Title: Secrets Behind the Lies

Author: Stress

First written: June 27, 2002- March 19, 2004

Edited and replaced: May 16, 2006

Summary: Part II of the Soul Mates Series; After living in Manhattan for two years, Stress thought she knew everything about Jack Kelly or, should we say Francis Sullivan? Well, guess not.

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The Secret Spot

The secret spot. The spot was such a secret that only the two of them - Stress & Jack - knew about it and frequently used it. A secluded nook just behind a long alleyway, it was there that the two of them had met two years ago. Upon arriving in Manhattan, Stress had received a fright after meeting King for the first time and took off in a run, finding her way to a spot she thought she could hide out. To her surprise, though, she found Jack back there practicing his rope tricks.

Now, after being the best of friends for the past two years, the two of them would use their "secret spot" to talk or just think about stuff.

And, whenever the City seemed to be too much for her and she yearned for the peace and security of her homeland, Stress always ran to the same place to be alone. Tucked away, hidden by random back alleys all leading in criss-crossing directions, was the tiny nook where, if one tried hard enough, it was possible to imagine that the City was far behind them. This nook, this secret spot, was her sanctuary -- and if there was anytime that she needed a sanctuary, it was now.

"Make a right down that street, jump over the barrel, duck behind this corner, and I'm here," she murmured to herself as she plopped down against the brick of the abandoned building. Then, taking a deep breath and willing herself not to cry out in frustration or hurt, Stress began to run through the day's occurrences in her mind.

She had just gotten to the part where she and King had set up that diversion and slipped inside the Refuge when she heard the sound of heavy feet approaching. Inwardly, she groaned. There was only one other person who knew about the city's secluded sanction.

"Hey there, Stressie."

Stress looked up, her scowl deep in enough to set lines into her face. "So nice of you to join me, Francis."

This time Jack caught the reference to his name and he paled. "Francis?" he whispered, averting her eyes.

"Yeah, Francis. I know."

Pushing a pile of dirt around with his shoe, Jack asked, "How didja find out?"

"I have ears, y'know. Me and King went down to the Refuge to rescue you and we heard you talking to Snyder."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Do you want to tell me what this is all about?"

Jack said nothing.

"I thought that we had no secrets beween us, Jack. And now this? Why did you lie?"

"There's always a secret behind a lie, Stress," Jack whispered as he stood in front of her, leaning his back against the wall of the alley.

"And what's your secret, Jack? That you ain't who I thought you was? 'Cause I can tell that for meself…" Stress hissed as she turned her head and stared into the darkness.

"What that's supposed to mean?"

"Simple. Ya let me believe for the past two years that you was 'Jack Kelly', an abandoned orphan. But you ain't. You're just Francis Sullivan, a boy with a dead mother and a crook for a pa."

That one hit Jack. He bent down and roughly grabbed her arm. "Ya don't know what you're talking about, Stress. And, for another thing, what about your secrets and your lies?"

Stress jerked her arm out of his grip, frightened yet angered by his rough gesture. "I ain't got no secrets, Jack. I'm the honest one in this friendship."

He snorted. "What about your pal from Queens? Remember him?"

She stared up at him in disbelief. "Rip? Are you talking about him?"

"Whatever his name was."

"What does he have to do with anything? And, besides, I thought we all agreed never to mention him again."

"Well, let me tell you, Miss Perfect, you lied about him. It took you all that time to tell me and the others about what happened between you two in Queens."

"Are you crazy? I told you after a week. It's been two years, Jack. Two years!"

"It ain't no different," Jack insisted, desperate to prove he wasn't the only one in the wrong.

"Of course it is. I didn't lie at all."

"Well, I didn't, either. You ever asked me what happened to my folks, did you?"

Stress stood up, crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "'My name is Jack Kelly'. Isn't that what you told me when we first met?"

"You changed your name, too, Stress -- Jess, because of your lies."

"I told you, Francis. I didn't lie at all. I was just - um - improving the truth about the reason why I moved to Manhattan."

A nasty grin came to Jack's face now that he had an opening to show her how wrong she is. "Call it what you will, but you still didn't introduce yourself as who you really were -- you lied to us all. And what did your lie get you?"

As the color drained from her face, Stress lowered her voice to a whisper. "Please, Jack, no."

But he couldn't stop now, not when he could prove that he was as much a victim to her lies as he she was to his. "It got you flat on your back in a dirty alley, that's what."

Stress took a step back before hissing, "I kept my past hidden from you all because it was hard for me to accept what happened with Rip. And, besides, I was trying to protect my new friends."

Jack sneered, marring his normally good looks. "You did a great job protecting Gip that time Rip came around," he said, referring to the only time Rip came to Manhattan which resulted in both Stress and Gip being knocked unconscious. Stress opened her mouth to reply but Jack, seething with anger, cut her off. "And you had a hard time accepting what happened with your pal from Queens? Well, I can help you out there. Rip actually told me this himself and I defended you. I guess I was wrong -- you were his dirty whore."

Feeling that their argument was still brewing, Jack waited for some fiery retort before he would eventually cool down, give in and apologize. After all, that's how all of their arguments have gone before -- but, then again, none of their arguments had ever mentioned Rip or his parents before.

Therefore, Jack was surprised and horrified when, instead of retorting, Stress recoiled as if she had been slapped. Instantly he regretted his words. "Oh my God, Stressie. I didn't mean that at all. It just came out in the heat of the argument. You know I didn't mean it."

Instead of replying, Stress stared at Jack, horror-struck, before making to leave the alley. As she slipped past him, Jack reached out and grabbed her arm, tightly. "Stress, wait-"

"Don't ever, and I mean never, grab me like that, Cowboy! I let it slide just before, but I ain't going to ever let no one rough me up again," she hissed, backing away suddenly. For the first time in two years, since she had run away from Spindle and Rip in Queens, and had met up with Jack, King and all her friends now, Stress was on the defensive. She hadn't known Jack at all; what if he had the ability to hurt her the way that Rip did? She couldn't - and wouldn't - let that happen.

He dropped her arm in surprise, and, for a moment, looked hurt as he noticed the stand-offish expression on her face.

But it was only for a moment. Jack turned his head slightly so he wasn't looking at her. "Well, why don't you go run off and find yourself a new friend, then. God only knows how lonely you get at night without him."

If the remark about Rip wasn't hard enough for Stress to take, Jack's last comment broke her strong facade. Maybe Jack is just as cruel as Rip, Stress thought to herself, tears springing to her eyes. As she remained standing next to Jack, frozen in place as tears slid down her cheeks, Jack turned his head back to face her, prepared for the vicious retort that just had to come his way.

Again, though, Stress surprised him with her lack of biting remarks. Instead of saying anything back to him, she simply faced him and, for the first time in almost two years, let him see her cry.

Jack paused for a moment as he felt his heart break inside. Did he really let their argument go that far? After all the years of keeping his own past hidden from anyone, maybe he was having a hard time accepting his past just like she had done. But, when Stress was going through her hard time when they first met two years ago, she didn't take her frustration out on him; on the contrary, she had turned to him for support. Why couldn't he just ask her for her support instead of dragging up her past? He didn't know the anwer -- but he knew he had made a huge mistake in letting his own emotions push their argument so far. Slowly Jack rested his hand on her arm. "Stress, I --"

But upon his contact, Stress flinched and brought her arm back. Then, before Jack could finish his sentence, she brought her fist forward and punched him right across his left eye.