Disclaimer: Yep, don't own Jericho or its character's, but the story line is mine along with the words I give them.
Authors Note: I am very sorry for making all of you wait. RL took precedence over my pleasure, but now I have returned. This chapter will have hints of Chapter Three: Ends and Beginnings and Chapter Eighteen: Debt Paid, and a return to Jericho's pilot episode and a bit from episode The Day Before. As always, this is AU, and I've taken some creative license. This chapter wasn't beta read, due to my anxiousness to get the next bit of the story to you. Sorry Beta buds. So please, if something hits ya wrong please critique. I have thick skin and may wish to beta later.
Also a reminder that this is my therapy, but not from the show ending prematurely. THE VIEWERS ROCK! This will become my H/J therapy for an upcoming season that seems to have chosen another pairing. Oh well. It's great to be able to manipulate fiction to your own bidding. Long live fan fiction. And the next chapter is now in the typing stage, so expect it in about a week.
Warning: Language. Melodrama run-a-muck, along with grammar and spelling.
Chapter 19: Things I've Done
by Ann Pendragon
'Boy, get up!' The voice prodded.
'Granddad?' Jake mumbled, trying to open his eyes against the bright light that glowed just beyond his lids, and found the action impossible. Even if it wasn't the case, he still wouldn't have bothered pulling himself from the languid waking sleep he found himself. Jake felt warm, like he was wrapped in his sleeping bag during an early morning at the lake, not the burning hot that had been weighing heavy over his being.
Jake took in a leisurely breath of cool, crisp, clean air and felt its soothing balm. It smelled of fall mornings, of contentment and calm. 'Let me be, Granddad. Let me rest just a little while longer.' Jake now felt the cooling air against his cheek. 'Maybe I can stay…'
'Like hell you are, boy. Like hell! Ya ain't stayin on my watch, so you better just git!' EJ Greens voice now rose to a unobliging roar in Jakes ear, starling him, but not raising him from the warmth he found himself wandering further and further into.
'My boy came too early' EJ's voice continued doggedly. 'I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you stay. Maybe we saved you a seat, but I aint gonna pull it out for ya now. It's not your time…'
'My time?' The weight of his grandfather's words began to sink past the comfort of Jake's warm haze. 'Wait—Granddad! Where am …?'
'Where you have no right bein right now…'
"Jake?" Another voice entered his mind and a presence could be felt at his side. The air around him began to change and Jake found himself pulled to that voice.
"Heather?"
'Go on boy.' Jake heard his grandfather once more. The old mans tone had softened. 'Keep following that girl of yours. Don't make her wait. We'll always be here when you need us…'
"Granddad…"Jake felt his voice catch.
The bright light that had held his eyes hostage now dimmed, as the nostalgic smell of fall leaves and cool water was abruptly replaced by the very real odors of sweat and antiseptic. But when he finally opened his eyes to the day light, the vision before him could very well have been the best of dreams.
Heathers wide blue eyes looked down into Jakes half opened lids. She took in a soul reaching breath of relief. "Jake!"
"Hey." Jake's voice croaked out, managing a week smile that faltered when he tried to move his body and was met by pain in the process.
"Try not to move too much, Jake. You're still healing…" Heather tried returning his smile but it faltered on her lips. Jake caught it immediately. He reached out to her, but felt the strength in his arm wane. She reached for his hand halfway and brought it to her lips, before holding it to the side of her face.
"How long?" Jake brushed his thumb over her cheekbone and into her hair.
"Nearly two days." Heather laced her fingers into his and pulled their joined hands down to the bed, clearing her throat. "You had ripped open some of your stitches and then your new injury…" 'That man shot you.' "You had lost some blood and then the fever you were running, coupled with exhaustion…"
Heathers voice trailed off from her grim laundry list, thinking of what Dr. Kenchy had had told them once Jake was stabilized. 'Jake's body had no other choice but to give out when it did. Its owner didn't have enough sense to stop on his own volition.'
"Fever?"
"104." Heather quietly answered, looking to their joined hands. "Infection had set into the wounds in your leg…"
At this, Jake quickly glanced down to the foot of the bed and let out a nearly inaudible sigh of relief at the sight of two legs under the sheets. Heather realized his action and felt a chill go down her spine for what could have been. She swallowed hard and went on.
"Mr. Perkins had one of Colonel Hoffman's men send penicillin to the clinic not long after you were brought in, said it would be taken out of our next rations." Heather paused. She needed him to know, if he didn't already, just how close he came to loosing more than his leg. How close what they just began together, almost ended. "If he hadn't sent the medicine, Jake…" Heather faltered and Jake squeezed her hand as tight as he could.
"I'm sorry." He meant to say it for all the things that had happened, all the things he was unable to stop, and for making her worry. But found his mind quickly wander to another reason; one that had secretly preyed on his mind since knowing it was to be him that would kill Phillip Constantino in the end. Maybe the man was only a sperm donor, at best, to Heather, but he was still Heather blood. And the fact she had to go through this. That thought alone, was where the sorry was born. "I'm sorry for everything."
Heather watched his big brown eyes turn from her now questioning stare. She somehow sensed what "everything" Jake was apologizing for and quickly found that it angered her.
