A/N: I don't know about anyone else, but I have always wanted to know more about Jeannie, and the Lattimer family. Tell me what you think!
Jeannie dragged her paintbrush across the top of her canvas, a bright streak of orange in the sunset over the meadow, where a young boy and girl were running with an older man. The children didn't look like her or Pete, the girl had red hair and the boy blonde, but it still managed to make her eyes water as she came out of the trance she always slipped into in front of that easel.
Lately this was all she could paint or draw, children laughing with their father, playing in various scenes. Sometimes it was two children, sometimes just one, some older and some younger, but they all looked like they were having the time of their lives. These were all things Jeannie would never experience again. She wiped a tear from her eye as she looked at her newest picture, thinking again that she may need to put away her art supplies and just deal with her grief like everyone else.
Except Jeannie wasn't like everyone else. Her mother had put on a brave face, and stayed strong for the family, and Pete was just trying his hardest to make people laugh again. They were acting like everything was normal, but it wasn't. Her father was dead, never coming home, and Jeannie just didn't know how anything could be normal again. And she hated that no one would ever acknowledge that.
She remembers the day vividly. She was heading downstairs for a glass of water, when she saw her mother curled in a ball on the floor, the phone hanging off the hook. Her shoulders were heaving, and her face was wet. "What's wrong?" Jeannie had asked, running and kneeling next to her, watching her face carefully. Lip reading wasn't an exact science, ever, and it was always harder when someone was expressing extreme emotion. All Jeannie could gather from her mother's lips was the word 'no' repeated over and over and over. She didn't know what was wrong, and began to panic, fearing that her mother was hurt, or that something was terribly wrong with her, and couldn't understand the situation to be able to help. So she started yelling. "Pete! Pete! Help, come quick!" She screamed it over and over until she could feel the vibrations of him running throughout the house. She calmed a little, knowing that he could help, that he could understand Mom, and translate if needed.
She turned toward the staircase as she felt him hit the landing, and felt the vibrations in her feet get bigger as he got closer. "It's Mom." She explained before she saw him, hoping that he could hear her. As soon as he got within eyesight, he was shaking his head, tears slowly falling down his face as he got closer. "What's going on?" She asked him out loud, her hands still attached to her mother so she was unable to sign. He tapped the thumb of his outstretched hand to his forehead. Dad. And in that moment she knew exactly why her mother was experiencing this moment of weakness she had never seen before. She had lost her heart and soul, the father of her children, and the love of her life. And they had lost their father, the coolest person they knew, who played games with them and fought monsters, and told them stories at night, both spoken and in ASL so that neither of them would feel left out. And Jeannie fell down on the ground with them and sobbed.
Jeannie had read a lot about grief. One of the things she had read was about the numbness that people feel, especially when receiving news like that. Some people report a loss of senses, such as hearing. They may hear a buzzing, or nothing. She often wonders if her mother and brother experienced life as she knew it for one moment, deaf, consumed by the thoughts running through their heads. She wonders, if maybe for just one second, they all experienced grief the same way. She knew she would never ask them though, she would hate for them to relive that moment, because she hates to.
It's been a month, and the realization that her father is gone still hits her like a ton of bricks sometimes. She usually realizes it in times like this, when she is painting. She looked at it again, deciding what to do with it, wrestling with the idea of trying to sell it at the community center, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find her mother looking at her, her kind eyes smiling. Jane pointed at the picture. It's beautiful, Jeannie. She signed, her dominant hand wide open, palm towards her face, waving in a circular motion ending in a fist, and then Jeannie's name sign, a letter 'j' drawn with the pinky, trailing off like vapor from a genie's bottle.
Thanks. Jeannie signed back with a sad grin. I have a bunch like these though. I'll take a picture for my portfolio and try to sell the painting downtown sometime tomorrow.
Jane nodded, understanding. I think that's a good idea, sweetheart. Jane signed, and then ran her fingers through Jeannie's blonde hair. Now pack up, we are taking a trip.
Jeannie's eyebrows furrowed, and she tilted her head to the left. What do you mean?
Jane smiled. I mean, it's time to make some new memories, some good ones. So pack your bags, we're taking a road trip. She got up off the bed to leave, and Jeannie waved to get her attention.
Jane turned to face her daughter. What about school? I've missed enough already. Jeannie signed at her mother, finding it a bit funny that she was the one worried about this and not her mother, the schoolteacher.
Jane smiled. I've got it all covered, I talked to your teachers, you'll be fine. Pack enough clothes for a week. With that she left. Jeannie stood there in her room, a goofy smile on her face as she gathered her things.
A few hours later, they were on the road, her in the front seat, and Pete in the middle behind them. She had packed about five books with her to read along the way, as well as her Polaroid camera so she could remember scenes and paint them again later. They never strayed far from her, something she had learned on previous road trips, when she found herself bored, or when it was difficult to follow along with the conversations because she couldn't see everyone's faces. This time, she was laughing. Both Pete and her Mom were rocking out to whatever rock music was playing on the radio. Jeannie could feel the beat running through her chair, and even sort of hear the muffled melody although she definitely couldn't discern words, and each song sounded like the next, but it was fun! And it was funny to watch her family have a good time.
