Aftermath

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

So I am finishing with my biggest risk chapter (yes someone had guessed/hoped I would include this).

Jessica.

I have never written her but feel it is only appropriate to see her point of view. This is the final chapter. I hope you have enjoyed this – it was originally a one-shot but has become two years of much more.

. . .

The simple wooden photo frame trembled in her hands as she sat starting at the grainy image from their childhood. Her mouth was a soft smile as tears streaked her bare cheeks. Bittersweet memories filled her mind. Her sister, the one person that had always been there, now gone.

In the photo they were both preteens, playing happily together, as they always did. They had been that rare set of siblings that had few quarrels, well at least when they were little. As adults they had the occasional cross word, but usually one of them was quick to see the other was making sense.

Jessica wiped the heal of her free hand across her face trying to banish the tears, but she had been strong for others too long. This was her time, her moment. A chance for her to sit down and mourn the loss of her sister . . . her best friend . . . her confidant . . . her everything.

The tears started once more, flowing freely this time. Curling her legs up under her, Jessica reached for the photo album she had previously placed on the coffee table. Beside it a half empty glass of white wine, no longer chilled. It made her realise how long she had been sat there staring at the collection of framed photos that now rested on the couch beside her.

Lifting the heavy book onto her lap, Jessica started to turn the pages - looking at the collection of memories. Years of photos she had collated of their time together. She had started with photos from her first camera. Holiday snaps taken by one or the other of them, some had them both in. Various places that they had been with their family over the years - theme parks, camping, hiking, visits to family far and wide. Their parents had encouraged a sense of adventure. They had wanted them to learn and explore their surroundings. Thanks to their parents Jessica had a wealth of childhood memories – the laughter they had shared, the discoveries they had made.

As one page blurred into another her tears continued to roll down. Childhood images slipped into teenage shenanigans. Images of summer camps and house parties. Jessica cringed at their so called fashion sense – the flared denim of the 70s morphed into the neon 80s. It had been a cruel assault on fashion, but given them many a laugh when they had looked back on the times together. Frizzy hair and Fame branded clothes, at the time they had been so impressed with the looks they had spent time creating. Oh how wrong they were.

She had to laugh at shots from each of their own 21st Birthday parties - the moment they had proudly reached adulthood. Before this Aaron had started to appear alongside Haley in picture after picture. Those two had been inseparable. Yet they still had so much time for each other, sisters against the world.

Photos of first cars mixed with college images, moving to graduations and first days at work. Dates and girls nights out, the two of they had always stuck together – no matter what.

Jessica paused, her eyes locked on the photos from Haley's bachelorette party. Happy smiles radiated back at her. The boy she had met at school had been about to become the man she was to marry. That night they had laughed, they had cried, they had drank and danced.

Turning the pages she was faced with images from the wedding itself, a happy day for Haley and Aaron. It had been a small simple ceremony - few on Aaron's side, slightly more on Haley's. Jessica had been right there beside her, supporting her sister. Her deep purple dress matching the bows on the chairs as the two had sworn solemnly on their life and love together.

Jessica slammed the book shut, her shoulders shaking as her silent tears turned to body wreaking sobs. How could such a happy day lead to such misery. Haley had loved Aaron, no-one could ever doubt that, and Jessica truly believed that Aaron had adored her sister. But somehow Aaron joining the FBI had rotted that love and admiration. Slowly bit by bit.

Jessica had watched as the happy couple had moved through life together, Haley fully supporting Aaron's decision. They were like that supporting each other. Initially it hadn't seemed too bad, the additional hours and such. However the BAU had changed all of that.

The birth of Jack had been a hopeful changing point, but somehow it seemed to make Aaron more driven. He was determined to make the world a safe place for his son – something that was impossible. Jessica made sure she was there, right by her sister when she needed her; helping her with the day to day things that Aaron was not there for.

She had stood by Haley as she had summoned up the courage to divorce Aaron. She had seen the misery it had caused everyone involved. This was compacted by Haley and Jack needing to go into hiding. It had been all Jessica could do to stop their father hunting Aaron down himself and finishing him off for 'The Reaper'. Maybe if he had . . .

The tears had stopped, no more left, but now she felt sick. It had been so long since she had seen Haley and Jack. She had accepted their separation on the understanding that it was temporary, that one day they would be together again.

But now she knew they wouldn't.

Inside Jessica desperately wanted to be angry, to shout and threaten all sorts like her father. She wished she could blame Aaron, hate him for causing this. She needed to grieve but in her own way. The only way she knew how.

She needed to be a close to Haley as she could.

She needed to be near Jack.

Pushing away the album, Jessica left the photos behind and made her way up to bed, promising that she would be there for Jack, and Aaron, no matter what. After all it would have been what Haley wanted.

. . .

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.

Washington Irving, author