A/N: I said I was going to postpone these chapters, but I have this one written already so I thought I would release it a bit early. I hope it's up to the other ones.

I'm going to go with the films version of the dad's name: Jack. I mean, having three people called Jess in one story is pushing it a bit.

Enjoy! ^^

Chapter 9: Gone

I didn't speak to the older Jess again that day; the signal was completely. I couldn't believe it, but there was no alternative. He couldn't have known about Leslie falling, Terabithia and what I thought when I watched her run through the rain.

He'd grown up without Leslie. The thought made be want to sick. How had he made it through the day... No, how I had I made it through the day. It was hard enough going a night without talking to her, little own go five years knowing she'd never come back. That must have been worse than what it was like before she came to me. I couldn't let Leslie out of my sight.

The day past by slowly, as I was wishing it through. Every second was like an hour when I was waiting to see Leslie again. I must have been excited because I woke myself up, usually Dad gets me up to make me do my chores. How early must I be up. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. "What?" I said, voice trailing off.

It was seven o'clock. Dad hadn't got me up really early to make me do my chores, he had let me have a rest instead. "Jess," a small voice whispered. "Jess, are you up?"

"Yeah, I am," I told her, getting out of bed.

I completely forgot. It's Monday! I have school today. A day with Scott, all the teachers and being on my own again was frightening. I always had Leslie to look to for company; I never felt alone when I was with her.

Jess had mentioned that. He had been so sad and desperate thinking about what Leslie was thinking when she fell. Leslie had seen me before she fell, so even if... even if she does die, I won't have to feel that because I was with her until the end. I'd hate for her to be alone when for death. She didn't deserve it.

"What's wrong?" May Belle asked.

"Nothing," I said, rubbing my eyes. "Can you leave? I need to change." She nodded and shut the door behind her. For a brat, she was definitely being nice today.

After I had finished, I headed downstairs. When I heard my name, though, I stopped. I shouldn't eavesdropping, but I needed to hear it.

"He's obviously fragile at the moment," I heard Mum say.

"Don't you think I know that?" Dad growled back. "You should have seen him yesterday. I never knew kids could be so emotional."

"So why do you want him to go?"

"As much as I hate his school, he can't stay here and mope," Dad explained. "He needs to occupy his head, he needs something to take him away." There was a long pause. "Oh, you should have seen him yesterday, Mary."

"Why?" she asked. I heard her sit down.

"The poor kid has adult feelings in a kid's mind," he told her. "He's actually trying to cope with real loss, not just a kid falling out with his friend, real loss. And he blames himself, Mary. He thinks it's his fault for not protecting her."

I heard Mum sigh. "I hope she makes it."

"So do I," Dad said. "But he has to go to school."

"Can't you distract him?" Mum asked.

"You know damn well I can't," he replied. "We don't have the time or money. I have to work all the time at the shop and put food on the table." I heard something hit the table. "It's not his fault, it's mine."

"What do you mean?"

"I never treat him right," he replied. "He's lonely and sad and I've let him be like. Remember at the hospital, I scolded the kid. What kind of father am I?" I heard him stand up. "Have you got his breakfast ready?"

"I'll pour him some cereal," Mom said. "Jack, what if she doesn't pull through?"

"We can't think like that..."

I stopped listening after that. My parents were talking about my feelings, about whether or not to send me to school. They weren't talk about May Belle, or the others, they were talking about me! "Jess!" Mum called up the stairs. "It's breakfast."

"Thanks, mum," I said, walking through the door and making a start on the cereal they had laid out for me.

"You're welcome," she said.

As I ate cereal I was brought back to the crushing reality. I remember what the doctor said: partial paralysis. I think that means you could not be able to walk; that's what I heard my eldest sister say. I could have paralysed her...

"When are we going to go and see Leslie?" I asked, shovelling another spoonful of cereal into my mouth.

"We'll go after school," Mum replied. "Listen, Jess. She won't be able to talk to you for a while, you do know that, don't you?"

"She's in a coma, mum," I muttered, avoiding my parent's glances. "She'll come out of it eventually."

I caught my parents looking at each other out of the corner of their eye. "Just be prepared, thing's don't always go well," Dad said. "In fact, things can get pretty bad pretty quickly. Remember that, and remember it was you who saved her."

I didn't reply to that, I just stared out of the window. "Enjoy school today," Mum said. "I've packed you a lunch. Don't forget to loo after you sister."

