Take a Chance on Me - Chapter 11
**Warning: It's not as bad as you think.
***
Rayne bolted out of Sara's house running as fast as she could, shock and disbelief clouding her brain.
Finally, her heart pounding, Rayne found herself collapsing under a tree in a park, hugging her knees to her chest. Dusk had fallen while she was running and darkness was fast approaching. Leaning heavily against the tree to catch her breath, she looked around and realized that she didn't know where she was. She also realized that she didn't really care. She sat dejectedly as darkness enveloped her, passing the time staring out across the street at the nearby houses. She wanted to talk to someone. She wanted to talk to Jack. Realizing that what she had to say to him would be traumatic though, she didn't know where to turn.
She considered Sam for an instant. She had taken her number at Jack's house, promising a coffee outing. But she didn't know Sam that well and she sensed that what she had to tell her would change her relationship with Jack somehow. That was something that she wasn't willing to let happen. She hadn't really gotten close to any of her colleagues at the university either, certainly not close enough to talk about such personal information.
Rayne slowly got up and began walking. Not precisely sure where she was, or even from which direction she had come, she wasn't sure where to go. There was a street sign on the corner. She hoped that she would be able to find a telephone so that she could call a cab to pick her up. Further up the street, lights were blazing and she found, much to her relief, that they were coming from a small convenience store.
Upon approaching it, she found that it was closed, but fortunately there was a pay phone on the side. There was not, however, a telephone book and, tending to prefer the bus, Rayne didn't know the phone number of the cab company. Rayne punched the wall in frustration and began pacing back and forth. Frustrated tears filled her eyes and she shoved her hands into her pockets.
There was a piece of paper in her pocket and, pulling it out, she found a phone number. Rayne stared at it for a moment before slowly reaching for the phone and dialing the number.
The phone rang for a minute before someone answered breathlessly, "Hello?"
"Jonas? It's Rayne. Can I see you tonight? Umm, again?"
******
Half an hour later, a black car pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store where Rayne sat huddled on the cement between the telephone and the ice machine. It had gotten cool that evening and Rayne's light sweater hadn't been enough to sufficiently ward off the chill. She didn't really notice though as she sat staring unseeing at her knees. She was more pre-occupied with what had happened at her aunt's house. The longer she waited, the less she noticed around her.
Jonas wasn't sure why Rayne had called him. He had just gotten back to his quarters at the base, very pleased that the date had gone so well, even if it had ended abruptly. Stepping out of the borrowed car, he called her name gently. "Rayne?" When she didn't respond, he stepped closer. "Rayne?"
Still not getting a response, he crouched down next to her. He noticed her tear-stained face and vacant stare, he wondered what could have happened to the strong-willed woman that he had met earlier to put her into such a state, and he became angry at whatever, or whomever, it was that had done this to her.
He cupped her face in his hand and the touch brought her to life. She flinched her face away and pushed against him so hard that he fell back hard on the pavement as Rayne pressed herself further against the wall. Jonas looked at her dazed and Rayne stared back at him just as surprised.
"Jonas?" Rayne looked confused for a moment before realizing what had happened. "Oh." She said, her eyes beginning to glaze over again.
Jonas looked up at Rayne who was starting to once again withdraw into what was clearly shock. He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up before she could withdraw completely and led her to the car.
He knew that the best way to keep her alert was to make her talk to him. He set her in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. "Rayne, where do you live?"
She looked at him seemingly surprised that he was there. "The coffee shop."
She was worse than he suspected. "No, that's where we met. Where do you live?"
"Coffee shop. Upstairs." She pointed up and then followed the direction of her finger with her eyes looked at the ceiling of the car.
Jonas was beginning to wonder if someone had drugged her. Then he realized that many of the smaller shops in town had apartments above them. "Your apartment is over the coffee shop?"
Rayne brought her gaze down to his and nodded.
Jonas supposed that was the best he was going to get and closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, very glad that had taken the driving lessons offered on base.