"Sorry?" Heather said it a little louder than she had intended and it brought Jakes eyes back on hers. "Sorry for once again thinking of everyone else's safety but your own, Jake?" Her voice remained firm, but the anger was already being dulled by her love for him. "Sorry for adding another five years to everyone who loves you and my first gray hair?" Jake kept his silence; hurting dark eyes met now tearful blue. "Sorry for being the one left standing—for coming back to me?"
Jake tugged on Heathers hand with what strength he had, before she could say anymore. She instinctively moved into his arms, excepting the comfort.
"Shhh" he whispered into her hair while she began to cry into his neck. He wished everything to not hurt her, not worry her ever again, but knew the option was not his, nor ever would be. 'I'm always going to hurt her.'
"Oh, honey!" Gail Greens voice broke her son from his somber thoughts and the lovers from their embrace.
"Mom."
Gail took to her sons other side and planted a kiss to his forehead and then felt it with the back of her hand. "Much better." She partly mumbled to herself as she took a quick inventory of her now conscious son. Heather turned away to wipe at her eyes, while Gail took Jakes pulse and then began to fish in her pocket for the thermometer. Gail noticed Jake watching the girl the entire time. She smiled sadly at the two, understanding she had come in during a very emotional moment between them. Being that Heathers raised voice was what alerted Gail to Jakes room in the first place.
Gail reached for her sons shoulder and lightly squeezed. "Don't you worry about Jake, honey. He won't be rushing off anywhere, defending anything or fixing anything till we allow him to." She watched her son taking interest in the bed sheet in his hand and Heather gave her a tentative grin. Gail had fought the urge to chew out her son once more for his latest attempt at trying to kill himself, but felt the job had already been done by the other woman just moments ago.
It felt like a torch was being passed for Gail when she looked between the two and to her surprise it didn't bother her as much as she had expected. She gave Heather a fortifying smile for good measure and then reached for her hand in support. 'You're going to need it, honey.'
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
As the day wore on, Jake fell in and out of sleep in between visits from half the town and the clinic staffs prodding and poking. To his relief, his mother had given Heather a similar prescription for rest and had herded her to the staffs bunk room two doors down the hall, for some quiet. It was Heathers first real sleep since—well, a very long time. She promised to go as long as he did the same. The promise wasn't hard for Jake. He had neither the intention nor strength to leave his bed, let alone try another AMA anytime soon. Just keeping up with the string of people that dodged past his mother with news on the town was tiring enough.
"…without Heather helping out, it's going a little slower, but power is coming back throughout the town. And you'll be glad to know, Gray and Mr. Perkins have been getting on well..." Jake eyed his brother making the younger man grimace. Jake did not find the news all that comforting and his brother should have known better.
Gray was gullible and Mr. Perkins and those he represented, "the new government", wanted more than just Jericho's cooperation. Having Gray playing alone with the government official did not set well with Jake at all. At least, not till Jake had a better idea just what Mr. Perkins full intentions were. Maybe Jake was grateful for the albeit, late offer of manpower during Heathers search and the penicillin for his infection, but he wasn't about to count the man as trusted. In hindsight, he was just glad he held off punching the man.
"However you may feel about Mr. Perkins, he said a great deal in your favor. Like half the town, he seems to be under the impression that you're close to indestructible..."
Jake scoffed and shook his head, dismissing the thought. The present pain and weakness in his body let him know otherwise.
Eric grinned a little. Honestly, he'd thought that of his brother on many occasions. Maybe not indestructible, but damned lucky was certain.
"Col. Hoffman said he would have enlisted you as one of his hired guns if Jericho hadn't any use for you. Seems they have quite a few wanted citizens they need to track down, dead or alive." Jake was pretty sure who one of those citizens were. Jake's face darkened and Eric changed the subject.
"We're having the funerals tomorrow morning. Jimmy and I took care of the arrangements." Eric watched his brother turn to the window and nod his head.
Hospital beds tended to make people put on the kid gloves, when dealing with those laying in them.Jake was wondering when someone was going to mention Jericho's latest casualties, compliments of one Philip Constantino.
After things had began to settle in town, it was realized that after Constantino killed Manny Hayward at the farm, he snuck into town looking for Heather. Carl was killed by Constantino after he'd stumbled onto the ex-Mayor's hiding spot in the storm sirens out building, which happened to be Carl's hiding place after his own escape from the clinic. Bill came in afterwards, looking for Carl and must have found him and his own untimely end. It chilled Jake's insides cold, knowing that man had been moving around his town unchecked. He knew Constantino had been at the reception. …judging by that kiss last night in the square, I'd say you're gonna wish it was your life I took…' Jake pushed away the memory of a dead mans threat.
"Some of New Bern will be attending, along with Mr. Perkins. Mom says we may be able to get you out of here by then." Eric cleared his throat and followed his brother's gaze outside. He waited a moment, expecting Jake to give some sort of answer or word, but received none. His brother was still healing and Eric figured, still pretty damned exhausted from his marathon week. Whatever the case, Jake remained quiet and was once again, unreadable to his brother.
