He sat in the dark room listening to the light swishing sound of the respirator, the machine that was breathing for the woman he'd once promised to love and cherish until he died. He was still alive and hadn't fulfilled that promise, had failed her as a lover, husband and friend and her life, for all intents and purposes was over, the machine the only thing keeping her alive. The bullet had done the damage it needed to do, her brain barely functioning by the time the ambulance arrived with her, him in the back the entire way, holding onto her hand. His blood-stained clothes had since been replaced with the familiar blue hospital scrubs, but all the washing and scrubbing in the world would never remove her blood from his hands.
He wasn't fully responsible for the death of his ex-wife, but he played a role in it even though he knew many would attempt to convince him otherwise. So he sat in the dark room, holding her hand and listening to the machine, waiting for the hospital to track down a relative who could sign the document that would allow the machine to be turned off, a final act of mercy that his status as her ex-husband kept him from doing for her. Her body was deteriorating fast though, organs quickly failing, the first bullet she'd inflicted upon herself going through the chest cavity and ricocheting off muscle and bones, doing damage that could've been repaired if he could've gotten to her before she put the next bullet into her skull, not killing her instantly, but doing irreparable damage. Nature would most likely intervene long before a family member would so he stayed, refusing to leave her to die alone.
He never heard him enter the room, but felt the familiar touch grip his shoulder from behind. He sighed heavily, refusing to turn around, refusing to allow him to see him weak and vulnerable even though a shoulder to cry on was exactly what he needed. He gripped Sarah's hand a little tighter and swallowed the large, aching, nearly suffocating lump in his throat.
"Who told you?" Jack asked.
"Kate called and told us what happened." Christian said.
"So what, you came down here to lecture me on how pathetic I am for feeling responsible?" Jack snapped.
Christian let the angry words roll off of him, knowing his son very well and knowing that he would be sitting by her bedside blaming himself and understanding why he would.
"No, I just came to be with you." Christian replied feeling Jack's body jerk involuntarily underneath his grip.
There were no hugs, no comfort other than the reassuring hand maintaining his grip, no words of wisdom or disdain, just a father allowing his son to breakdown and hurt without passing judgment or suggesting it was a sign of weakness. Christian knew all too well what it meant to lose someone you love and feel responsible for the loss because 30 years ago he realistically lost all three of his children even though one had survived and had grown into more than he could've dreamed or hoped for.
"This isn't the first time I've killed somebody is it dad?" Jack asked his voice cracking and almost childlike.
"You didn't kill Sarah son, you've never killed anyone." Christian insisted.
"You're lying to me. Why are you lying to me? I haven't told anyone but, I've seen flashes, horrible flashes of blood, sirens, a mangled body and your hand holding mine, even though I'm just a boy, I know it's your hand and I can remember names as if they were a normal part of my life. I need you to tell me what I did before I lose my mind dad." Jack begged.
The machine monitoring Sarah's heart flat-lined and began beeping before Christian had a chance to respond. He let go of Jack's shoulder, walked to the other side of the bed and shut the monitor off. Jack stood, still holding her hand while his other hand gently cupped one side of her face. He leaned in and kissed her softly, tears streaming down his face.
"I'm so sorry Sarah. I never wanted to hurt you, I swear, if I had known………." Jack spoke stopping just short of finishing the sentence.
"Don't go there son, don't suggest for one second that you would've let Kate go and stayed in a miserable relationship if you'd known she was going to kill herself." Christian warned.
Jack looked up at his father, his eyes red and swollen, his face tear streaked, so beaten and nearly broken Christian would've given anything to be able to switch places with him.
"I need to know dad, please, I have to know what I did." Jack pleaded with him.
Christian looked into his eyes, the torment and confusion evident and he knew it would be cruel to deny his request.
"Fine, let's go for a ride and I'll help you put the pieces of the puzzle together." Christian offered.