As they drove along, Rayne, staring out the window, seemed to become more aware of her surroundings, but still remained withdrawn.
After a long period of silence, Rayne spoke. "She didn't know. I don't think Jack knows. Only I know." She lapsed into silence and Jonas wondered what she was talking about.
"What do you know, that Jack doesn't?" Jonas probed. He wanted to get to the bottom of this. He also really wanted to know where Rayne had been this evening that had put her into this state of mind.
Rayne looked at him thoroughly realizing that he was there. "When do you leave tomorrow? You should get some sleep."
"I don't leave until 11 tomorrow morning. Don't worry about me. Where were you this evening?"
"I went to see my aunt. She doesn't know, Jonas. She won't believe me."
"What doesn't she believe? What doesn't she know? Rayne. Rayne?"
Rayne had curled up with her head on the arm rest, staring at the front console."
Jonas sighed and they drove the rest of the way in silence.
***
Parking the car in a space in front of the coffee shop, Jonas got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side to help Rayne out. Faced with fresh air and familiar territory seemed to drag Rayne out of her trance. She still felt weak and held onto Jonas' hand with both of hers as she exhaustedly led the way up the stairs to her apartment.
After unlocking the door and stepping inside Rayne turned back to Jonas who stood at the door looking uncomfortable.
"Jonas, you can come in." She paused. "I need someone to talk to and I'd like it to be you."
He gave her a shy smile, one very different from his usual boisterous one and entered the room looking awkward. He looked around. The apartment was rather small. A beat-up couch and coffee table were shoved against one wall opposite what looked like a tiny kitchenette with a small table in the center. There were three doors against the left wall, presumably leading to bedroom, washroom, and a closet. There were two windows to the right, overlooking the street.
As he stood gawking at the room, Rayne had stepped behind him and tugged on his jacket, pulling it off his shoulders. Jonas jumped at the contact and stared at Rayne for a minute. She gave him a small grin. "Stay a while, won't you?" She asked.
Pleased to see that she had recovered a bit of her equilibrium, he returned the smile with a bigger one and shrugged out of his jacket, handing it over to her. She turned and hung it on a hook by the door.
Gesturing to the couch, "Have a seat. I need to get something."
Jonas sat and Rayne disappeared into the bedroom. When she returned, she was carrying a stack of binders. She sat them on the coffee table and seated herself next to Jonas. They both stared at the binders, not commenting on them.
Rayne turned to Jonas. "They're letters from Charlie, to me." Rayne looked at Jonas' face. "Charlie was my cousin," she clarified.
Realization took hold of Jonas. "Colonel O'Neill's son."
Rayne nodded. "Jack never knew that Charlie wrote to me. But I got letters from him for five years. From the time he was eight until he was thirteen. when he died."
Jonas took Rayne's hand and squeezed it, silently urging her to continue. "Charlie loved Jack more than anything in the world. I was always a bit jealous of their relationship." Rayne smiled sadly to herself. "But Charlie showed Jack all of his devotion, and me all of his secrets. He could be himself with me. I was different than Jack, as it's supposed to be. Jack was his father, I was his confidant. I told Charlie all of the things that happened in my life, good and bad. He was my outlet and I was his. Maybe that was why things happened. I told him things that children shouldn't hear. I made him grow up too quickly." She held her head in her hands, pulling at her hair.
"Rayne, how old were you?"
Rayne looked up at Jonas. "I was fourteen when he started writing. Why?"
"Because it seems to me that you were just a child too."
"I stopped being a child when my father died."
Jonas dropped back against the couch in surprise. He overcame it quickly, running through the various outcomes to his next question in his head. "How did he die?"
"Officially, the same way as Charlie. He held a gun to his throat and pulled the trigger. Unofficially, he probably had help."
Jonas' voice took on a somewhat strangled quality. "Help?"
