Fragile

Prologue

Sometimes when he was lying in bed at night, he could hear her mumbling in his sleep. Most of the words were unrecognizable, but once in a while he'd decipher his own name. He didn't know what caused the strain in her voice and the terror in her words. She sounded scared. Scared for him.

Sometimes when he'd come home after work he'd find her sitting in the living room in silence, staring into space. He didn't ask her why, but he couldn't figure out why she could be so distant. He supposed it was because of Jess. It didn't always used to be like this. She didn't always cling to him for dear life. She didn't always cry in her sleep. She didn't always do the things she did now. Their conversations tiptoed around the strange events that happened in their household. He knew she would never love him. But he had to take care of her.

She didn't get out of bed today until it was absolutely necessary. It had been a year. She just cried into her pillow, until there weren't anymore tears. Lorelei called to tell her when to come to the service. She wiped her face and put on a dress, made herself pretty. He tripped over a book on the floor. Hemmingway. He placed it back under her pillow where it belonged.

They were going now. Back to the town they had loved so much, and back to the pain which consumed his wife. Dean and Rory were going to visit Jess' Grave.