"How about I let you try and get some more sleep. Mom will be pushing me out of here soon enough, anyway." Eric nodded his head to Jake when he finally turned back to him. Jake returned the gesture and watched his brother retreat from the room.
'Sleep? Not likely now.' Jake turned his attentions back to his view of Mr. Grady's field, which sat just behind the west end of the clinic. His eyes slowly followed the long multiple rows of little green seedlings, that had found their way up and out of the dirt.
'Last I heard, you're not a farmer, Jake.' He wasn't sure why the memory came to him, right then. Maybe it was the field of young corn or maybe it was being informed of just what his job should be. 'Col. Hoffman said he would have enlisted you as one of his hired guns if Jericho hadn't any use for you.' Jake shook his head and felt his stomach knot. 'That's right; I'm good at killing people'. It's what he had told Stanley, before heading out to go kill Constantino. 'Haven't been having much luck keeping them protected.'
Jake was not given very long to think on his career choices when the wall outside his room took a smack to the drywall.
"I told you I wasn't going to catch it, Stanley. You're lucky that thing was empty." He heard Mimi yell.
As quietly as his brother left the room, Stanley entered just as loud with an agitated wife, sister and a bed pan in tow.
"Didn't get you a card, Jake. Thought you'd like the bed pan. Got lots of uses…" Jake watched Mimi and Bonnie glare at Stanley and somehow found it comforting. Mimi grabbed the bedpan off of him and tossed it onto the chair beside the door.
"Stanley thought Frisbee was one of those uses." Mimi tore her eyes from her big kid of a husband to smile at Jake, just as Bonnie punched her brother's arm for good measure.
Despite himself, Jake chuckled and shook his head. "Pull up some seats—a bed pan. Eric said Mom's bringing something in for supper…"
"Actually, Bonnie and I just wanted to stop by real quick to see how you're doing, before we go to your house for Heather…"
"I thought she was sleeping down the hall in the staff bunk room?" Jake quickly questioned.
"Ah, yeah." Mimi would have attempted to back peddle but saw no use. "She left to get some clothes, non—clinic issue, and a few things for you. It's getting dark so your mom asked us to pick her up."
Jake lay back on his reclined bed and sighed in frustration. "Tell her I'll see her when she gets here." Meaning he and Heather were going to have some words. "Thanks." He told the women as they waved goodbye.
Stanley smiled after his wife and sister and let out a large contented sigh. "God, I love being married." Stanley proclaimed just as Jessica came in to take Jake's vitals.
"Glad to hear it Stanley. I'm sure Mimi will be glad you approve." Jessica patted the tall farm boy and smiled at her patient. "Hey there, Jake. You know the drill."
Jake nodded his head and opened his mouth for the thermometer, in tired resignation
"So when's your big day, Jake?" It took a moment for Stanley's words to sink into Jake, but when they did, it was all he could do not to swallow the thermometer Jessica just placed in his mouth.
Jessica raised her eye to the two men and chuckled. "I do come in when the good stuff happens, don't I?" She checked her watch and grinned. "Keep that in your mouth, Romeo. You can give an answer for us when I'm done."
By then Stanley was holding his side from laughing while Jake wearily eyed his friend and menace at the foot of his bed.
"Stanley!" Jake choked out a warning as the thermometer was unceremoniously pulled from his mouth.
"98.9. Your mom says that's normal for you." Jessica smiled at Jake as she cleaned the thermometer and recorded the stats.
"Yeah, Jakes blood always ran a little hot." Stanley could not help himself. Jakes warning glare was more like a green light for Stanley, then a stop sign. He always knew he was getting somewhere with Jake when he was in his best friends crosshairs.
Jake continued to eye his friend, but shown no signs of answering while Jessica still stood amongst them. Jessica took the hint.
"I'll see you in about an hour, Jake." Jessica pulled her clipboard to her chest. "And don't go riling up my patient." She smacked Stanley with her pen on the way out.
Stanley grinned after her then back to his captive audience. He strolled over to Jake's bedside and plunked down in the chair beside it. Jake chose to go back to his view of Mr. Grady's field.
"Come on, Jake. You and Heather…" Stanley stared incredulously at his now sullen looking friend. "Jesus, all you needed this week was a sword and a white horse and Heather a tower to escape from. You don't even have the option now, to deny what the two of you feel for one another, not after all the hardcore public displays of affection these past few days…"
"I'm not denying anything, Stanley…" Jake turned back to his friend. "And this is not a fairy tail. I don't need anyone reminding me of what she means to me, or what happened because of m…" Jake stopped, like he'd given too much information, and turned back to the window.
A silence filled the room, while Stanley eyed his defensive friend. Was Jake getting cold feet? Why would a man, who had once been living life dangling by a bit of twine, now begin to back away from a life wrapped up with a big, beautiful bow; a life said man had earned? It only took a moment and a lifetime of knowing Jake, to put together an answer. 'Guilt.'
Stanley was going to go for broke and ask his friend what he'd been itching too, since Jake had come back to Jericho.
"What happened to you, Jake?" As answer, Jakes eyes snapped around and met his. Stanley didn't recognize his friend for a moment, but he did recognize the shadows that Jake kept as constant companions, slide over his features.