Jack didn't want to go for a ride, didn't want to play a game, he just wanted to know, but he was tired, too tired to argue so he followed his father out of the hospital and into his car. They drove in silence for nearly an hour, pulling into a cemetery and following the path for awhile before the car came to stop. Christian grabbed a flashlight and opened his car door. Jack opened his door and followed him. It appeared to be a family plot, a plot he didn't know existed, but the large piece of granite with the name Shephard on it a clear indication that it was a family plot. Christian sat on the granite bench that was part of the plot and waited for Jack to join him. Jack dropped his body down onto the bench, dropping his head and running his hands through his hair in frustration.
"Why are we here?" Jack asked.
"Jack, do you remember me taking you to school your first day of Kindergarten or is that just something you've always agreed that what I was telling you was the truth? Think hard son and tell me if you really remember that day." Christian said.
"What does….." Jack started to argue.
"Just answer the question Jack." Christian said.
Jack thought for a moment, searched his memory for images of the day his father always joked about as being the day he realized how stubborn and independent his son was and he could see flashes his father's hand holding his, looking across and noticing his father held the hand of another boy, a smaller one and suddenly jerked backward, frightened, but not sure why.
"You really are getting your memories back. You remember don't you? You're younger brother was with us and you were stubbornly trying to tug away from me." Christian coaxed.
"Aidan." Jack said softly.
"That's right, he was two years younger than you and your constant shadow, but you never seemed to mind, always kind and patient with him and a big help to your mom with me being gone so much." Christian told him in sad, regretful tone.
"Isabelle was the baby." Jack blurted out startling himself.
"Yes, she was our youngest and you would've thought she belonged to you." Christian said with a light laugh, the memory sad, but happy at the same time.
"What's happening to me dad? Why are all these bits and pieces of names and people suddenly in my head?" Jack asked.
Christian turned on the flashlight and let it shine on the two small headstones in front of them. Jack studied them, two young children, a girl less than one and a boy who was a few days shy of his sixth birthday, both died on the same day. Isabelle and Aidan Shephard, siblings he never knew existed.
"What happened to them and why now, why am I remembering them now?" Jack asked.
"Son, sometimes it really is best to let things go and this was one of those things. I think the birth of your son triggered the memories." Christian said.
"What does Jack have to do with any of this?" Jack asked.
"Isabelle was born with a heart condition, a heart condition that today wouldn't be as life threatening, but back then it was very serious and a matter of getting her to the point where she would be strong enough for the surgery she needed. You were so protective of her from the day we brought her home and she would do things for you that your mother and I couldn't get her to do. You can see she was still just a baby when we lost her and it was her death that led to the tragedy that took your brother's life and I think the baby coming into your life and you drawing on those feelings of protectiveness was the key to unlocking the memories that were so awful you blocked them out." Christian explained.
"What happened?" Jack asked.
"You can't remember? I think you can Jack, I think you're afraid to and it's understandable because when you do remember it's going to hurt and you're going to blame yourself for what was a terrible accident and nothing more." Christian explained.
"Tell me!" Jack demanded.
"No Jack, you tell me. You'd had the flu and we had kept you away from Isabelle, but she managed to catch it anyway. She was too weak to fight it. I had to come home from the hospital and tell you that she didn't make it. Do you remember that Jack?" Christian spoke slowly.
Jack sat quietly, allowing his father's words to sink in, remembering a small, frail baby with dark hair and big eyes that was always happy to have his attention and he smiled for a moment before flashes of screams, blood and pain filled his head and he attempted to get up, to shake it free, make it go away and Christian pushed him back down.
"Don't run from it Jack." Christian told him.
He was sweating and shaking as the memories came flooding back. A young boy devastated with grief and angry, so angry he went out to the garage, his younger brother in tow, jumped on the mini-bike his parents had bought him for his 8th birthday and took off before his distraught parents could stop him. Aidan, always his brother's shadow, had jumped on behind him, his small arms wrapped confidently around his older brother's waist, unafraid and unaware of the tragedy that had just befell his family, just thinking he and the brother he admired were going for a fun ride.
He took the mini-bike out onto the main road, disregarding all the rules that had been put in place, too sad and angry to care about the punishment that would result, unaware that the consequences for his reckless behavior would be life altering. He didn't notice the parked car until the last second, panicked and lost control, the bike laying down, but not before crashing hard into the sharp bumper of the parked car, finding himself pinned underneath the bike underneath the car, his brother's nearly severed head laying on his chest, so much blood it was impossible to determine where it all was coming from and the pain, the pain was excruciating.
