Hello friends. I'm very rusty you will have to forgive me. Also, this is not fluffy! Angst ahead.

I don't own JN.

It's 3 in the morning, and she's in the kitchen sipping a cup of tea that had long gone cold. The house is still and dark. The silence echoes louder than the noise and bustle of the city.

Perhaps visiting her father's house the weekend that Jimmy was getting all his Nobel Peace Prizes had not been the best idea. She'd never liked this place when in high school because it meant being away from her friends and boyfriend, which was why she had chosen it now. Yet, even being hundreds of miles from the watch party that her friends were hosting, it wasn't enough.

Because it didn't matter how many times she reminded herself that their split was mutual. Or how it was the best choice they could have made for their futures. Her traitorous heart would still catch in her throat when she'd see a news article or interview with him. Then she would turn away or distract herself so she wouldn't feel and wouldn't remember.

Tonight there is no distraction and no running, so for the first time in a long while, she greets her memories like an old friend.

All of the adventures he'd made possible. The good and the bad ones. The way he annoyed and intrigued her. How his blue eyes always gleamed with excitement as he explained his latest invention. Feeling the calluses on his fingertips press against her knuckles as she joined their hands. His kisses that she could never get enough of. Sitting with him on a bench in the park at twilight, discussing theories and debating with each other. How he cradled her in his arms after her parent's divorce and told her she would be okay.

She had been so in love with him. Yet, she'd let him slip out of her life. Now only these damned memories remain.

Tears start to fall from her eyes, and she swears that she can hear her chest breaking open as it all pours out like a flood from her heart. She cries until her shoulders are shaking; her sobs growing louder and louder until there is no noise at all.

Tomorrow she'd go back to her life as if this night had never happened.

But it would always be there.

The crack in her foundation.

The scar tissue that never fully healed because he would never leave her.

James Isaac Neutron, the first person to win the Nobel Peace Prize in bulk, was the ghost that would haunt her forever.