"Is this—this guilty complex you keep sporting, because of your past, Jake? Is it Chris or—or your family, or all the dumb ass shit you've pulled when you were young?" Jake turned back to the window silently. "The town let that go—hell, you told me Emily let that go. And your family and friends…you don't have to atone with us." Stanley shook his head and gave a dark chuckle. Jake was paid up with all of them in spades. "Is it what happened when you joined the military? Cause guys end up doing…"
"Stanley, lay off…" Jake growled.
"No, Jake." Stanley stood from his friend's bedside and walked in front of his view, only to receive a dark stare.
"Are you gonna let whatever you saw, whatever you did in the past, screw-up your future just when its beginning?" Stanley tried to get Jake to look at him, but failed. He just hoped his words didn't. "You are my best friend Jake. You're my brother. I've stood by you, accepted you when you've done things dumber than dirt. And my 'spidey-senses' are telling me your thinking about being real dumb…"
"If being dumb means leaving AMA again, then that's just Jake, Stanley. Hey boss, how are you feeling?" Jimmy walked from his spot in the door all smiles, not hearing all of what was said between the two men. Quickly, Jimmy felt the coolness between them when neither immediately answered.
Stanley gave a weak smile to the deputy. "Doing things against others better advice is just natural for Jake. Can't let the boat ride calm waters for too long."
Jimmy continued to look between the two men, unsure of what he had walked in on, but decided to tread lightly. He moved closer to Jakes bedside and cleared his throat. "Snuck in past your Mom at the front desk to see how you're doing, before I go back to town hall." Jimmy gave a warm smile. "For the last couple of days being as they have, things are running pretty good in the office. Me and Sara are keeping the troops in line and your brother has been some help." Jimmy paused a moment, before he began; his hat now in his hands. "Did Eric tell you about the funerals being held tomorrow?"
"Yeah." Jake spoke quietly. "Did." Jake looked from the deputy, somehow knowing there was more to the visit. He was proven right when Jimmy reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the inevitable.
"Also wanted to return this to you." The sheriff star sat in the palm of the deputy's hand. "Figured you'd want it for tomorrow when we burry Bill." Jimmy continued to hold out the star till realizing Jake wasn't taking it from him. Jimmy's dark brows knit over his baby blues in concern and then raised in understanding. "You're tired, Jake. I understand. But you'll be better tomorrow." Jimmy stepped forward and sat the piece of tin on Jakes bedside table, not asking if his friend wanted it or not, then placed his hat back on his head and smiled confidently. "See ya later Sheriff." Jimmy nodded to Stanley, now sitting by the window, and then was gone.
"Gotta go too." Stanley stood from his perch and wearily eyed his friend. "Think about what I said." He reached over and touched the star at the edge of the table, giving his friend a meaningful look. "Don't go and screw up your 'do over', Jake." And then he was out the door.
'My do over?' Jake looked at the badge, wearily. 'My chance to hit the ball again, even after I struck out.' Jake shook his head and grudgingly yawned. 'Damn Stanley and his metaphors and spidey sense.' Jake grumbled to himself as his eyes fell from the star and sleep overtook him.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
When Jake woke again, it was late and the sky was dark. The room light was low and he could make out a bundle of cloths in the far chair and a bowl of food on his bed tray just out of reach. His stomach appropriately growled.
"Damn it!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for the food and was met by the pain in his shoulder.
"Did we come at a bad time?"
Startled, Jake looked up and found a woman and her young daughter framed in the dimly lit doorway. "Mrs. Sanchez. Stacey…" Jake pulled his blanket closer to his bare chest with a surprised grin. "No-no, your fine. I'm just-well, I'm still working the kinks out of me. It's slow going."
The mother and daughter smiled and stepped inside the room near his bed. "That's why we stopped by; that and my cousin Louis. He'd fallen and broke his ankle last night getting our horses back onto our property and we had to bring him in.
"I'm sorry. How is he doing?"
"Best as he can with a crutch and a limp, but well, thank you. He's outside in the truck. He was just released." Theresa Sanchez nodded to the outside and Jake nodded in understanding of her cousin's injury.
"Stacey had heard that the Sheriff was here too and wanted to see you, and thank you…"
"Thank me?" Jakes brows drew in question even though a part of him had an idea what that 'thank you' was for. He had been avoiding this encounter for nearly a year. 'Hadn't been hard with all of hell breaking loose every other day.'
"Yes. She wanted to thank you—we both wanted to thank you for what you had done for her the night after the bombs."
Mrs. Sanchez's eyes glowed with an appreciation and kindness that pulled at Jakes chest. He looked down to the covers on his bed and then back. "I—I just did what I could for her…" Jake looked to Theresa and then to her daughter. "…for you." Jake's eyes caught the small scar he had created on the child's throat to save her; finding it long healed, and then to her eyes. Those deep brown eyes drew him in with their warmth and innocence, reminding him of somewhere, someone else's…
Stacey smiled brightly at Jake and his own deep eyes grew wide.
"Is that your Sheriffs star?" Jake turned to the neglected piece of tin on his bedside table and nodded. He didn't stop the little hands from lifting it from its spot and could only silently watch her as she held it with a child's wonder and reverence.