"My father was a heroin addict. He tried to get clean on his own, but somehow, he always managed to find more of his 'candy' stashed around the house, even in places that we had already checked. He was afraid to come home when he finished re-hab. I always begged him to come though, and he did. Mother made me beg him." Rayne's eyes took on a haunted quality and she began to slowly rock back and forth. "Don't tell Jack what I said." She pleaded. "He's angry enough."
Jonas rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. He had no idea that this is what he would find tonight. He wasn't sure that he wanted to handle a situation like this on his own. He tried to think of something to change the subject to, but his mind was drawing a blank. Rayne changed it for him.
Rayne began talking, as if giving a soliloquy, rambling partly to Jonas, but also to a seemingly invisible entity. Her voice held the kind of quality of a person who is alone much of the time - used to talking in her own head. "Charlie helped me. I was so lonely at school. I had friends, you know, the vapid kinds of friendships that all teenagers have that start quickly and end over stupid things. Charlie's friendship was more substantial; I believed. When we got a bit older, we started talking via e- mail too, but the letters always came too. I always felt special getting mail from him and I kept it all a mystery. When the other girls got letters from their parents, and old nannies, and other friends, I got letters from Charlie. Sometimes I got letters from Sara too. That was always nice, but it didn't compare to his letters."
"Sara?"
"Oh, she's my aunt. Jack's wife. er ex-wife."
"You were at her house tonight. She upset you."
Rayne looked at Jonas, as one looks at someone who is several steps behind in a conversation. "Yes, she thinks it was an accident."
Jonas sighed in exasperation. "What was an accident?"
Rayne echoed Jonas' sigh. "Charlie."
"What about Charlie?"
Rayne looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Then she pulled out one of the binders and flipped it to the back, handing it over for Jonas to read.
Feeling a bit self-conscious about reading Rayne's mail, he looked it over. Then he read it. Then he read it again and looked up in horror at Rayne. "It's a suicide letter."
Rayne nodded her head sadly. "I'm the only one who got one. Everyone else thinks it was an accident. Jonas, I don't know what to do."
**Warning: It's not as bad as you think.
***
Rayne bolted out of Sara's house running as fast as she could, shock and disbelief clouding her brain.
Finally, her heart pounding, Rayne found herself collapsing under a tree in a park, hugging her knees to her chest. Dusk had fallen while she was running and darkness was fast approaching. Leaning heavily against the tree to catch her breath, she looked around and realized that she didn't know where she was. She also realized that she didn't really care. She sat dejectedly as darkness enveloped her, passing the time staring out across the street at the nearby houses. She wanted to talk to someone. She wanted to talk to Jack. Realizing that what she had to say to him would be traumatic though, she didn't know where to turn.
She considered Sam for an instant. She had taken her number at Jack's house, promising a coffee outing. But she didn't know Sam that well and she sensed that what she had to tell her would change her relationship with Jack somehow. That was something that she wasn't willing to let happen. She hadn't really gotten close to any of her colleagues at the university either, certainly not close enough to talk about such personal information.
Rayne slowly got up and began walking. Not precisely sure where she was, or even from which direction she had come, she wasn't sure where to go. There was a street sign on the corner. She hoped that she would be able to find a telephone so that she could call a cab to pick her up. Further up the street, lights were blazing and she found, much to her relief, that they were coming from a small convenience store.
Upon approaching it, she found that it was closed, but fortunately there was a pay phone on the side. There was not, however, a telephone book and, tending to prefer the bus, Rayne didn't know the phone number of the cab company. Rayne punched the wall in frustration and began pacing back and forth. Frustrated tears filled her eyes and she shoved her hands into her pockets.
There was a piece of paper in her pocket and, pulling it out, she found a phone number. Rayne stared at it for a moment before slowly reaching for the phone and dialing the number.
The phone rang for a minute before someone answered breathlessly, "Hello?"
"Jonas? It's Rayne. Can I see you tonight? Umm, again?"
