other, crazy, blinding, foolish, once in a lifetime love, a love that burned brightly and intensely, a love that probably would have lasted forever if it hadn't been for her stubbornness and his insecurities getting in the way, but a love that was honest and real and extraordinary nonetheless. Quite simply, it had been the greatest love of her life. She didn't regret one moment of it and wouldn't trade it for the world. She loved Nick. She'd always loved Nick. He was the one. It had taken Sam's blunt words to get her to realize it once and for all, but it was true all the same.
Vaguely she wondered how long Cece had known, how she must've been quietly and patiently waiting this whole time for Jess to finally catch on and admit her feelings. Truth be told, while Jess liked to think of herself as a love doctor, when it came to the workings of her own heart, she was anything but an expert. She either loved too hard, or hardly enough, and she could never find the right balance at the right time. With Nick, she loved him with her whole heart, not just when they were together, but long before as well. Those feelings had never truly gone away, lying dormant over the past two years since their breakup, though it seemed she'd come to this revelation a little too late. She and Nick had already had their time together, but it was over now. Nick was in a new relationship, and as far as he and Jess were concerned, maybe they were destined to be friends and nothing more. If that was what was meant to be, she could learn to accept it. Again, it would hurt, but she would do it, for his sake.
Above everything else, the hardest thing to come to terms with was the knowledge that living here in the loft with Nick—and with Schmidt and Winston and now Cece, like they were one weird, loving, dysfunctional family—wouldn't last forever. It made her think about what Diane had said, about the fear of losing Sam as a friend. That was what terrified Jess the most when it came to Nick. She couldn't lose him. She loved him too much to lose him. Even if they only stayed friends for the rest of their lives, it was better than losing him altogether. She needed him. He had to know that. He had to know by now how much he meant to her. He had to know by now that she'd always want him to be a part of her life, no matter what happened. He had to know.
…Right?
That question, a single word, yet with so much weight behind it, lingered in the back of Jess' mind as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
It was a brand new day, and a new day meant an open door of endless possibilities for Jessica Day. That was her current, albeit unoriginal motto, and she was sticking to it.
Feeling particularly antsy now that she was on summer vacation, she wound up in the kitchen early in the morning, deciding to clean out the refrigerator, just to have something to do. She'd only gotten halfway into the first drawer when she pulled out a heap of dark, leafy vegetables and paused. An idea crossed her mind, and she reached for the blender sitting on the counter.
Her spur-of-the-moment cleaning and cooking frenzy managed to occupy her throughout most of the morning, leaving her with no time to think about Nick even if she wanted to. By the time she knew it, a few hours had gone by, and now, opening up the freezer, she took out her creation, beaming with pride. She was about to wiggle one of the ice pops from the ice tray to give it a taste, when the sound of the door unlocking nearly made her heart jump out of her chest.
"Guess who's home!"
"Winston!" Jess said, springing with excitement as she ran up to him, tray in hand, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I'm so happy to see you."
"Winnie's happy to see you, too, boo," he said, hugging her back. "I wish you could've seen the look on Schmidt's face when I burst out of the sand. I got him good. I mean, he and Cece did not see it coming at all. One for the books for ol' Prank Sinatra. It's a shame I couldn't stay a little longer and get into more honeymoon shenanigans, but the newlyweds need their alone time. And by alone time, I mean sex time. Ooh, what are these? May I?" He was already freeing one of the green and orange frozen treats from the tray before she could answer. "Oh, by the way, I spoke to Nick yesterday."
Jess' hand unconsciously tightened around the tray.
"I just called him to check in, see how he's liking New Orleans," Winston said, oblivious to Jess' abrupt change in demeanor. "Turns out he loves it. Says he and Reagan are having a great time and that he already got a dozen of those Mardi Gras necklace beads. He's so crazy. But I'll be damned if I don't miss that man already."
He took a bite of the homemade popsicle and immediately pulled a face, scrunching his nose and puckering his lips. With a thick swallow, he said, "Wow, that was awful. Jess, what is in these popsicles?"