"We were all happy when you took the Sheriffs position." Theresa's voice broke through the short lull in conversation. "You'd already done so much for our town, after the bombs." Her eyes warmly smiled when Jakes met hers. "You're a hero to my little girl, Sheriff, to a lot of us."
Unlike everyone else who had given him the mantle "hero", Jake did not brush this woman's earnest words away or her eyes, but held them both. "Thanks." He spoke softly.
"I'm glad your not bad sick" The little girl spoke up. "So you can still be our Sheriff." The girls face beamed in the dim light as she handed Jake his star.
Jake took it gently from her small fingers and held the object if it had become new to him, changed. This time when he looked up into the little girls wide eyes, he only saw Stacey's. Jake breathed in deep. "Thank you."
"Come on, Stacey. We better let the Sheriff get his rest."
Quickly, the little girl hopped up on her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before meeting her mother at the door and waved. Jake quietly watched them leave then looked to the star in his hand. Something tickled the side of his cheek and he wiped it away.
'I saved that little girl.' Jake brushed his thumb across the star in his hand. 'I killed another…' Jakes brows crinkled with emotion.
'But you had to.' Jake heard his own voice inside his head. 'You had no choice. But you had a choice to save Stacey and you tried and did.'
Jake gently placed his star back on the bedside table and looked out the window to the rising moon. 'There is always a choice', he scolded himself. 'I had the choice not to end her life.'
'But if you hadn't, others would have paid the price. Just like Constantino…'
Jake closed his eyes tight, feeling some measure of disgust, comparing the two lives as if they were some how equal. Constantino was a selfish and sadistic bastard whose existence only promised more pain for those he came in contact with. But the little girl…
'She was an innocent. Her whole life ahead…'
'A life in a war torn armpit of a country. There are no innocent in war, Green, only casualties and survivors.' Jake physically tried to shake away the words his commander had spat at him in disgust, moments after they drug her body away, along with his…
Jake placed his head in his hands and tried to stop his memories, these moments he replayed in his head when he let his mind get too empty or allowed himself time to stand still, moments that relived themselves in his dreams. 'I can't do this anymore…'
'Then tell her—tell Heather. Maybe it won't make it go away, but at least you will have given her the truth. You owe her that. You don't deserve a future with her if you're not willing to give up your past. Choose to do the right thing…'
He remembered his confession to her over the radio, those moments he thought she was slipping away from him. 'Every right choice...' Jake felt the words in his heart like it was that moment all over again, and felt the fear of loss overtaking him.
"Jake, are you okay?" Jakes eyes flew to the sound of Heathers voice and could not hide the fear and heaviness in his eyes.
"Jake?" Heather moved swiftly to his bedside when he did not answer, but continued to stare into her as if she were to disappear. "Jake?"
The heart in his chest slammed while his eyes passed over her concerned and loving features. 'There is no future for us… till she knows my past.'
"I need to tell you about the things I've done."
Heather froze before the man she loved and felt her heart catch at the desperation that bled from his words. After a moment of silence, she spoke. "Jake, I know about Jonah—and Chris. Emily told me about the botched robbery…"
"And how I ran afterwards? The mess I left behind for my family and friends to clean-up?" Jake finished for her.
Wide eyed, Heather nodded her head quietly. At the time she thought Emily had told her those things about Jake as a friendly warning. Now she understood the reasons weren't so pure. Either way, knowing Jake's troubled past had not deterred her interest in him then or her love for him now. "I know you are no longer that man, Jake. Whatever else you may have done, it's the past…"
"It's a part of me." Jake eyed her steadily. "The part I don't think I can ever change, ever wipe clean." Jake paused, looking down to his hands, wishing he didn't have to tell her these things, but knew it must be done. "You might not want to be a part of…"
Jakes heart stopped when he felt her move from his side, interrupting his words and the relief he felt when she didn't step out the door, but closed and locked it behind her, before returning to his side.
"Then tell me, Jake." Heather pulled up the seat beside his bed and quickly sat down, determination set her features. "I showed you mine, so show me yours. Let's see if this sends me running and screaming." Maybe it sounded flip to say, but it was true. She loved him, all of him, and the sooner he could get past whatever it was that haunted his heart and realized that fact, the better.
Jake took in a shaky breath when her hands came down upon his arm; caught the strength and reassurance in her eyes. She had exposed her worst secrets to him only a few days prior and here they still were. The squeeze of her hand steadied his resolve and he began to look for the words to begin.
"I told you before, I left Jericho never intending on coming back." Jake paused. "One of my best friends was dead and I had a part in it. No matter what part of it, I knew Emily was going to blame me after Jonah and Mitch were done with her. And I knew my family…" he paused once more. "At the time I thought that this was it, the one last screw up I'd make before they were done with me. I couldn't face them. Hell—it took the need for money to make me stop at Granddads to get the cash to run as far as I did."
When Jake nosed the Roadrunner onto his Grandfathers property, EJ was already standing on the porch waiting for him…
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Granddad!" Jake ran up to the porch and stopped just before the step that held his uncharacteristically silent grandfather.