I nodded.

xXx

Why weren't Dad's things on his desk. Come to think of it, the whole shop looks different. Not huge things, but pictures that were there were gone and some stock was missing. This wasn't good. Had we been burgled? No, it couldn't be that: the more expensive, which wasn't that expensive, equipment was exactly where it was.

I picked up the phone, dialled my number and waited. Ring... ring... ring... "Hello?" my Mum answered.

"Hello, Mum," I said. "It's Jess."

"Hi Jess," she said. Mum sounded different: her voice was a lot deeper than usual.

"I need to speak to Dad quickly, there's something up at the shop," I said, drumming my fingers on the table.

There was a silence. Not a normal silence, an awkward silence like I had said something awful. "Are you there, Mum?" I asked, when she didn't say anything at all.

"Is this a joke?" she whispered.

I frowned. "What do you mean?" A joke, where's the joke in asking to speak to your dad?

There was another really long silence. "Have you bumped your head, Jess Aarons?" she said, with what sounded like poison in her voice. I must have done something pretty bad; she only used both of my names when I had. This sounded serious.

"You know well your dad's dead," she growled. "Be back for dinner, and don't call like this again." She hung up the phone on me.

Time seemed to a slowed down and I lost control of my fingers. The crash of the phone hitting the ground woke me from my dreadful epiphany. "Oh my God," I whispered. No one would joke like that, so it must be true. The only explanation was... Lesley not dying that day changed something huge.

I shut my eyes, trying to remember what happened. My memory was a dirty, fragmented space at the moment. I had two memories contrasting, like I was caught in the waking stage of a dream. On the one hand, I remember Dad growing up, getting old, helping May Belle. However, I also remember him not being there. I remember coming home from school to Mum on her own.

The shop was different now, too. I guess I work here and Mum owns it, that's the only way it makes sense. I don't understand, if the past was changed then why can I still remember what it was like before. Since the younger me changed something, those memories of Leslie's death were gone, so why did I have them?

I needed to speak to him. "Hello, hello?" I shouted into the microphone. "Come on, you've got to be there."

Nothing. No response. I probably shut it off when the signal went. Damn me!

He'd be back tomorrow. Something must have happened and I needed to find out what, first. I needed to get home, fast. Locking up the rest of the rooms, I shut off the radio and sped out of the door. "Where's my car?" I asked aloud, looking frantically around. My old car, that I had come to respect, was no longer there. Instead, Dad's car was.

Oh crap. "Oh no, oh no," I said. Dad had given me that car, but now he wasn't around to do it. What else will have changed? I started the car and tore off down the road.

The journey home took longer than ever; this car could barely move faster than me. "Damn it," I shouted. "Move it!" Slamming my hand on the side of the steering wheel.

xXx

I hated the school bus trip. I invited May Belle to sit next to me as I was too frightened of being on my own. I had relied on Leslie, now she wasn't there and I felt more alone than ever. All I saw, when I shut my eyes, was Leslie in the hospital bed. Without the older me to talk to, I retreated back into my shell.

"Jess," May Bell said, looking over to me. I was by the window, watching the trees run away from me. The Terabithians probably hated me; I had hurt their beloved queen.

"What is it?" I grunted, sounding more and more like Dad every time I spoke. "What do you want?"

She handed something to me. I frowned; she had given me her Twinkie. "Here you are," she said, smiling.

I looked at it in my hand. This reminded me of Janice taking her Twinkie, and Leslie. Janice had been through more than a lot. I suppose you don't really know how anyone else thinks. Shutting my eyes, stopping the thoughts of the careless pair of Leslie and me, and pushed it back into her hand. "It's all right, May Belle," I said, leaning my forehead against the window, feeling the vibrations shake my head. "You have it. I owe you, anyway, for not protecting you either."

I'm useless. I couldn't help my sister, I couldn't help Leslie and I couldn't, really, help my future self. I'm so glad I spoke on that radio. Had I not, I was destined to the "hell" he had gone through. He wasn't lying, that voice was so full of dread and misery that it was difficult to listen to. I wonder what happened when she died? No... I don't want to think about it.

The next thing I knew, I was in class, staring at Leslie's empty seat. Staring at her empty desk. I could hear the dull muttering of my teacher, Mrs. Myers, but she sounded like she was very far away and under water. "... Aarons." I heard. The whole class looked at me, but I didn't know until she said it again. "Jess Aarons."

I couldn't speak and I couldn't look away from her desk. I thanked God that she hadn't died. "Jess Aarons," Mrs. Myers said, but not in her usual, dragon like voice. It was soft, much like my dad's and, exactly like with Dad, the shock caused my to look at her. "Come outside, I need a word."

