Gone
Ronnie flew into the office of R&R, her blonde hair fanning out behind her like a cascading waterfall. Walking up to Jack's desk, she stood square in front of it. "Joint custody?!" She exclaimed, the anger rolling off of her in tidal waves.
Jack looked up from the paperwork he was in the middle of doing, somewhat surprised to see her there; although a part of him had expected it. "Yeah, well; if that's what it takes to see my daughter," he replied; looking back down to the figures in front of him.
"And you think you can just bully Roxy into it?" Ronnie placed her hands on her hips, looking her ex lover straight in the eye. Every second longer she looked at him, it made her angrier. The nonchalance of his words; like this was nothing, like what he had done was nothing. How could he act like that?
"I tried being reasonable." And that was the truth, he had been. He'd been patient, he'd waited, but he needed to see his daughter. He couldn't see Penny; she was hundreds of miles away – her mother had made sure of that. So he needed Amy. Seeing her on his doorstep every day, so close to him, but he couldn't be her dad. He wasn't allowed to be. How was that fair to either of them?
"Oh, and that's you all over, isn't it – Mr Compromise," Ronnie said sarcastically, her words bitten with derision.
"I'm not the problem here."
"What? And I am?!" She asked, incredulous at his statement. "Oh no, maybe you're right. Maybe if I wasn't here, Roxy would want you around. She's a single mother, lonely, any port in a storm. That's exactly what she was."
"I'm Amy's dad." Why can't she just accept that? Amy is my daughter, I'm her dad.
"NO!" Ronnie shouted. She was my Amy, my daughter. You weren't her dad, Joel was. She was mine! "No, you're not. You're just a, a sperm donor – back of the bike shed and it could've been anyone!"
Her words cut his skin like a thousand icicles searing through it, piercing through each and every layer of his heart before plunging into it. She wasn't wrong – that's all he had been. If it wasn't him, it would've been Sean. He'd thought it often enough, but to hear Ronnie say it – it hurt.
"Now, now it's just me, Roxy and Amy and there's no room for anybody else." Ronne stated, lifting up her arm and pointing her index finger at him; physically trying to keep Jack away from her family.
"Room?" Jack asked. "Grow up, Ronnie. . . She's my daughter." Jack paused, seeing the devastated look on her face, instantly regretting his words. I shouldn't've said that. I should have been more subtle, not just bulldozed in like that. I didn't mean to hurt her. "Look, I know it must be hard for yer . . . it's only natural you'd cling onto Roxy and Amy after what-"
"DON'T!" Ronnie shouted, cutting him off. "Don't you dare! Don't you ever!" She screamed, all of the anger pouring out her in those words.
"Ronnie," Jack said, his voice firm, but quiet compared to hers. He stood up from his chair, walking around the desk so that he was almost next to her.
"No!" She could feel him getting closer to her, but she refused to look at him.
"Ronnie, you're clinging onto Amy because your daughter-"
"Shut up, Jack!"
"Danielle's dead, Ronnie. And I know you're hurting-"
"Stop it!" She shrieked, her voice coming out high pitched and strangled.
"Ronnie, I know-"
"NO! You don't!" She whipped around, finally facing him once more. "You don't. Your dad didn't rip your newborn daughter from your arms, he didn't lie to you and say that she was dead, he didn't keep her from you, he didn't make you throw her out when she needed you the most. He didn't do those things and your daughter isn't dead. You don't know Jack, so don't pretend you do."
He looked at the turmoil that was painted across her face, the gaping hole in her heart that had been left by her daughter. Jack's hand slowly crept up to Ronnie's arm, but she flinched and pulled it away; the physical contact too much for her to take at this point in time. "Ronnie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you've gone through all this, but your Amy's gone, darling. Danielle's gone."
"Screw you, Jack!" Ronnie breathed through gritted teeth. She shook her head, refusing to listen to his words. "We don't need you. Amy doesn't, Roxy doesn't and I don't. We don't need you. We don't need you. We don't need you. I don't need you, I don't need you, Jack. I don't need you!" Over and over the words tumbled from her mouth, as though repeating them would hammer it into her heart. They say if you tell yourself something enough times you start to believe it, so why couldn't that be true for this?
"Ronnie," Jack whispered, feeling his own emotions get the better of him as he saw a row of tears line her eyes. Why is she putting herself through this? Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her towards him; half expecting her to reject his comfort, but she didn't. She didn't accept it either though. But at least she didn't back away. That has to at least mean something, right? "Ronnie, she's not your Amy. She's not your little girl, she's not yours."
