Fallen

JR Chandler

It was a frozen day in December. One of those days where anyone with any sense stayed inside the house. But JR Chandler was known for not having much sense in his head...he was the town's biggest screw-up...his father's big disappointment...his own worst nightmare.

His face right now sported three days of growth on a beard. He had been in lock up and couldn't get a shaver. Since his release this morning, he had taken a shower but couldn't bear to look in the mirror to shave.

If anyone spied him, from a distance right now, walking through this cemetery they would see a rich man- his expensive clothes creating a facade he couldn't live up to: successful, pulled together, sane.

It had been years since he felt like any of those things.

JR looked down at the grave. "Hi, mama." He bent and brushed the snow up, revealing her name. His gloved hand traced the letters. "You probably already know...but...it looks like I messed up again."

(Heaven bend to take my hand
and lead me through the fire.


Be

the long awaited answer
to a long and painful fight.

Truth be told I've tried

my best
but somewhere along the way I

got caught up in all

there was to offer


And the cost was so much more than I could bear) ( Sarah McLachlan)

He felt the moisture on his cheeks, stinging his skin as the cold wind whipped over his skin, before he realized he was crying. He wanted to tell his mother than he had done his best to not get in trouble again, to not hurt anyone this time, to make her proud but that would just be a flat out lie.

JR had done what he always did. He lied, building up Greenlee's hope about children he knew would never be born, he cheated, not caring if that would hurt Amanda, pretending all along he didn't know she was fragile and needy and craved someone to love her more than they did any other person, and in the end he took a drink, then another, and another until the world spun and became black. Was he a murderer now? The cops seemed to think so.

(Though I've tried, I've fallen.


I have sunk so low.
I messed up.


Better I should know,
so don't come round here and tell me I told you so...)

He couldn't blame anyone for the disaster his life had become but that didn't stop him from running through the names in his mind...his father could have given him a better example...Zach could have kept his word about their deal...if Alexander Cambias hadn't killed Dixie she would be here to keep Jr out of trouble...if Greg Madden didn't steal Kate then everything would have been different...if Babe never slept with Jamie, or never even kissed him, never chose him over JR...if, if, if...but he knew that was all bullshit. Only one person was to blame for this.

(We all begin with good intent.
Love was raw and young.


We believed

that we could change ourselves.


The past could be undone.)

"I can't seem to do anything right," JR told Dixie. "Maybe I should just kill myself...before Little A finds out what a loser his father is..."

In his mind, JR heard a chorus of voices:

Jamie, Don't you dare take the punk's way out, brother

Kendall, If you die I will never know what happened to my husband. Haven't you hurt me enough already?

Colby, I love you...don't leave me...I still need you.

Tad, You can do better tomorrow, son.

Adam, That would be a permanent solution to a temporary problem. We can get you out of this latest trouble.

Babe, What about Little A? What will I tell our baby?

Zach, You killed me, Junior! Kill yourself and make us even.

JR grabbed his head, trying to shut the voices off, and crumbled to the ground, leaning against the grave stone. All he knew was he was tired, too tired to try again to get sober, too tired to try again to find love, too tired to fight his weaknesses for another minute.

(But we carry on our backs the burden,
time always reveals.


In the lonely light of morning,
in the wound

that would not heal.


It's the bitter taste of losing everything
that I've held so dear.

I've fallen...
I have sunk so low


I messed up.


Better I should know,
so don't come round here and tell me I told you so...)

He pulled the gun out of his pocket, feeling the slick cool metal resting in his hand. It would only take a moment to get the job done. But a huge part of him worried that he couldn't even kill himself effectively. He would probably end up at the hospital, with everyone he loved gathered around, having to wring there hands once more over poor, fucked up JR.

(Heaven bend to take my hand-
nowhere left to turn.


I'm lost to those I thought were friends,
to everyone I know.


Oh, they turn their heads,

embarrassed.


Pretend that they don't see.


But it's one missed step,
one slip,

before you know it


and there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed!)

He raised the gun, placing it at his temple, careful to keep his eyes looking straight ahead now, not down at where his mother lay buried. He could almost smell the famous chocolate chip cookies that Dixie had used to make everything right for her boys when they were children. But he wasn't a child anymore.

JR let out a few short breaths. "I can do this. I can end this. I can't spend the rest of my life in prison...my son shouldn't have to visit his Dad there...I can do this."

His hand shook as he tried to work up the nerve to pull the trigger.

"On three...one...two..."

(Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low.


I messed up.


Better I should know
so don't come round here and tell me I told you so.

"Don't." The voice was gentle, feminine, and once, long ago, she had been someone he always felt better when he was around...but that was very like ago now...nearly another lifetime.

Why does she have to be here now? He thought.

"Just walk away," JR said.

But she walked closer instead.

He stumbled to his feet, suddenly feeling foolish, and shoved the gun in his pocket. Turning his back on her, JR wiped away his tears. When he turned back around, she was right next to him. "For a perfect woman, you have hella bad timing."

"Perfect?" She laughed. "Don't you know that's just a myth? Don't believe the hype, JR. I'm no more perfect than you are..."

"Pathetic?"

"Without redemption," she settled on. Her eyes moved to the gun. "That doesn't get you out of paying for your sins, you know. Unless you don't believe in Hell."

"This is Hell."

"Pine Valley?"

He chuckled. It was amazing how only moments before he was at his lowest point and now he could actually appreciate a joke.

"Earth. Life," JR said. "My life is a living hell. Can you blame me for wanting it to be over?"

"Yes. I can blame you. You have a son to think about."

Sighing,, JR broke eye contact. "He's small enough to still see me as a hero. I don't think I'll be able to handle it the day he realizes what I really am."

"All children eventually grow disillusioned with their parents but then they become parents themselves and...suddenly its easier to see its not all black and white...life is lived in the gray areas. I can't stopped you from killing yourself, if that is what you are determined to do, but know that is the worst thing you could ever do to your son: take his father away."

"Why do you care? If you aren't perfect, if you aren't a saint, then you should hate me."

Bianca looked in his eyes for a long moment, and then said "Life is too short to spend it hating anyone...especially yourself." She stuck out her hand. "Can I have the gun, JR?"

Slowly, he passed it over to her. Bianca emptied the bullets.

JR asked "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I took lessons at a shooting range a few years ago after...Michael."

Where JR would have let the bullets fall into the snow, Bianca was too careful to do that. She shoved them in one pocket of her black wool coat and the gun in the other.

JR ran his hand through his long, messy hair. "What are you even doing in town? Home for the holidays? They can't be too merry with your sister's husband going missing, probably due to my latest drunken blackout."

"I'm home because Kendall needs me...and it looks like you do too."

"We aren't friends anymore, Bianca. Don't make me your pet project. You can't save me."

No one can save me now, he thought

(Though I've tried, I've fallen...
I have sunk so low.


I messed up!


Better I should know so don't come round here
and tell me I told you so...)

Snow started to fall on them. It floated delicately through the air, landing on their hair, then shoulders, and drifting down to cover their clothes.

"No, I can't. So I guess you better..." Bianca leaned close to JR and issued a challenge, her words soft, filled with equal parts tenderness and toughness, "save yourself."

Then she turned and walked away. He watched her go over to Mona's grave, bend down and start talking to her grandmother.

Save yourself, save yourself, save yourself, repeated in his mind, Save yourself.

XXXXXXXXXX

He stood in front of the room full of sinners. No better or worse than him. He wanted to say he wasn't like this people, but he was. He was just the same. JR knew there was only one way out of this hole he had put himself in, and it started here.

"My name is Adam Chandler, Junior, and I am an alcoholic."