Pete tapped her shoulder. Jeannie, you have to hear this one like I do. He signed to her. He started passionately signing the song, mothing the words as he signed. He made a gun with his two fingers and thumb, and grabbed near his forehead like he was grabbing the brim of a hat. A cowboy, riding on a steel horse. The cowboy was wanted dead or alive. Jeannie could see the joy coming from her brother's face as he signed, and she could see that he really enjoyed the song. She laughed, happy to be fully experiencing the music, and happy to be included.
They drove through the night, and Jeannie woke up a number of times, finding a different level of darkness outside each time. She looked back once and found Pete stretched out on the seat. Her mother was still awake, still driving, and Jeannie couldn't help but wonder how well she had been sleeping over the last month, especially if driving through the night was seemingly so easy for her to do.
They finally pulled into a hotel in South Dakota. She could see the confusion in Pete's face. "This is where we're staying?" He asked aloud.
Jane spoke and signed for both of their benefit. "Yes. I've always wanted to see Mount Rushmore." She answered, opening the door and stepping out into the warm, humid air.
Jeannie looked back at Pete. South Dakota? He signed, confusion on his face. Jeannie just shrugged, and gathered her things, following her mother out of the car.
They spent the day relaxing, resting from the long car ride in the hotel room. The next day they spent hiking in the Badlands. Jeannie took a ton of pictures, helping her to remember the vibrant colors and the beauty in the rocks. Pete pretended to be a cowboy, because what else would he do. And their mother looked truly happy watching them, happier than she had in a month. Towards the end of the day, they made their way to Mount Rushmore. Jeannie found it fascinating, as an artist, that someone could take this gigantic canvas, like a mountainside, and make it into something recognizable. And it was huge. Definitely her favorite part of the trip so far. Pete came up to her, tapping her shoulder. Hey, Jeannie, when you're a famous artist someday, will you put my face on a mountain? He asked her, the famous Lattimer grin plastered on his face.
She grinned back at him and tousled his hair. "We'll see." She answered him, hugging him close to her. And whatever she was missing at school didn't cross her mind once.
The next day they all slept in. Jeannie was the last one awake, and awoke to see her Mom and brother having a conversation. "I don't want to go to a stupid museum. It's boring, and I can't play with anything." Pete argued, flopping back on his bed.
Jane shrugged. "Then don't. Stay here at the pool. This vacation isn't all about what you want to do, Pete, and Jeannie would love to go to a museum." She explained.
"Museum? Is that what you are talking about?" Jeannie asked, not fully awake.
Jane nodded. She started to speak and sign simultaneously for the benefit of her children. "Yes, a museum. But Pete doesn't want to go."
Jeannie didn't want Pete to go. He never made the visits enjoyable, always distracting her, or whining about how he wanted to be anywhere else. He doesn't have to go, especially if he won't have fun. Jeannie signed. I want him to have fun, it's his vacation too. I'm sure you can find something to do special with him that doesn't include me.
Jane looked back and forth between her two children, and the smallest hint of a smile was on her face. "Okay! Then get yourself ready, young lady, we have a long trip ahead of us." Jane said with a grin, and went into the bathroom to change.
Jeannie brought comic books with her in the car, but before she cracked one, she took some time to watch her mother sing along to music. It was still rock music, she could tell from the vibrations, but it wasn't loud enough for her to hear the muffled melody. She was definitely still enjoying herself, and Jeannie was glad to see her finally happy, which is what this trip was all about. Jeannie smiled, and opened her newest Iron Shadow.
It was on a long stretch of uninhabited road when Jane pulled over and tapped Jeannie on the shoulder. Okay, so we aren't going to a museum. We're going somewhere better.
Jeannie's brows furrowed, and her head tilted. Where? And why didn't we bring Pete?
Jane smiled, but it was a sad smile. I can only show one person. I'll explain when I get there. She put her hands on the wheel, and pulled out again, driving down a road, and past a cherry orchard. When Jane drove down a dirt road that seemingly went to nowhere, Jeannie really started to pay attention. She could see what appeared to be a rather large building in the side of the mountain, and figured that there must be some sort of mirage, because it would be huge by the time they reached it.
It was bigger than she could have imagined as they got closer. She felt like she had to lie down to see the top of it properly. Jane tapped her on the shoulder. This is what I really do, aside from being a teacher. Welcome to Warehouse 13. She smiled broadly and stepped out of the car, and Jeannie scurried after her. Jane typed in a code at the door, and it opened. Jeannie followed her through the white tunnel. Jane turned around, and shot her a smile. I know you aren't your brother, but I have to tell you not to touch these poles here. You wouldn't believe me if I told you why. She turned and continued walking, entering yet another code, and walking through the open door.
