Talk to Angels
Disclaimer: Joan of Arcadia and its characters belong to Barbara Hall and CBS. I'm only borrowing.
Rating: PG13
Summary- Joan takes a minute and thinks about everything that happened between her and Adam after "The Devil Made Me Do It" and what she can do about it. Joan's POV
Authors Note: I'm looking for a beta to check grammar and such. If you can help me out please let me know my email is down below. (
Feedback- Constructive critism always welcomed but if you want to be nasty, save us both the time and keep it to yourself
Email: Wine_into_water@hotmail.com.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's hasn't been the same since that day and I doubt it ever will be. If only I hadn't stopped myself from telling Adam the truth that night at the bookstore maybe he'd understand it now. But really how can I expect him to understand it when I still don't?
I probably can't blame any part of this mess on anybody else but me anyway. Looking back on it I know I took him for granted. Maybe that's why I had to do this, is this the big picture? I mean like a few weeks ago I should have known about his mother way before Rocky and I went to the graveyard but I didn't take the time to notice did I? When he mentioned he didn't like November I should have asked about it, Grace did. But what did I do? I went rambling on about how I hated February and I don't even have a good reason to hate February except for the fact I never have a date for Valentines Day. Then how insensitive was I that day in AP chem.? "You can't know dead people" I was such a bitch! But you know what? Adam, he still gave me a second chance. I was catty and snotty and the worst friend in the world and even after all that I was still Jane.
I think that's what hurts the most. What made this mess crystal clear. Yeah believe me I knew I messed up the second I turned around and saw him staring at me with those big sad eyes of his. But really what was I going to do? I had no other choice. I didn't have time to talk to him about it or go to somebody else. If I had only trusted God when he said to keep him from entering. You'd think he would have came to me in some form that I knew, but nooo be different so I had to doubt him. Ok I know I should have had faith but I really couldn't see why Adam couldn't enter. He's good really good, but now I see the whole picture, a little too late I may add. So for once I'll concentrate on the little things God says and ask myself what do I do know?
Well so far I've managed to figure out, not a hell of a lot. Ooops, sorry if you're listening or mind reading or whatever.
It's been weeks and Adam still won't talk to me. Oh sure a few words here and there like "Joan pass the beaker". "Joan," he's calling me Joan now. You'd think that would be great right? Like how many times have I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and scream, "My name is Joan!" But the first time I heard him say Joan it stung harder then I ever thought possible, but it did. I shouldn't care that I'm not Jane but I do because see I was Jane, Nobody else. That was something that was just mine. I've never really had that before. At home everybody is so busy worrying about Kevin or dads work that unless I build a boat or totally smash my best friends award-winning art I go unnoticed. And at school I'm like the captain of the sub- defectives. Well actually even they don't have much use for me anymore. Grace is still ticked about the taking the test over and ruining her big revolution. And Adam well we know where I stand there don't we? The point is I didn't feel all that special at home or at school. I'm 16. Even God talking to me really isn't that big of a deal. But with Adam, I was Jane and I never knew what that meant until now. I was special enough to be called Jane. For whatever reason he calls me that he thought I was special enough to have a pet name. And it isn't that he forgets my name is Joan like I had thought, because now I know all to well that he knows my real name. So I'm back at square one. What do I do now?
Well I figure I'll do the same as I do every night and sit here on this bench across the street of the Rove house and watch as Adams sculptures catch the light of the moon and street lamps and make them even more beautiful and I'll sit here and think of how I can make myself walk across the street in to Adam's garage and beg and plead with him to be my friend again. To listen and understand why I did it without telling him anything that would make any sense what so ever.
Then when I think I've figured out the perfect words, the ones that will make him understand everything I did. Make him forgive me and forget this whole thing ever happened. The words that will insure that I'm "Jane" again. I'll cross the street and take a couple of steps on the grass, and then I'll stop. I'll look around and notice how there are no lights on in his workshop, how the sculptures on the lawn are getting dingy and uncared for, that there are no new ones up. I'll realize that I'm the reason for it, me and only me and nothing I'll ever say or do will get my best friend back worst yet it may not get Adam's inspiration back. He may never make another piece of art and I'll start to cry. I'll take a couple of steps back until I'm back on the sidewalk. I'll whisper "I'm sorry" then I'll take off running for home. All the way asking *him* to just give Adam back his gift, his inspiration, because I would if I could. I'd give up Adam forever if I had to. I'd give up ever being Jane again if I only knew Adam could still talk to angels.