I nodded, mechanically, and followed her outside.

Once I was outside, I leaned on the wall and waited for the scold that was on its way. "This must be hard for you," she said, sighing. I looked up, mouth agape. "Of course I know," she said, answering what I was just about to say. "I'm her teacher, I know everything about my students."

I couldn't respond. "She'll be all right," she said. "Let me tell you, in this world there is not one thing more terrible than a hurt child." Nothing, no response. "I did hear what you did, as well."

I looked up at her, she was smiling at me. "That was an incredible thing to do," she praised. "Not many adults possess that kind of courage, you should be proud of yourself."

It's not incredible. I squeezed by fists so hard I could feel the skin on my palm break. I'm not incredible. She's incredible. I hated this, I hated being treated like the good guy. I wasn't. I wanted to scream that at her, but the words just wouldn't come.

"She was special, an extraordinary girl," Mrs. Myers said, looking off, away from me. "As teachers, we don't meet someone like her very often. And, when we do, we know what they are. The idea of her hurt is a terrible thing," she shook her head. "And if it's hard for me, I can't imagine what it's like for you."

Was this really Mrs. Myers? Was this the same women that struck fear into the whole class's hearts with one glance? She must have been replace. "You don't have to reply," she comforted. "I know you'll be distracted, anyone would be, but just try and listen in lessons. All right?"

I nodded quickly. "Go on, get back in," she said, pushing the door open for me.

After that, the rest of the lesson passed by in a blur. Why was everyone being so nice to me? I didn't deserve it; I did what anyone would do if they met Leslie. She was the one who was hurt. If I was such a hero, then why was Leslie lying a coma. A hero wouldn't have let that happen. If I was a real hero, Leslie would be sitting right next to me. They didn't know I was going to abandon her, I hadn't told anyone about that part of the story, and the only reason I didn't was I realised how scared my future self was. It had frightened me into staying. Heroes don't need to be frightened into saving people! That's not a hero, that's a coward.

My lessons were spent doodling pictures of Leslie. However, every time I finished them, I got angry that they didn't look like her and scribbled over her. She was impossible to draw, every time you tried you missed her spirit. No artist, not even the great artists, could draw Leslie. My break and Lunch were spent in the toilet, sitting with my head in my hands waiting for the bell to ring. I should be outside helping May Belle and protecting her, but I couldn't bare to see the places Leslie and I had sat. I kept thinking she might die or be in a wheelchair.

"Please, God," I begged. "Please don't let her die, don't let her be hurt because of my stupidity. Punish me instead!" I buried my face further into my hands. "I was the one who did it, why does she have to suffer because of me?"

I hated everyone treating me like a little hero who need to be rewarded for his good deed. It wasn't fair. I deserved to be shunned, shouted at, punished for what I had done. Not this. I couldn't help but wonder what Leslie would do if she was in my position, but I realized that she wouldn't be. Leslie would never leave me like I was going to leave her, she wouldn't even consider it.

After a music lesson, which I couldn't join with and Ms. Edmunds did not make me (she smiled at me when I entered the class, but nothing more), I headed to the bus and brought May Belle to sit with me. "How was your day?" May Belle asked. It sounded like Dad had told her to keep an eye on me, or something like that.

"It was fine," I lied, not wanting to talk to anyone about it.

xXx

I didn't mention anything at dinner about what I had said to Mum on the phone. It was silent, as ever, and I couldn't help but look around at how different the house was.

For a start, there was barely any furniture left, we must have had to sell a lot to get by, and a lot less food on my plate. The spot where Dad had set was empty, without his chair. If you didn't know that he once was there, you couldn't tell that there had ever been a father in this family.

Should I feel guilty? I had killed my own father! There was nothing worse, in the world, than that. I don't know what I felt. No, I can't be blamed for this... why was that so easy to admit? Maybe it's because I saved Leslie. It wasn't my fault, yet. I didn't feel anything, not a damn thing. I couldn't believe it and it was very difficult to rationalise. Perhaps I was numb because, at this point, I could change this. But what if I can't...

Now, how was I going to find out what happened? I couldn't ask Mum again and she would never believe the truth. Mum's out of the question. My other sisters wouldn't care and were too old to give a damn about me. That left only one person... May Belle. She was perfect for this. That wasn't the real problem, though. What the real problem was not drawing attention to myself. I had to stop May Belle from telling Mum.

Why did I have to do all the thinking? I'm not that good at it.

"May Belle," Mum said, as we finished. "It's your turn to clean the dishes today." She hadn't looked at me once during dinner and she was still avoiding my direction.