The room they entered could best be described as eclectic. The mismatch of the future and the past was beautiful and strange, and Jeannie didn't really know what to think of it all. There were three other people in the room, a woman in a pink skirt and jacket with a beehive who looked rather angry at having someone there that they didn't recognize, a skinny man with dark hair, and a shorter man with wild hair and eyebrows but kind eyes. "Hello everyone." Her mother spoke, looking around. She placed a hand on the small of Jeannie's back. "This is my daughter, Jeannie." She turned to look into Jeannie's eyes. "Jeannie, this is Irene, Agent MacPherson, and Agent Nielsen." Jeanie liked that when in public, Jane spoke to her. Jeannie had never viewed her deafness as a disability, but she hated the way people looked at her when she signed sometimes, like she needed to be pitied. She didn't need to be pitied, she was deaf, not dumb. So Jane treated her no differently in public than she treated Pete, and Jeannie liked that.
The woman, Irene stepped forward. "Jane, you already had your one. Why did you bring her here?"
Jane turned from Jeannie, and she had trouble reading her mother's lips, mostly because the angle she was standing at made it difficult to see most of her face. From the way her mother's hands were clenched and her rigid body structure, Jeannie could tell she was putting up a fight. It wasn't until Jane turned to look at her again that she caught any part of her mother's response. "I have to do this for my children." She held out a hand, and Jeannie grabbed it, following her mother through a set of doors, and onto a landing overlooking the largest warehouse she had ever seen. She didn't think she could see a wall. Welcome to Warehouse 13.
Jeannie looked around, speechless, at the sights surrounding her, taking it all in. Is that the Hindenburg? And do I see a ship out there? She asked.
Jane nodded. Yes, that is the Hindenburg and the Jolly Roger.
Jeannie's mouth dropped. The actual Jolly Roger? Oh, Pete is going to be so jealous!
Jane grabbed Jeannie's arm. You can't tell him. She signed, her expression serious. I get to tell one person. It used to be your Father, now, it's you. You get to know the biggest secret in the world, and it has to stay between us.
Jeannie furrowed her brow and sighed. "Why?" she asked aloud.
Jane sighed. Because it's dangerous. She looked around, like she didn't know what to say. We have the actual Arrow here that took down Achilles. We have a Trident that controls the weather. We have artifact nuclear devices here. Carlo Collodi's Bracelet here, which plants a seed of darkness in your soul. We have a mirror that literally contains the most dangerous criminal in the world. And in here, we keep it all tucked away, and out of the wrong hands. We don't use it, any of it, and no, our government doesn't either, they just allow us to store it all here. In the wrong hands, this could all be catastrophic. And that is why it is so dangerous, and yet, so magical.
Jeannie shook her head. No. Ordinary objects can't be magical.
As if she was expecting this, Jane slipped on purple gloves. I want you to imagine a purple flower. Get the image in your head. She picked up a paintbrush. Now, wave this in the air in front of you.
Jeannie did as she was told, and a very cartoony purple flower appeared in front of her, with a face and everything. As Jeannie watched the scene unfold in front of her, she wondered briefly if she was hallucinating. Walt Disney's paintbrush. Her mother explained, as if that made it any less insane. She took the paintbrush and dropped it into a silver bag, and sparks jumped out of it as she quickly zipped it closed. When Jeannie opened her eyes again, the flower was gone.
Jeannie shook her head. Why me? She asked finally.
Jane looked at her daughter fondly. This is dangerous work, Jeannie. We have been under attack before, and it will happen again. God forbid anything happen to me, I need someone who knows the truth who can take care of Pete, and get out of a dangerous situation if need be. If anything happens to me, I need you to look out for him.
Jeannie didn't answer for a while. She looked at the world of wonder in front of her, and had a newfound respect for her mother, doing whatever she could to save the world. But at the same time, she was scared. It was a lot to take in, and she was only sixteen, faced with the weight of the world, and the responsibility of taking over her brother. It's a lot to ask, Mom. And sort of unfair.
Jane nodded. I know it is. And I'm sorry. But you are the only one I trust, and the best for the job. And I have complete faith in you that you can handle it. And faith in myself to know I can protect you both, and myself, so you never need to worry. She wrapped Jeannie in a hug. When they pulled apart, she signed some more. You're my brave girl, Jeannie.
Jeannie smiled sheepishly at the comment, and leaned into her mother again, who slowly led her through the office and out the door again.
The ride back seemed quicker, maybe because they didn't stop, or that particular issue of The Iron Shadow was intense, but they were back at the hotel before Jeannie knew it. Inside, they found Pete, sitting on the bed and watching TV. He looked up when the door opened. How was the museum?
Jeannie smiled. She brought her closed hand to her mouth, and pushed it forward, opening it to a loose claw. Incredible. While her Mom used the bathroom, Jeannie hopped on the bed, pushing her earliest edition of The Iron Shadow towards Pete. Here, I think you'd like this.
He moved forward, picking it up with trepidation. Why?
Jeannie smiled as she looked at it. He's not super powerful, you know. He's just like you and me, but he makes a difference in people's lives. He's what I want to be. And he reminds me of Dad.
Pete nodded. Cool! He placed it down in front of him, and laid on his stomach. He patted the space on the bed next to him, and Jeannie joined him with a smile. As they read, she filled him in on all the villains and the important characters, without giving away any spoilers. They were enjoying themselves, laughing, and Jeannie finally realized that they would be really happy again, even without their Dad around, and that that was okay.