EJ Green raised out one of his gnarled hands, grabbing Jakes with the other and dropped a rolled up gob of hundreds and fifties into it. It was the elder Greens gambling money.
"Deputy Taylor was looking for your company earlier, boy. So I suspect you better get going."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"And then he gave me this sad smile, like he knew this moment was coming, that he somehow saw the future, but knew it wasn't his place to stop it." Jake looked out the window of his room. "It was the last time I'd ever see my grandfather alive." It was just one more of Jakes regrets.
EJ Green knew he had cancer, then. He hadn't told his family yet. Didn't see the need when the doctor said 'inoperable', so he kept it quiet for the next year. It wasn't till the week he died, that everyone found out at the hospital. He said he'd had a better time living his last year, not having all of them going 'sad sack' around him. EJ died a week later. Jake was in South America then.
"Granddads money was enough for me to get to Denver, put the car in storage and buy a ticket to New York. By then I found out I didn't even make it into the local papers in Jericho, that Mayor Green had pulled his strings, so I decided to do something I didn't even expect. I enlisted in the army…"
Jake had washed out towards the end of training. No matter how hard the military tried to break him down to build him back up into a soldier, they could never remove the first brick.
"After washing out, I picked up a job in South America, flying cargo out of Brazil to Texas, and everywhere in between. I knew about the job through an acquaintance of Jonah's from a couple years prior. The pay was good because the risk was high and I didn't give a damn about the danger or the cargo we were hauling."
Jake was with them over a year till this one customer came up to him after a particularly hairy flight into Panama. Asked what experience Jake had and how much he loved his country. Jake thought he was a military recruiter, so he began to shut the older man down quick.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Hold on, kid. Uncle Sam isn't my boss, he's my client. I think you're just what my company is looking for in an employee, if you're up for a challenge."
Jake eyed the middle age man before him, now seeing a businessman and not a soldier. "So what would the job entail?"
The older man smiled. "Some training. You had mentioned a degree at Riddle, that's good. How good are you with a sidearm…?"
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"He said everything I was needing to hear. The job was dangerous, I'd get paid well enough and I'd get a ticket that would take me even further away from the life I failed at." Jake felt Heathers fingers squeeze his arm and looked down at them, clearing his throat.
"Going overseas, it was like nothing I had ever known. If the situation had been better, it would have been one of the most amazing experiences I had ever had. Everything seemed so different. The places I went, the cultures I was submerged in…" Jake looked up to Heather enough to give her a sad smile. "For a second, I was stupid enough to think that the people I met—worked with, were different too. Turns out, place and culture don't change human nature, just varies it. There's a word for bad and for criminal in every language."
Jake had ran small cargo planes at the beginning of his work with the company, and then drove truck when their teams stayed longer at their destination. He never asked what cargo he helped to hall and got shot at for—he'd learned that from his time with Jonah. But he figured it was drugs and arms. And whatever the dirty job they were employed for, Jake did and did well. First time, except for flying, he'd done anything well.
"Nearly two years in and I'd been throughout Iraq and spent much of my time in Afghanistan going back and forth through the middle east. By then they were using me for more ground work, gave me a section of guys in the larger crew. I was a vet to them, considering the large turn over of employees. Guys left real quick, got seriously injured real quick or got killed quick enough. The military was taking the worst of the pounding and the guys our company was hiring in were becoming less than satisfactory, but it was supply and demand." He'd met men from Ravenwood who had fit that classification well. It hadn't surprised him, when he found out Ravenwood had been the ones to do the killing in Rogue River or their actions since.
"But I can't talk; I was there for the money and adrenaline like the other half. It showed with my 'leadership' skills. I wasn't leading, just kept pulling our collective asses out of the fire."
Jakes last months in the company, they had picked up a large military contract in Baghdad, taking diplomats in and out of the city. It was a change from the import-export business.
"I had made a lot of local contacts in the city. Ahmad was one of our most trusted information peddlers. He was Sunni Tajik, wanted change, wanted peace, or whatever was passing for it in his country. He believed the US could help…" Jakes eyes moved to the window once more, keeping them on the moon. "He thought America could help 'fix' his home…" Jakes voice, now just a whisper, fell into silence.
"I liked him." Jake finally spoke again. Ahmad was a good man, good family man. He kind of reminded me of Granddad. Had this twinkle in his eyes, like he knew something or had something the rest of the world didn't. Whatever that thing was, made everything else bearable to him. I think that thing had been his family…" Jake trailed into silence, thinking of the old widower and his family of six children; five sons and a girl…
Jake fell silent again, he may well have been on the moon the way he stared at it now. Heather could feel him distancing himself from her by his far off stare and even further away voice, which gave away no hint of emotion. He was not in the room with her but far, far away. Heather braced herself and waited for Jake to continue.
"We were waiting for our transport back to the air strip with a group of local and US officials. Our transport was late, had to change route when fighting intensified on the southern end of the city…" The thing about waiting, it left time open for a situation to go wrong.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Fuck!" Jake spat irritably, before taking one last drag off his one last cigarette, then snuffing it out in the sand under his boot. 'Let's get this show on the road.'