******
Half an hour later, a black car pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store where Rayne sat huddled on the cement between the telephone and the ice machine. It had gotten cool that evening and Rayne's light sweater hadn't been enough to sufficiently ward off the chill. She didn't really notice though as she sat staring unseeing at her knees. She was more pre-occupied with what had happened at her aunt's house. The longer she waited, the less she noticed around her.
Jonas wasn't sure why Rayne had called him. He had just gotten back to his quarters at the base, very pleased that the date had gone so well, even if it had ended abruptly. Stepping out of the borrowed car, he called her name gently. "Rayne?" When she didn't respond, he stepped closer. "Rayne?"
Still not getting a response, he crouched down next to her. He noticed her tear-stained face and vacant stare, he wondered what could have happened to the strong-willed woman that he had met earlier to put her into such a state, and he became angry at whatever, or whomever, it was that had done this to her.
He cupped her face in his hand and the touch brought her to life. She flinched her face away and pushed against him so hard that he fell back hard on the pavement as Rayne pressed herself further against the wall. Jonas looked at her dazed and Rayne stared back at him just as surprised.
"Jonas?" Rayne looked confused for a moment before realizing what had happened. "Oh." She said, her eyes beginning to glaze over again.
Jonas looked up at Rayne who was starting to once again withdraw into what was clearly shock. He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up before she could withdraw completely and led her to the car.
He knew that the best way to keep her alert was to make her talk to him. He set her in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. "Rayne, where do you live?"
She looked at him seemingly surprised that he was there. "The coffee shop."
She was worse than he suspected. "No, that's where we met. Where do you live?"
"Coffee shop. Upstairs." She pointed up and then followed the direction of her finger with her eyes looked at the ceiling of the car.
Jonas was beginning to wonder if someone had drugged her. Then he realized that many of the smaller shops in town had apartments above them. "Your apartment is over the coffee shop?"
Rayne brought her gaze down to his and nodded.
Jonas supposed that was the best he was going to get and closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, very glad that had taken the driving lessons offered on base.
As they drove along, Rayne, staring out the window, seemed to become more aware of her surroundings, but still remained withdrawn.
After a long period of silence, Rayne spoke. "She didn't know. I don't think Jack knows. Only I know." She lapsed into silence and Jonas wondered what she was talking about.
"What do you know, that Jack doesn't?" Jonas probed. He wanted to get to the bottom of this. He also really wanted to know where Rayne had been this evening that had put her into this state of mind.
Rayne looked at him thoroughly realizing that he was there. "When do you leave tomorrow? You should get some sleep."
"I don't leave until 11 tomorrow morning. Don't worry about me. Where were you this evening?"
"I went to see my aunt. She doesn't know, Jonas. She won't believe me."
"What doesn't she believe? What doesn't she know? Rayne. Rayne?"
Rayne had curled up with her head on the arm rest, staring at the front console."
Jonas sighed and they drove the rest of the way in silence.
***
Parking the car in a space in front of the coffee shop, Jonas got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side to help Rayne out. Faced with fresh air and familiar territory seemed to drag Rayne out of her trance. She still felt weak and held onto Jonas' hand with both of hers as she exhaustedly led the way up the stairs to her apartment.
After unlocking the door and stepping inside Rayne turned back to Jonas who stood at the door looking uncomfortable.
"Jonas, you can come in." She paused. "I need someone to talk to and I'd like it to be you."
He gave her a shy smile, one very different from his usual boisterous one and entered the room looking awkward. He looked around. The apartment was rather small. A beat-up couch and coffee table were shoved against one wall opposite what looked like a tiny kitchenette with a small table in the center. There were three doors against the left wall, presumably leading to bedroom, washroom, and a closet. There were two windows to the right, overlooking the street.
As he stood gawking at the room, Rayne had stepped behind him and tugged on his jacket, pulling it off his shoulders. Jonas jumped at the contact and stared at Rayne for a minute. She gave him a small grin. "Stay a while, won't you?" She asked.