"Um," Jess said, her voice unnaturally meek as her mind drifted to the thought of Nick and Reagan living it up in New Orleans. She shook her head, forcing herself to snap out of it. "I thought I'd experiment and try making something healthy, so I mixed a bunch of ingredients. Orange juice, coconut oil, kale. Mostly kale. They're kale popsicles. Kalesicles."
"Well, I say this as your friend who genuinely respects you, this is the worst thing I've ever tasted," Winston said. "You need to toss 'em in the garbage disposal and never look back. Trust me."
He took the tray from Jess, who didn't have it in her to protest. Her hand remained suspended, fingers curling listlessly against her palm. All she could think about was Nick and how much fun he was likely having with Reagan, laughing with her, kissing her, touching her, making love to her.
"Jess?" Winston said, jolting her out of her thoughts. "What's wrong? You're upset about these nasty popsicle things? Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I was just saying—"
"No, it's not that, it's just… I really miss…" She could feel herself breaking. His name was on the tip of her tongue, and yet, like a coward, she couldn't say it out loud, because then she'd break for sure. Swallowing the fresh lump in her throat, she took the easy way out and said, "I…really miss Cece."
"Oh," Winston said. "Well, hey, she and Schmidt will be home before you know it. And so will Nick."
Jess said nothing more, knowing the weak sound of her voice would betray her if she were to speak again, so instead, she gave a feeble nod. Winston kept his gaze on her a moment longer, as though he were trying to gauge in her countenance what she wasn't saying out loud. Finally, though, he turned away, dumping her pathetic excuse for ice pops into the sink and turning on the screeching garbage disposal.
Unfortunately, the sound wasn't loud enough to drown out her infinite thoughts.
"Have I told you my new lover, Franc, is an astounding sculptor?" Jess' boss and new friend, Genevieve, asked as the two made their way to an open tennis court, rackets in hand.
In all honesty, Jess had been a little taken aback when Genevieve invited her to play a game of tennis, as she didn't take Genevieve for someone who was particularly into sports. Granted, Jess wasn't much of an athlete either, but that didn't stop her from accepting the invitation, figuring it would be a fun way to bond with Genevieve and get in some physical activity.
"Ooh, he's a sculptor, huh?" Jess said, dressed in a red t-shirt and white tennis skirt, her hair up in a high ponytail. "I bet he's got all sorts of fun hand-crafted plates and vases and pencil holders around his house."
"Not quite. He specializes in nude sculptures," Genevieve said. "And, I must say, his depiction of the female body is the most accurate I've ever seen, an area of expertise he puts to exceptional use in the bedroom."
Jess' polite smile faltered. "Oh?"
"It's like my body is the clay and his hands tenderly knead and massage and mold it until he winds up with his ultimate masterpiece," Genevieve said, an unabashed grin on her lips. "My orgasms."
"Wow, okay," Jess said as heat rushed to her face. She was no prude, but really, this was taking their newfound friendship to an entirely different level she wasn't sure she wanted to explore. "For the record, you didn't need to be so on the nose there. The innuendo was enough."
"Understood," Genevieve said. She popped open the can of tennis balls and took one out, setting the can down next to the chained fence surrounding the courts. "So, tell me, Jess, how has your love life been since you and Sam departed on separate life voyages? I imagine the wounds must still be fairly fresh."
"Oh, um, yeah. I guess," Jess said, her hesitance rising now that the spotlight had shifted to her. She made a point to tread lightly. "To be honest, it was never going to work out between Sam and me. He realized he was in love with his best friend, and I, well…"
"You realized you have feelings for someone else as well?" Genevieve said. "That cranky man who was under the weather and swaddled in a blanket like an infant?"
The blonde bounced the neon ball once and effortlessly caught it in her hand, and all Jess could do was stare in awe. Had it really been that obvious to everyone but her?
"Yes," she heard herself say, realizing this was the first time she was acknowledging her feelings out loud. "But, he's got a girlfriend now, so…"
"Well, I wouldn't worry too deeply about that if I were in your shoes," Genevieve said before Jess could elaborate. "The way that man spoke of your prior relationship during our Feelings Farm, with such unapologetic devotion, made it quite clear your souls are destined to be mated for life."