Disclaimer: Joan of Arcadia and its characters belong to Barbara Hall and CBS. I'm only borrowing.
Rating: PG13
Summary- Joan takes a minute and thinks about everything that happened between her and Adam after "The Devil Made Me Do It" and what she can do about it. Joan's POV
Authors Note: I'm looking for a beta to check grammar and such. If you can help me out please let me know my email is down below. (
Feedback- Constructive critism always welcomed but if you want to be nasty, save us both the time and keep it to yourself
Email: Wine_into_water@hotmail.com.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It's hasn't been the same since that day and I doubt it ever will be. If only I hadn't stopped myself from telling Adam the truth that night at the bookstore maybe he'd understand it now. But really how can I expect him to understand it when I still don't?
I probably can't blame any part of this mess on anybody else but me anyway. Looking back on it I know I took him for granted. Maybe that's why I had to do this, is this the big picture? I mean like a few weeks ago I should have known about his mother way before Rocky and I went to the graveyard but I didn't take the time to notice did I? When he mentioned he didn't like November I should have asked about it, Grace did. But what did I do? I went rambling on about how I hated February and I don't even have a good reason to hate February except for the fact I never have a date for Valentines Day. Then how insensitive was I that day in AP chem.? "You can't know dead people" I was such a bitch! But you know what? Adam, he still gave me a second chance. I was catty and snotty and the worst friend in the world and even after all that I was still Jane.
I think that's what hurts the most. What made this mess crystal clear. Yeah believe me I knew I messed up the second I turned around and saw him staring at me with those big sad eyes of his. But really what was I going to do? I had no other choice. I didn't have time to talk to him about it or go to somebody else. If I had only trusted God when he said to keep him from entering. You'd think he would have came to me in some form that I knew, but nooo be different so I had to doubt him. Ok I know I should have had faith but I really couldn't see why Adam couldn't enter. He's good really good, but now I see the whole picture, a little too late I may add. So for once I'll concentrate on the little things God says and ask myself what do I do know?
Well so far I've managed to figure out, not a hell of a lot. Ooops, sorry if you're listening or mind reading or whatever.
It's been weeks and Adam still won't talk to me. Oh sure a few words here and there like "Joan pass the beaker". "Joan," he's calling me Joan now. You'd think that would be great right? Like how many times have I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and scream, "My name is Joan!" But the first time I heard him say Joan it stung harder then I ever thought possible, but it did. I shouldn't care that I'm not Jane but I do because see I was Jane, Nobody else. That was something that was just mine. I've never really had that before. At home everybody is so busy worrying about Kevin or dads work that unless I build a boat or totally smash my best friends award-winning art I go unnoticed. And at school I'm like the captain of the sub- defectives. Well actually even they don't have much use for me anymore. Grace is still ticked about the taking the test over and ruining her big revolution. And Adam well we know where I stand there don't we? The point is I didn't feel all that special at home or at school. I'm 16. Even God talking to me really isn't that big of a deal. But with Adam, I was Jane and I never knew what that meant until now. I was special enough to be called Jane. For whatever reason he calls me that he thought I was special enough to have a pet name. And it isn't that he forgets my name is Joan like I had thought, because now I know all to well that he knows my real name. So I'm back at square one. What do I do now?
Well I figure I'll do the same as I do every night and sit here on this bench across the street of the Rove house and watch as Adams sculptures catch the light of the moon and street lamps and make them even more beautiful and I'll sit here and think of how I can make myself walk across the street in to Adam's garage and beg and plead with him to be my friend again. To listen and understand why I did it without telling him anything that would make any sense what so ever.
Then when I think I've figured out the perfect words, the ones that will make him understand everything I did. Make him forgive me and forget this whole thing ever happened. The words that will insure that I'm "Jane" again. I'll cross the street and take a couple of steps on the grass, and then I'll stop. I'll look around and notice how there are no lights on in his workshop, how the sculptures on the lawn are getting dingy and uncared for, that there are no new ones up. I'll realize that I'm the reason for it, me and only me and nothing I'll ever say or do will get my best friend back worst yet it may not get Adam's inspiration back. He may never make another piece of art and I'll start to cry. I'll take a couple of steps back until I'm back on the sidewalk. I'll whisper "I'm sorry" then I'll take off running for home. All the way asking *him* to just give Adam back his gift, his inspiration, because I would if I could. I'd give up Adam forever if I had to. I'd give up ever being Jane again if I only knew Adam could still talk to angels.