Pleased to see that she had recovered a bit of her equilibrium, he returned the smile with a bigger one and shrugged out of his jacket, handing it over to her. She turned and hung it on a hook by the door.
Gesturing to the couch, "Have a seat. I need to get something."
Jonas sat and Rayne disappeared into the bedroom. When she returned, she was carrying a stack of binders. She sat them on the coffee table and seated herself next to Jonas. They both stared at the binders, not commenting on them.
Rayne turned to Jonas. "They're letters from Charlie, to me." Rayne looked at Jonas' face. "Charlie was my cousin," she clarified.
Realization took hold of Jonas. "Colonel O'Neill's son."
Rayne nodded. "Jack never knew that Charlie wrote to me. But I got letters from him for five years. From the time he was eight until he was thirteen. when he died."
Jonas took Rayne's hand and squeezed it, silently urging her to continue. "Charlie loved Jack more than anything in the world. I was always a bit jealous of their relationship." Rayne smiled sadly to herself. "But Charlie showed Jack all of his devotion, and me all of his secrets. He could be himself with me. I was different than Jack, as it's supposed to be. Jack was his father, I was his confidant. I told Charlie all of the things that happened in my life, good and bad. He was my outlet and I was his. Maybe that was why things happened. I told him things that children shouldn't hear. I made him grow up too quickly." She held her head in her hands, pulling at her hair.
"Rayne, how old were you?"
Rayne looked up at Jonas. "I was fourteen when he started writing. Why?"
"Because it seems to me that you were just a child too."
"I stopped being a child when my father died."
Jonas dropped back against the couch in surprise. He overcame it quickly, running through the various outcomes to his next question in his head. "How did he die?"
"Officially, the same way as Charlie. He held a gun to his throat and pulled the trigger. Unofficially, he probably had help."
Jonas' voice took on a somewhat strangled quality. "Help?"
"My father was a heroin addict. He tried to get clean on his own, but somehow, he always managed to find more of his 'candy' stashed around the house, even in places that we had already checked. He was afraid to come home when he finished re-hab. I always begged him to come though, and he did. Mother made me beg him." Rayne's eyes took on a haunted quality and she began to slowly rock back and forth. "Don't tell Jack what I said." She pleaded. "He's angry enough."
Jonas rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. He had no idea that this is what he would find tonight. He wasn't sure that he wanted to handle a situation like this on his own. He tried to think of something to change the subject to, but his mind was drawing a blank. Rayne changed it for him.
Rayne began talking, as if giving a soliloquy, rambling partly to Jonas, but also to a seemingly invisible entity. Her voice held the kind of quality of a person who is alone much of the time - used to talking in her own head. "Charlie helped me. I was so lonely at school. I had friends, you know, the vapid kinds of friendships that all teenagers have that start quickly and end over stupid things. Charlie's friendship was more substantial; I believed. When we got a bit older, we started talking via e- mail too, but the letters always came too. I always felt special getting mail from him and I kept it all a mystery. When the other girls got letters from their parents, and old nannies, and other friends, I got letters from Charlie. Sometimes I got letters from Sara too. That was always nice, but it didn't compare to his letters."
"Sara?"
"Oh, she's my aunt. Jack's wife. er ex-wife."
"You were at her house tonight. She upset you."
Rayne looked at Jonas, as one looks at someone who is several steps behind in a conversation. "Yes, she thinks it was an accident."
Jonas sighed in exasperation. "What was an accident?"
Rayne echoed Jonas' sigh. "Charlie."
"What about Charlie?"
Rayne looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Then she pulled out one of the binders and flipped it to the back, handing it over for Jonas to read.
Feeling a bit self-conscious about reading Rayne's mail, he looked it over. Then he read it. Then he read it again and looked up in horror at Rayne. "It's a suicide letter."
Rayne nodded her head sadly. "I'm the only one who got one. Everyone else thinks it was an accident. Jonas, I don't know what to do."