Jack began sobbing as the vivid memories of that day came flooding back, remembering not only the horrific accident that had taken his brother's life, but also remembering his brother, his voice, his smell, his curiousness and how he was the exact opposite of Jack who was calm, mature for his age and wise beyond his years. He began remembering the trust and admiration his younger brother bestowed upon him and his final screams as the bike slammed into the parked car, the next vivid recollection was the dead eyes looking back at him as his father's arm and hand reached in and held onto his trembling hand, attempting to comfort him while he begged for his father get it off of him, the dead head barely connected to the body staring back at him traumatizing and too much for an eight year old boy to deal with.
"Oh god, I killed him. He trusted me, trusted me to keep him safe and I killed him." Jack sobbed.
"It was an accident Jack, a terrible accident." Christian insisted.
"What happened? Why don't I remember anything else before waking up?" Jack asked.
"You had a pretty serious head injury Jack. You lost consciousness before help arrived to get out from under the car. When you woke up with no memories of the accident or the existence of Aidan and Isabelle, your mother and I decided it was best to just leave it alone." Christian explained.
"Mom, this is why she hates me." Jack stated.
"She doesn't hate you and doesn't blame you, but try to imagine what losing two of your children would do to a person. Your mother just shut down, became so afraid of the pain of losing the only child she had left that she just disconnected." Christian said.
"Did he suffer?" Jack asked.
"Did who suffer?" Christian asked.
"Aidan. Did it hurt or was it instant?" Jack asked.
"Jack, don't do this." Christian said.
"No, I want to know." Jack said.
"There's no way of knowing for sure. Come on son, you're a doctor, you know that. He was dead by the time I got to you and I saw it happen so any pain that might've been involved was very quick." Christian said.
"Why would you do this dad? Why would you let me grow up missing such a crucial piece of information?" Jack asked his tone accusing.
"We did what we thought was best for you Jack." Christian insisted.
"Best for me or best for you? I mean, talking to me about it would've meant acknowledging you still had a son, but then instead of just growing up alone with a nanny I would've had to grow up knowing why my parents couldn't stand the sight of me." Jack spat angrily.
"That's not true Jack." Christian argued, but not very convincingly.
"No dad it is and that would've been understandable and something that could've been worked through eventually with some honesty, but because it was never dealt with we have this giant barrier that prevents any kind of relationship from existing." Jack said sadly and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Christian asked.
"Take me back to Sarah's house so I can get my car." Jack said.
They drove in silence to Sarah's home. Christian pulled the car into the driveway and looked at Jack. He started to speak, but stopped when Jack put his hand up.
"I can't do this dad. I need some time to process all of this." Jack said.
The house was dark and quiet when Jack finally arrived home. It was late and he was doing his best to stay quiet and not wake Kate or the baby. He entered the nursery and stared down at his sleeping son, his perfect, beautiful little boy. His day had been as violent, disgusting and disturbing as a day could be and it seemed odd to him that in that moment something so completely innocent and wonderful lay peacefully in front of him.
He didn't hear her enter the room and jumped a little when he felt her arms snake around him from behind. He took hold of her hands and led her around until she stood in front of him, pulling her in close for a hug and showing no desire to let go of her any time soon. She lay her head on his chest and held tightly to him, knowing that there were no words she could offer and hoped that just being there for him would provide some comfort.
"I'm sorry I was gone so long. I sat with her until she died and then my father took me on a trip down memory lane." He said softly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.
"No, not now." He answered.
"Okay, I'm going to go back to bed. Are you coming?" She asked.
"Yeah, I'll be there, I just want to stay here for a little while longer." He said, hugging her once more and then kissing her softly.