Jack felt Ronnie's body stiffen against his and she pulled away from him. The look of betrayal on her face was worse than it had been on the evening of Christmas Day. He knew he shouldn't have said that, but somebody had to. Somebody had to tell her. "You're clinging onto her as though she's a replacement for Danielle, but she's gone, Ronnie. She's dead. Amy's not Danielle. Danielle's dead."
"Stop saying that."
"What?"
"Stop saying that she's dead."
"She is, though."
"Don't you think I know that?!" Ronnie exploded, the raw pain engulfing her in it's fiery embrace. "Don't you think I see it every time I close my eyes? And every time I open them and she's not there – it's just another reminder that she's-? Don't you think I know, Jack?" She backed away from him, trying to get out of the office as quickly as possible.
"Ronnie, where are you going? Ronnie!" Jack shouted after her as she rushed through her club. He knew she was in no fit state to go anywhere and she'd been crying, what if she didn't look where she was going and - . . . The clammy hands of terror gripped him by the throat, constricting his breathing; but Jack refused to be consumed by it.
He sprinted after her, catching up with her at the top of the club stairs. Placing a strong arm around her waist, he pulled her back down into the club, even as she struggled to get free, beating at his arm with her tiny fists. "Get off me!"
But the terror he had felt was stronger than any of Ronnie's blows, so he just held onto her tightly until they were back in the bar. Except he didn't let her go even then, he just kept holding onto her.
"Get off me! Let me go!" Ronnie protested, trying to drag his arms away from her, but her cries became quieter and her punches became weaker. "I don't need you, I don't need you!"
"I know you don't."
"I need HER! I need my baby girl, I need her." Jack felt Ronnie's body crumple beneath her and they both fell to the club floor; his arms trying to form a protective shield around her. "I promised her, Jack. When she was born, I promised her that no matter what happened, I would find her; I'd find her and I'd look after her and everything would be okay. I promised her I'd always love her and nobody would be able to fill her place in my heart. I promised her I'd find her. But I didn't, did I? I promised her I'd look after her, but I couldn't even do that! I promised her."
Jack held her tighter, wishing that he could take this all away for her. But he couldn't, nobody could.
"Moments – that's all we got. Moments. It's not enough, it's not enough. I want her back, now! I want her back." She leant backwards, loosening Jack's hold on her and looking around herself, as though a thought had just occurred to her. "Y'hear me, Danielle? I want you back here now! NOW! Otherwise, otherwise you're grounded until, until . . .Come here now or you're, or you're . . ." Her breaths came in gasps, a tidal wave of grief rising up within her, ripping at her insides until only a hurricane of destruction was left behind.
"Ron," Jack whispered, delicately stroking her cheek. He shook his head as his own eyes filled with tears at the sight of hers. "Don't do this."
"Why won't she come to me, Jack?"
"She can't, Ronnie."
But Ronnie shook her head. She knew he was right, she just didn't want to believe it. What mother would? "No."
"She's gone. She's gone, Ronnie."
"No. No. No, no, no, no. No." She muttered the same word under her breath, shaking her head.
Jack grasped the bottom of her chin in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Ronnie, look at me. Danielle's gone, she didn't want to leave, she loved you; but sometimes, love isn't enough. Your daughter is dead. She's dead, Ronnie. And nobody can replace her. And you can't make yourself forget the grief by pretending that she's Amy. She isn't. Danielle's dead. She loved you, Ronnie – she found you and even after everything that happened between you two; she wanted you. She wanted you. And you loved and wanted her."
He heard a small whimper rise in her chest as she tried to hold back the ocean of pain she'd desperately tried to run from. Jack knew that this would hurt her and the knowledge of her pain made him want to keep his mouth shut, but he also knew he couldn't. Because it would hurt her so much more in the long run.
"So you need to feel this, you need to feel this pain and then you'll heal because Danielle wouldn't want you to break; someone who loves you the way she did, she'd want you to be happy. But you need to feel this first, Ron – otherwise you won't heal and she wouldn't want you to be broken. And she definitely wouldn't want to be the one that did that to you."
Ronnie felt the waves of emotion crash over her, wave after wave of grief drenched her soul until she wept with wild abandonment in Jack's arms. Her little girl could never be the one to break her; she was the one that had fixed her. Ronnie had seen her little girl, she'd seen the beautiful woman she'd become. She'd seen that.
Jack just held her, knowing that there was no point in saying anything now – there was nothing in this world that could make this better. But he'd be there for her, to pick up the pieces and slowly, slowly put her back together again when she needed him to. He wasn't going anywhere – how could he when she owned every part of him?
THE END