Rapid gunfire echoed out over the eastern corner of the city, making the newbie beside him jump. Jake just shook his head and then eyed the surrounding buildings with the scope on the barrel on his riffle; only getting a view of vacant eyed windows and an unsettled feeling that they were not alone.
He'd told Ahmad about the buildings having eyes, earlier in the week, when the elder man had once again invited the American to his home on the outer edge of the city. The old man just gave him a wise smirk and nodded his head. They had just finished lunch with Ahmad's extended family and were now watching a couple of the younger children play ball in the back courtyard of the house. 'Shadows have eyes here, Jake Green.' He finally spoke. 'Make sure you do not blink.'
"You'll get use to the sound." He told the younger man with out looking away from the buildings on the other side of the square. 'Nothing out there but shadows, ghosts and rats?'
"Get use to it!" Freddie raised a questioning brow to his unaffected superior. "When's that gonna happen? Been here three months, man."
Jake just gave a grim smirk without taking his eyes off the streets in front of him, the sound of gunfire continuing to pepper the air several blocks away from their position. Jake had gotten use to the gunfire. May as well, it was as common place to him as birdsong back home. It was the sound of explosions that still made him hold his gun a bit tighter, made his head dip down and his feet move. The last mortar attack on his company had taken out seven of their men and twelve Afghan citizens. He still had nightmares about it.
"Green. Get the men ready to roll. Transport in five." Jake nodded to the communications officer and shouldered his weapon. He could visibly see his companion beside him breathe out in relief.
"We're getting out of Dodge, Freddie." Jake gave the man a half smile. "Not a moment too soon." Jakes eyes drifted back across the street as he stepped towards the square. Something in the shadows caught his eye once more. It was a small and moving quickly.
"Shoma?" Jake yelled in broken Farsi at the approaching form.
"Amal!" He heard Ahmad yell the name at the small figure and Jake realized it was the old mans daughter. "Amal stop!"
The roar of truck engines could now be heard coming through the neighborhood and the girl continued her walk to meet them out in the square. Amal was not there to see her father, but the men her oldest brother and uncle believed were taking honor away from their family by Ahmad working with them. She was told, by doing this—she would be saving her family and her beloved father from great ruin. She was a good, obedient girl.
Jake yelled the girls name, now recognizing her, as the first truck cleared the street corner into the square. She had turned to her father and then to Jake; he would remember those frightened brown eyes for the rest of his days.
Jake followed her wide eyed gaze to the center of her small body and felt his insides burst with a numbing cold, as he traced the outline of a bombers belt just under the young girl's robes. Jake watched her hand trail down to her side, as if in slow motion, and he felt his gun rise. With no hesitation, Jake made a choice…
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"Everyone hit the deck." Jake's voice was weak, a lifeless whisper that teared Heathers eyes as she kept her stunned silence. "None of it—what I had done, hit me till I saw Ahmad run into the square…"
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Quickly, the scene and the company's clients were secured, as Jake felt his feet move further into the square.
"She would not have done it!" Ahmad's voice rose in anguish as he cradled his daughter's lifeless body and rocked her in his arms. "I could have talked to her, my Amal." The old man's words trailed out into a howl of misery as he tore the belt off his daughters limp form and threw it into the gutter, not caring if it exploded on impact.
Jake took another step closer, but stopped when he could see the girl's lifeless face as her father lay her small body down to the bloody sand.
"You killed my girl!" The old man yelled as he stood from her.
"I had no choice…!" Jake screamed his only defense, dropping his weapon onto the street.
In that moment the old man charged down upon Jake, brandishing a knife, consumed in a fathers rage.
"Nooooo!" Jake screamed as another gun shot rang out through the square.
Ahmad stopped within a few feet of Jake, his eyes wide with surprise. His knife fell from his hand and before he could take another step, he fell dead in the street.
"He was gonna kill ya, Jake!"
But Jake didn't hear Freddie's scared and shaking voice, only his own stunned one. "No choice…" Jake fell to his knees in the sand. Time would pass after that day and he'd wish that Freddie had been a worse shot.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
A fragile silence fell over the hospital room. Heather took in a shaky breath that very well felt like her first in a long time. The things Jake had told her, frightened her mind to think on and assaulted her heart to feel. She watched his silhouette in the dim light of the room. He had yet to turn to her, but she could see the moons light pick up the unspent tears glistening in his eyes. And the arm that still lay under her grasp, now trembled. Before she could even begin to find words she knew weren't enough, his voice broke the silence once more.
"My superior called me a hero…" Jakes voice wavered, but did not break. 'Hero.' The word caught in his throat every time the title had been handed to him and the cruel irony was never lost on him these many months. But remembering Mrs. Sanchez and Stacey earlier in the evening, stopped him from gagging on the word now.
"I shot a child" Jakes voice rose, filled with self-loathing. "I killed her father—my friend… I may well have pulled the trigger." Jake lowered his head to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. What kind of hero—what kind of man does not hesitate to kill a child to save himself…?"
A deep sob escaped him, but he swallowed it down. Heather felt it crush her heart. That weight he'd carried with him since the day they met, that far off look in his eyes when he believed no one was watching him; he was trusting her and loving her enough to let her see those damaged pieces of him. But it was certain to her now, after hearing the self loathing and guilt in his voice, that Jake had not spared any of that love for himself.