Kate woke the next morning, startled that the baby hadn't woken her during the night. She noticed that Jack's side of the bed hadn't been slept on and relaxed, realizing that he had taken care of the 4 AM feeding. She climbed out of bed and made her way down the hallway to the nursery, finding it empty. She went to the kitchen, put some coffee on and headed toward the family room, finding Jack sound asleep on the couch with Jack junior on his chest. The baby was wide awake, the large protective arm draped over him keeping him from going anywhere and not seeming to mind, just content to lie on his father's chest as if he could sense his father needed him to be there. Kate gently picked up the baby, covered Jack with the throw and left him to hopefully sleep and rest.
She hadn't told Jack that his father had called her, warning her that he was trying to absorb some very painful information and to be patient with him. She sat in the kitchen with the baby, the most precious thing in her life and thought back to the night she'd met the lonely gorgeous man in the hotel bar. She was in so much emotional pain then and even though he apparently was too he had managed to see right through her act and eventually bring her around. She couldn't remember what her life was like before Jack and the baby and if she had a wish for Jack, it would be for him to some day be able to make the same claim, that all the things that hurt him would finally be put to rest and that he too would eventually be wondering what he did with himself before she and the baby had come into his life.
Jack slept most of the day away and she let him, having gone along with Christian's request and turned off his phone and pager, leaving him on the couch in the cool, darkened room, surprised that he had slept as much as he had. What was more surprising to her though was how he didn't object to her pampering and babying him, allowing her to wait on him hand and foot, run him a hot bath and pamper him some more and then take him to bed where the pampering reached a level that made him come so hard she was sure he released a life time of tension all over her and then he found sleep again quickly. It worried her, but Christian had warned her that he was in shock and would be behaving differently until he snapped out of it and he was of course right. Jack had returned to what she considered normal for Jack within a couple of days.
Jack eventually shared the story of Aidan and Isabelle with Kate and she could tell the anger and contempt he felt toward not only himself, but his parents for allowing him to grow up without knowing about it was going to erupt eventually and that it most likely wouldn't be pleasant. He stopped talking to his father unless it was work related and wouldn't let them see their grandson.
With the exception of their sex life, his behavior around her and the baby was as it had always been. They still made love just about every day sometimes more than once, but he shied away from the frenzied, raw and often out of control fucking that they both used to enjoy. He seemed to want to coddle, protect and always be sweet and gentle with her, which was nothing any sane woman would complain about, but she was concerned that he wasn't okay, that he was feeling afraid and needing to just love her and be loved back and it was becoming almost dry and routine to her.
Watching Sarah shoot herself and learning about the tragedy and refusing to talk to his parents was affecting him emotionally, how could it not, but she couldn't get him to admit that. He would get mad and they would fight if she suggested he talk to someone and then he'd beg her to forgive him and make love to her in an almost desperate fashion, tonight being no exception.
They'd fought over Jack refusing to acknowledge his mother's birthday and he'd gotten in her face and reminded her that they weren't married yet so what he did with his family was none of her fucking business. For some reason it hurt more than it should've and she cried and he immediately felt awful and here they were, in their bed, him inside of her slowly thrusting in and out, whispering his love for her as he continued on. She couldn't stand it any longer and began pushing at his chest.
"Stop Jack, please, get off." She insisted.
He stopped, propping himself up on his elbows, looking into her eyes with soft, almost sad questioning eyes.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"Nothing, I'm just not in the mood for this. Pull out and I'll take care of you." She told him.
"I can take care of myself Kate." He told her unable to hide the hurt.
He pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, sighing heavily and letting his folded arm rest above his head. She sat up and let her hand glide gently over his chest.
"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings Jack, but I can't lay her and pretend to enjoy it anymore." She complained.
"I didn't realize I was so bad you were pretending." He huffed.
"Stop it Jack, you know what I'm talking about. God, it feels like you're fucking me because you feel obligated to do so." She spat angrily.
"What do you want from me Kate? Do you want me to be rough, fuck you until it hurts and keep going anyway, maybe you'd like it more if I left bruises or made you bleed?" He spat back.
"At least I'd feel like I still excite you, like you want me so bad you can't control yourself, like I'm not just the woman you have to go home to and fuck because that's what you're supposed to do. Should I hand you a tube of lube next time so you'll feel more at home?" She asked wishing she could take the last part back as soon as she said it.