"Soul mates?" Jess said absently.
As she let the idea sink in, she felt a sudden sense of hope building within her, bright and airy and warm. Refusing to push it away, she fully embraced the feeling and let it lift her spirits. She didn't care if it was naïve. With a much-needed burst of confidence, she gripped her tennis racket in both hands as Genevieve served the ball, and she hit it with all her might.
Jess was beyond ecstatic when Schmidt and Cece returned from their honeymoon. She'd been lounging in the living room while Winston was on patrol, and seeing them walk through the door made her face light up. Hugs were exchanged and souvenirs were given, though the homecoming quickly turned sour when Schmidt addressed the elephant in the room.
"Once a certain best friend of mine comes home from his three-month eating and boozing sex vacation with his new stone-cold, no-nonsense girlfriend, he'd better have a phenomenal gift to present us with as a token of apology for straight up abandoning us for the summer."
Jess hadn't expected the swift ache in her chest, especially since she'd just been starting to feel better about the whole Nick situation, but now, hearing Schmidt talk about how betrayed he felt with Nick gone, the brightness in her eyes dulled ever so slightly.
"He didn't abandon us, Schmidt," she said, having an inexplicable need to defend him despite her own mood growing sullen. "He's just…having a good time. He misses us as much as we miss him, I'm sure."
"Well, if he misses us so much, why hasn't he returned any of my calls?" Schmidt asked. "All I got was a text saying, 'Quit calling me so much. I know you're only doing it to irritate me, and I'm telling you this one last time, I don't want to hear about all the weird sex stuff you did with Cece on your honeymoon.' Honestly, how dare he? Would it kill him to call me back? Will he spontaneously combust if he were to take a break from sexually displeasing Reagan for five freaking minutes to cater to my feelings and communicate with me to let me know he still cares? Will he? I think not."
His impassioned speech managed to strike a nerve in Jess, who could only stand there, too stunned to say anything in response. Thankfully, Cece took it upon herself to soothe her husband by running a hand up and down his back.
"Honey, we all know you're only acting out because you miss your best friend," she said, and she looked Jess in the eye. "It's okay to feel hurt."
Tears sprang to Jess' eyes without any warning. She immediately stalked off to her room, ignoring Cece when she called after her.
"Jess?"
She collapsed on her bed, and Cece followed, sitting down next to her. Jess looked up at her best friend, her vision blurry with those unrelenting tears. Everything she'd been trying to avoid since Nick left came crashing down on her in that moment—the pain from missing him, the heartache from loving him and the frustration of not being able to do anything about it. She couldn't keep it in anymore.
Cece seemed to read all of these emotions on her face, and the next thing she knew she was being pulled into a consoling hug. She buried her face in the crook of Cece's neck and, for the first time since Nick left, she allowed herself to cry. Her body shook with muffled sobs as Cece lovingly stroked her hair.
"Mama Bear's here for you."
Jess stayed there in Cece's arms, not even bothering to move when she heard Schmidt walk in. She didn't see the way Cece looked at Schmidt, her eyes filled with crestfallen sympathy, and how it was all he needed for him to put the pieces together. He joined the two of them on the bed and wrapped his arms around Jess' back.
"Nicholas Miller is the idiot to top all idiots," he said with all the confidence in the world, "and one day, Jessica Day, I promise you, he'll realize you're the annoying, lovable goofball he's meant to be with for the rest of his life."
In spite of everything, Jess let out a chuckle, because in a bizarre, twisted way, that was one of the sweetest things Schmidt had ever said to her. His words were harsh, but the underlying sentiment was there, and it was exactly what she needed to hear right now. Drawing back from the embrace, she gave them a warm smile.
"Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt," she said, welcoming the wave of happiness that washed over her, if only temporarily.
As the weeks carried on, Jess had since resolved she was through crying over Nick, and she was through letting herself get caught up in the highs and lows of false hope. She was simply going to enjoy the rest of the summer by taking it one day at a time.