Heather tentatively reached out her hand and placed it to the side of Jakes chin, guiding him to face her. She sucked in her own tears when his closed eyes opened to reveal all the pain and guilt that one man should not bear alone. The tears flowed freely now, from his soulful dark eyes and covered the plains of his cheeks. When Jake tried to pull from her view, the compassion in her eyes more than he could take; she took his face in both hands and brought herself closer to his side.
"I love you, Jake. We can get through this, too." It's all she had right then, but it seemed to pull a switch in Jake. Another sob broke from his chest and his arms went out around her and held onto her body for dear life. Heather quickly returned the embrace, only holding him tighter as he began to cry.
She held him long after his tears were gone and hers began. And as they both grew too tired to support the other, Heather silently crawled into the bed and continued to hold him, while sleep quickly found them both.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
When Jake opened his eyes again, he could feel it was still late. The light in the room had been turned off and the glow of the moon in the night sky was the only illumination. The last thing he remembered was falling apart in Heathers arms. Now looking down to the warm weight against his side, he watched her sleeping in his. It felt like the simplest of miracles. 'She's still here.'
Tracing the edge of her brows and down the line of her cheek with his eyes in the dim light, he tried to push away the anxiety that still ran rampant in his chest. She was still here and he believed her when she said she loved him, but the sun had yet to rise and Jake knew better than most, that everything looked different in the light of day…
Heather breathed in and felt her cheek brush against a foreign, but not at all unpleasant surface. A small part of her believed she would have been more self-conscious, even awkward, waking with her face nuzzled close against the bear chest she'd spent so many nights remembering in freshly showered flashback. But she did not. She was only sorry for the situation it had finally occurred.
"Hey."
"Hey." She returned and turned her face up to meet his. Jake tried on a smile for her that didn't quite fit and they both fell into a nervous silence.
'Was she changing her mind?' Jake felt his chest tighten in the misleading silence. 'Was she going to back away and…?'
"The night of your dad's wake, you said that saving Stacey on the school bus was the first thing you ever did right." Heather had bumped into Stacey and her mother tonight—or was it last night—in the clinics front parking lot. It was the night after the bombs she had been thinking of, just before she had entered Jake room moments later. She was thinking of how selfless Jake had been that night, how unconcerned he was for his own well being and how he had ended up a patient at the clinic then. Those thoughts had been seriously diverted by Jakes confession, but now, just pulling from sleep it was those thoughts that sprung back into her mind. They had changed some, knowing what she knew now, but it had also made many things more clear in regards to the complicated man at her side. "When you saved Stacey that night, it's when it all changed for you?"
Jake felt his mouth drop and found it hard to find words that his mouth and mind could agree on. He felt like she once again crawled inside of him and pulled out what he thought he hid from everyone else. But she wasn't everyone else. She was Heather.
For a moment she wasn't sure if he was going to answer, but then he cleared his throat…
"I swore I saw Amal and not Stacey, when she stopped breathing. Could even hear her father screaming in my head…" Jake raised his hand to his nose quickly and brought it away. "I—I just remember a voice telling me 'not again—this can't happen again' over and over till I started to help her…"
"You saved her, Jake…"
"No. Don't you see? She saved me!" Jake cleared his throat, his eyes shining with emotion. "When she opened her eyes and took in that first breath, I felt—I felt…" his mind rushed to find the words, but only found one. "…alive."
Heather propped herself on her elbow and placed her hand over Jakes heart. He jumped at the contact on his bare skin and looked down to her small hand. Quickly, he placed his hand over hers, holding it tight to his chest.
"It was like I was given a second chance to live, second chance to do right, to make a difference, make amends. I wanted Amal and her father's deaths mean something." Jake gripped the hand on his heart. "I never believed my life did, so I…"
"Began to put everyone else's safety ahead of yours?" Heather quickly interrupted. "Kept rushing off to save the day, with no regard to your own life?"
Jake nodded his head. "People just started depending on me, my family started believing in me and I realized I never wanted to let them down again. Whatever the cost, it didn't matter…" Jake paused. "I was fine with that cost being my life." Jakes eyes now leveled with Heathers and she felt a chill go down her spine.
"It wasn't till after I fell in love with you" Jake searched Heathers wide eyes and held her hand tighter. "It wasn't till after I had realized what you meant to me, did I find a reason to at least look before I leapt into the next big emergency." A wistful look embraced his features. "I wanted better odds that I could make it back to you in one piece."
Slowly, Heather moved against Jake's body and brought her lips up to meet his own, their hands still joined on his chest. The kiss was gentle, warm. It spoke of tenderness, acceptance and most importantly love. When they parted, Jake's eyes didn't immediately open.
"Why are you still here?" Jake opened his eyes and found Heathers, a small smile in their blue depths.
"Why did you tell me your past?" She gave as answer, her voice matter-of-fact.
It wasn't the first time they had answered questions this way. The first time was on Jake's back porch, after his fathers wake. They had sat under the stars that night, giving bits of truth about themselves, answering difficult questions the other had posed. Tonight, the answers to their questions would be simple, as they were the same. The answer was love.
TBC