He started to move of the bed and she immediately straddled him, pinning his arms to the mattress and squeezing his sides with her legs as hard as she could.
"I'm sorry, that was horrible, but damn you Jack, you're hurting and you're keeping it all inside and it's not good for you. If you won't talk to a professional then talk to me. I love you and there isn't anything you can't share with me and I'm not letting you up until you spill." She demanded.
"Fine Kate, you want to be fucked hard, get on your hands and knees and I'll treat you like a whore, do I get extra points if I hurt you, huh is that what you want? Maybe we can plan a wedding and I can fuck your bridesmaid in the bathroom while you watch, would that get the job done Kate?" He replied with so much anger and nastiness she should've been repulsed and backed away immediately, but she wasn't going to give into it.
"That's right Jack, show me some passion, show me you give a damn." She taunted.
"Get off of me Kate." He ordered.
"What's the matter Jack? Can't get hard for a woman that really wants you? Does your dick only work if you're being led around by it or is it because your ex-wife and your parents have your balls?" Kate pushed seeing the anger in his eyes and wondering if she was taking it too far.
Jack quickly removed himself and her from the bed in one quick movement, his strength overpowering her and any attempt she made to fight him off, not that she was fighting him, she'd finally ignited his flame and wasn't about to try to put it out. He slammed her back against the wall and drove his now very hard cock into her with as much velocity as he could muster, making her gasp and wrap her legs around his waist tightly as he continued to thrust upward violently, sensing that she was about to come and pulling back and out of her, setting her down and placing his hands on the wall on either side of her, trapping her in the space between them.
"You don't get to come, not yet." He growled, his eyes a mixture of excitement and insanity, the sight of it making her wetter and she wondered if maybe it was her that had a problem.
He moved off the wall and led her back over to the bed.
"Lay down on your stomach." He demanded.
She did as he said and felt him hovering over her immediately. She pushed her bottom up in the air and he swatted it hard, surprising her and making her cry out, a little more painful than anything he'd done to her before.
"Stay down and be quiet, you'll wake the baby." He ordered.
He turned her over, spread her legs as far apart as he could and drove himself into her again, pushing her knees back and sinking deeper and deeper. He pounded into her hard and quick and once again pulled out before she managed to get over the edge, frustrating her and making her wonder if she'd pushed him too hard, if he really did hate her and wanted nothing more than to hurt her until she felt as bad as she'd made him feel.
He looked down at her, saw the doubt coupled with a trace of fear in her eyes, the beginning of a tear starting and he sat back on his folded legs, pulling her up and into his lap, allowing her to connect with him on her terms this time, wrapping his arms around her and holding her while he pushed into her hard and deep.
"I would kill myself before I would ever intentionally hurt you Kate. You're my whole life." He told her and continued thrusting into her, feeling her walls begin to contract around him again and allowing her to spill over the edge, joining her, coming hard and feeling his emotions bubbling to the surface right along with his semen.
She held tightly to him, his penis buried deep inside of her while the trauma of that horrible night came pouring out of him, the guilt he felt over Sarah coupled with the guilt he felt over having learned he killed his younger brother had been consuming him. The anger and betrayal he felt about his parents hurting him on a level most of us don't know exists within us and she cried for him, cried for his pain and suffering, but mostly cried for them, for getting over this hump, for finally becoming someone he could tell his deepest, darkest secrets too without fear of ever losing her love or respect.
They stayed that way until the muscles in their bodies began to protest the pretzel like position they were in. She moved off of him and they met in the center of the bed, snuggled together the way they liked to be, wondering what kind of fucked up fight they'd just had, but feeling as though the outcome was positive.
"I want to get married on New Year's Eve Jack, on the same boat where you proposed." Kate said.
"You still want to marry me after that?" He asked.
"I want to marry you more than ever after that." She told him.
"Kate, I'm……." He started but was cut off by her.
"Don't Jack, because I'm not sorry. I only regret I went to such an awful place to get us where we needed to be. Let's promise each other that we won't do that to each other again, that we won't use painful moments from our past as weapons to hurt one another with." She said.
"I promise and Kate………thank you." He said softly as they both began drifting off to sleep.