That's helpful. "I'll help, Mum," I said. This would put me more in the green with Mum.

She just nodded. I actually felt bad for what I had said earlier, but there was no way I could have known. My memories came back in blurs and they were incredibly difficult to access. It felt like I had been seriously concussed.

"Thanks, Jess," May Belle said, as I stood by her washing the dishes.

"Don't worry about it," I replied, whilst everyone was in the room. "I don't have anything else to do, anyway. It's Sunday night."

We washed in silence for a moment, as the rest of the family cleared out of the kitchen. After about five minutes, and checking to make sure there was no one near enough to hear, I started my question. "May Belle?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember what happened to Dad?" I asked. May Belle was still very young, she was only nine. Like all little kids, she always wanted to prove herself. She didn't say anything at first, and I had to tread carefully here. I didn't like upsetting May Belle, but I might be able to do something about it if.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, looking down at the dishes. May Belle was very close with Dad, so she must have been hit the hardest. I don't remember Dad dying, I just remember sadness and the fact that he wasn't there. Was that significant?

Damn, she was curious. This wasn't good. I had to play to her age. "It's just..." I've got it. "I just don't think you would remember, you were very young then. You probably don't remember anything..." I left the edge hanging.

"Yes I do!" she argued. Got her.

"Really?" I said, feigning shock.

"Yeah!" she growled. "He was in a car crash," she explained. "Someone crashed into him on the freeway!" She must have had a long time to cope with it, or was very annoyed with me, because her voice didn't sound cracked or sad.

I had to shake my head to stop me from getting distracted at the horrific thought; I couldn't afford to be distracted now that I had my sister's attention. "That's pretty impressive," I said, running the my plate under the tap. "But there is no way you'll be able to remember the date."

Shouldn't I be able to remember the date? Surely I'd been told it over the years? Time was just a mess at the moment, because of me.

"Yeah, I do!" she said, this time perking up slightly. I assume it's because she thinks that she had impressed me. "It was the sixteenth of April!"

The sixteenth of April? Leslie had died on the fourteenth of April, that was a date that I would never forget until the day I died and beyond, which means that, since days go by at the same rate, the younger me was currently in the fifteenth of April. Oh shit... I checked the clock, it was ten past eight. By the time I got to the shop, the younger me would already be asleep. That means I couldn't talk to him until tomorrow!

"Jess?" May Belle said, clicking her fingers in front of my face. I ignored her.

I had school tomorrow... should I miss it? No, there was no point disrupting the family because the younger me would be at school at the same time. Also, I would probably be visiting Leslie straight after... Oh no! What if it happened before then?

"May Belle!" I snapped, getting her full attention with her first name. Now wasn't the time for thought, I was bordering on panic. "Do you remember what time it happened?"

She paused for a second. "He went out at night, so about eight to nine."

"Oh, thank God!" I said, all the air coming out in one enormous sigh.

"What?" May Belle whispered, mouth agape.

I said that out loud, didn't I? There is no way she would tell Mum about this. I had to try. "Can you do me a favour?" I asked. "Can you not mention this to Mum?"

"Why not?"

"She's got enough on her mind at the moment," I explained. "This will make her think about Dad again. You don't want to make Mum sad, do you?" She shook her head. "Thanks, you're a good kid."

She smiled at me in response.

In the silence that followed, I looked around the room. Like I had said, there was much less in the house than before. The clutter that once littered the house was replaced by emptiness. One thing I noticed was that there were no pictures of Dad. I couldn't see one. When I was younger, there was loads of pictures of the family, mostly of Dad and May Belle, but it looked like they had all be cut out. Dad wasn't there any more and I think I know why...

Mum was feeling like how I felt after Leslie had died, she just wanted to get Dad out of her head. She didn't want the sadness that was there in remembrance. Unlike myself, however, she had removed any trace. After getting rid of the paints, I tried to spend all my time remembering her, regardless of how much it hurt to do so. I always felt like if I forgot Leslie, then she would really die.

I tried to remember my new past. Every now and again my memories would cross over. The day Dad had given me a car was clear in my head at first, but the more I remember that day the weirder the memory got. All I had done that day was fix radios, which I had to do to help Mum at the shop.

I still couldn't remember Leslie. Had something else happened to her? I couldn't remember anything.

Damn it, I had a whole day to wait and worry. If I didn't do this properly, then Dad would be gone forever!

A/N: Well, there you have it. It's more of a connection between the two sections, I hope it's worth reading.