It was late one night, and her roommates had all gone off to bed, while Jess was in the kitchen, trying to open a jar of salsa. Her arm shook as she struggled to twist open the lid. All she could think was, Nick would have this jar open in a second, when her cell phone rang on the counter. She picked it up, furrowing her brow to see an unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Jess, it's Reagan."
"Reagan," Jess said in surprise, and suddenly her ears were tingling and her heart was racing. "Hi. How's it—I mean, is, um, is everything—why are you—"
"Nick's in the hospital."
The jar slipped out of Jess' hand, shattering all over the ground. Her face turned ghostly white as she sank to her knees and only halfheartedly listened to Reagan explain what had happened—something about Nick drinking too much and unexpectedly collapsing due to heat stroke. She said he was doing okay, but he'd be staying in the hospital overnight for precautionary measures. It was all background noise to Jess, whose heart was hammering so hard she thought she herself was about to pass out.
Her fingers felt numb, and it wasn't until she ended the call and lifted her hand from the floor that she felt a sharp stinging sensation, and she saw blood trickling down her palm. She stood on trembling legs and mechanically walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet to rinse out the wound. Even with the sound of the running water, all she could hear was the roughness of her own shortened breathing, and she knew there was only one place she needed to be.
She'd ended up traveling alone to New Orleans. It hadn't been the ideal option, but since none of her roommates were able to take off from work on such short notice, it was the only option. They'd all chipped in for her plane ticket despite her incessant protests, and she assured them she'd keep them posted every step of the way. Running on no sleep in the past twenty-four hours, she used what little energy she had left to briskly walk through the hospital corridors.
It wasn't until she entered Nick's room that she came to a stop, her breath escaping her in a deflating exhale. He was sound asleep but noticeably pale, and she found herself simultaneously relieved and heartbroken by the sight of him. The conflicting emotions wrestled into a knot that settled deeply in her stomach as she walked up to him and sat down on the edge of the hospital bed.
She watched him for a bit, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest. Before she could stop herself, she brought a hand to his cheek, his stubble scratching her fingertips. If only he knew how worried sick they'd all been about him. It was hard enough being away from him for so long, but to reunite with him like this, in these dire conditions, it sent her heart into an absolute whirlwind. Her hand slipped from his cheek, only to enclose over his hand.
"You're still in love with him."
With a gasp, Jess turned her head to find Reagan leaning against the doorframe, her arms delicately draped over her chest, a paper cup of coffee in one hand and her red lips pursed.
"What?" she said. "No, I just—I was worried about him—"
"Because you're in love with him," Reagan said, as matter-of-fact as ever. She sauntered into the room, heels clicking. "It doesn't matter if you won't admit it to me. I already know I'm right. I've literally never been wrong about anything in my entire life. I knew Y2K was going to be completely blown out of proportion thanks to mass paranoia, I knew Pluto never deserved to be classified as a planet in the first place, and I know more than anything that you are hopelessly in love with Nick."
Jess had to drop her gaze, as Reagan's eyes were cutting through her, making her uncomfortable.
"Yeah," she said. "But…you…"
"I care about him, don't get me wrong," Reagan said. "He's a really sweet guy, but he also tries way too hard, and he freaks out over the dumbest things, and I honestly don't get his sense of humor at all. It doesn't really matter what I think of him, though, because I can tell you for a fact he's not over you, either."
Jess' heart twitched, and she willed herself to look back up at Reagan as she asked, "Really?"
"He went on and on about how you called him 'incredible' and how it meant a lot to him. He said it gave him the confidence he needed to go for it with me," Reagan said. "And, yeah, he and I have been having a nice time together, but once the novelty wears off and he goes home to you, he's going to realize how much he missed you, and that all the things I'm lacking are all the qualities you possess. You two are obviously meant for each other."
Reagan took a sip from her steaming cup, while Jess quietly sat there, feeling like her head was spinning.
"I…have no idea what to say right now."
