Disclaimer: *holds chibi Ash doll in her lap and stares blankly at the keyboard*
A/N: I put a note up forever ago that unless you all stopped harassing me about this thing, I'd kill it. Well, it's not dead. I don't intend to. And I know that it's been over 3 months since I've updated, but I've developed a life. Fuck you if you don't like that. Just deal with the fact that I have things actually more important than writing a fanfic. So don't just make a 'review' telling me to update. I ignore those, and am actually going to go back and start deleteing them.
Sorry, had to do that. It's been grating on my nerves for a looooong while. *deep cleansing breath* But yeah! I'm updating. For those who have been going to my site, you'll have been seeing the "look for chapters in late june" notices. Well, I'm giving you chapters now. *waves little flag* So yeah. Just remember that Jack belongs to me. Well, the character anyhoo.
*******************************************
Petrified Tears
chapter 84
It had hurt so much when she had left.
He had held her in his arms so tightly he had been afraid of breaking her, had buried his nose into the crook of her neck, his shoulders stooped and his knees bent so that he could do it. She'd never admit that she was crying as they had stood in the living room, her arms clinging to him, one hand lost in his hair, holding his head to her shoulder, the other arm draped tightly across his back, and he'd never admit that his tears were staining her hair, that as he embraced her, he crushed his glasses in his fist. But they had both been crying. She in her own silent way, too proud to let others see her tears, he in his own silent way, his tears slipping away unnoticed.
He had thought that when he found her again, when she came back to him, or when he went to her, he'd be able to hold her like that. Not that he wanted her to fly into his arms, or that he wanted to walk up to her and hold her so intimately in front of everyone who was there, but he had entertained the thought, holding it dear in his heart. He had wanted to be able to see her again, let her bounce up to him in that way she'd always had and would hopefully never lose, throwing an arm over his shoulders in a friendly attack and throw him off balance, her eyes sparkling as she cried his name and said hello. And then he had wanted to be able to find her where no one else could, and just hold her, hold her and know that she loved him as much as he loved her, as he had held her and he had known that day they had said good-bye.
But as she had come down the stairs, laughing and smiling, radiant with a shimmer he had thought he had been the only one to have ever seen, holding the arm of Mr. Wonderful, he had known it wasn't going to happen. Her eyes hadn't sparkled when she'd cried his name upon seeing him, her face had broken into terror and pain rather than happiness and surprise. She hadn't bounced, she had stiffened.
And she hadn't made him feel loved. She had made him feel downright worthless and unwanted; not only lying to him about what she had been doing that night, but about her engagement to Mr. Wonderful as well.
He raised his eyes, meeting two pairs of blue across from him. One pair was shielded-professional and yet guarded as if he were protecting himself or someone else from his own emotions. The other pair was dark, almost dead, and dry.
Jack felt his jaw tighten yet said nothing, looking back down at his untouched plate before pushing it away and shifting in his chair, lifting his hips and pulling his cards from his pocket.
"Jack," his grandfather started, but then sighed and let it go, looking down at his own plate and then back at the wine glass he cupped in his fingers, swirling the white wine within.
He pulled the worn red cards from their mutilated box, shoving the jokers back inside, and shuffled, the steady rhythm of the bridge soothing some part of him deep inside where words and fingers couldn't touch. Out of the corner of his eye-his good eye, his bad eye forced to struggle through without his glasses-he saw Pan shiver in time with the cards. If he didn't know better, the cadence of the bridge was upsetting her.
Good.
Mr. Wonderful cleared his throat, glancing over at Pan as she gripped the skirt of her dress with both hands under the table. He set his hands over hers and looked at his grandfather.
"Mr. Summers, I…we have a bit of a confession to make." Mr. Wonderful hesitated and his eyes turned back to Pan's. She lifted her eyes for the first time since dinner had started, looking first into the cobalt blue eyes of Mr. Wonderful, then past into his own steel grey eyes. He met her gaze briefly before looking down at the cards as he bridged.
He didn't wait for Mr. Wonderful to continue. Quietly, he set his deck on the table, pushing away his chair as he muttered some excuse and left them.
And then he left the room.
He heard Pan draw in a breath to call him back, but he also heard the catch that held her back. The catch that knew him and that knew that he needed nothing to do with her.
He went onto one of the balconies of the restaurant, leaning against the casing with his back to the room and his arms folded across his chest. Crossing his legs at the ankle he put all of his weight against the shoulder propping him up. His eyes gazed out over the gardens below the balcony, past them to the lights of the city.
The city was beautiful, he wouldn't deny that. She had told him a thousand times and he had believed her every time. But no matter how many times she had told him he was wrong, she could never convince him that she wasn't.
He sighed reached into his pocket and pulled his glasses out, holding them gingerly with his fingertips, turning them over in his hands as he studied the broken lenses. He had crushed his glasses that day, when she had left him alone in a world of people who hardly understood him and who he couldn't talk to.
He had crushed them again only hours ago.
With the same emotion as the first time.
He sighed and clutched them in his fist, pushing his other hand into his pocket, and gazed out over the city once more.
*************************************
A/N: Hmm...a little character insight here? Maybe? Who knows. And wtf was up with that little 'she loved him as much as he loved her' comment? Hmm. I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out.
-Panabelle ;P
www.angelfire.com/dbz/storytellers