"That's because I've already said everything there is to say," Reagan said, and she nodded her head towards Nick. "All that's left is for this dummy to realize it himself. And when he does, I won't stand in your way of being with him."
"Wow, Reagan, you're pretty darn amazing, you know that?" Jess asked.
"Of course I know that," Reagan said. "But, thanks."
The two of them shared a genuine grin, and it was at that moment that Nick began to stir, releasing a soft groan as his head lulled to one side.
"I'll let you two have your heartfelt reunion," Reagan said.
She was out the door before Jess could so much as thank her, though she didn't have time to dwell on it, as she felt Nick's hand flex beneath her own. She looked down to see him opening his eyes, the haze of confusion gradually dissipating the longer he stared at her.
"Jess," he said, a rasp to his voice, laced with trepidation, as though he were afraid he was imagining her. "How did you…"
"Reagan called me last night," Jess said. "I got on a plane this morning and came straight from the airport. You gave us all a real scare, Miller. Since when can't you handle your liquor?"
A wry smile lifted the corner of Nick's mouth, and Jess could even see a gleam catch in his eyes.
"I'm really glad you're okay," she said. "At some point you're going to have to give Schmidt a call and let him know you're not dead, because I swear that guy is about to have an aneurysm. He misses you like crazy."
"Yeah, I love him and all, but he is way too emotionally attached," Nick said. "He and Cece may be legally married, but he's basically my surrogate husband."
The smile that spread across Jess' face in that moment was wide and warm, re-igniting the spark in her eyes she'd lost somewhere along the way while he'd been gone.
"As you can see I'm still pretty out of it right now," Nick said, "so if you can keep what I just said between you and me, I'd really appreciate it."
"You got it," Jess said, giving his hand a soft squeeze.
Nick's mouth ticked up briefly, until he noticed Jess' left hand, wrapped in a thin layer of white gauze.
"Hey," he said, devoid of any humor now. "What happened?"
Jess looked down at her injured hand, a wave of embarrassment rushing over her as she hastily explained, "Oh, um…I cut my hand trying to open a jar of salsa last night. Well, actually, first I dropped the jar when Reagan told me what happened to you, and then I cut my hand on the broken glass. Klutz alert, am I right?"
Her attempt to lighten the mood was only met with a solemn look from Nick, who eventually dropped his gaze.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"There's nothing to be sorry about," Jess said. "Accidents happen. You just need to take better care of yourself, okay?"
Nick nodded, gently cupping Jess' fingers in his hand. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and her lips parted with a soft intake of breath.
"I just…" he said, trailing off. He stroked the back of her hand for a while, until he finally looked up at her again. "I hate that I made you worry. I honestly feel like a jerk. You know, when Reagan was busy doing her pharmaceutical sales stuff, I'd be at the hotel bar, drinking by myself, wondering what all you guys were up to, especially you. I wanted to call you, but I kept chickening out because I was afraid you wouldn't want to hear from me after the way we left things. You seemed really upset, and it honestly killed me that I couldn't make you feel better, because all I ever want is for you to be happy. You mean the world to me, Jess. The whole damn world. I hope you know that."
A fresh mist of tears coated her eyes. She wanted to tell him that she felt the same way, but the words were stuck in her throat.
"Hey," Nick said softly. "What is it?"
Jess sniffled. "I really, really missed you."
"I missed you, too," Nick said. "And, listen, I don't know how long you were planning on staying in New Orleans, but when you go home, I was thinking, maybe I could come with you."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Nick said. "I'll have to talk to Reagan, tell her it's not working out, but I'm sure she'll understand. At least, I hope she will. I don't know if you've noticed, but she can be awfully condescending sometimes."
"She's not so bad," Jess said.
"Yeah, but she's not you."
Those words went straight to her heart, sending a large, radiant smile across her face. Without another word, she reclined next to him on the bed, resting her head against his chest as he drew his arms around her. They stayed like that for a long time, the sound of his heartbeat soothing her, and there was nowhere else she wanted to be. As long as she was with Nick, she was home.