14

Too Much To Ask

Jesse sat uncomfortably on the living room couch staring blankly at the chessboard in front of him. His concentration was deep and focused on Shalimar. So focused in fact that he didn't even hear the clicking of heels as they approached at a steady pace from behind.

"No wonder you're no good at chess," Lexa's voice beamed from behind him. "You get that stumped just playing by yourself."

Jesse gave her a half turn of his head and she followed the couch around the take the empty seat next to him placing a gentle hand on his jeaned thigh.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she inquired as it was more than obvious he was troubled to say the least about something.

Not like that was anything new though. It might have been new to Lexa as she barely knew any of the team yet but Jesse had always been very obvious and readable with his emotions, his boyishness giving him away easier most of the time. Actually, Lexa had to admit she found it quite cute.

"I was just thinkin' about Shal," he informed ceasing to allow his gaze to meet with her own.

"She's been acting pretty normal recently."

"No, she hasn't been. I know it seems like it but…I know there's more going on that she's not saying."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I've known Shalimar for a long time. She doesn't just get over things so quickly. She's more sensitive than that. More than she'd like to admit."

"Well, she seems like a tough girl I'm sure she'll be ok."

Jesse remained silent knowing this woman couldn't possible understand the delicate nature of his closest friend and not really feeling the need to try and explain it to her either.

"I think I'm just gonna go," he said standing from the couch and patting his thighs as he rose.

Lexa tried to hide the frown which spread across her face. The last thing she wanted was upset him. Of all the Mutant X members, well all three of them anyways, she'd met since arriving at Sanctuary she actually hoped to get to know Jesse more than anyone else.

Jesse made his way across the room and Lexa twisted in her seat debating whether or not to try and say something.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I-"

"It's ok," the blonde interrupted, keeping his back to her.

Without another word he was gone and Lexa sighed sitting herself fully back into the couch which oddly enough suddenly felt anything but comfortable.

Shalimar lie curled up in a ball against her soft, purple pillow. Well, originally it was Emma's pillow. She used to bring it in with her on those nights they'd have a slumber party type get together in her bedroom and Shalimar had kept it on her bed every night since she'd been gone. It gave her a sense the psionic was still there with her. At least it was supposed to. Every time she looked at it, touched it, smelt it, all she could do was miss her friend more and that was hardly helping her cause any. She had tried to convince herself countless mornings when she awoke to the object beside her in bed that Emma was still there with her and had just stepped out to go to the bathroom or grab a quick breakfast. But it never worked. Her heart wasn't fooled that easily by far and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Comforting the pillow was, but stinging pain it also carried. But at the same time she couldn't bare to part with it. Couldn't bare to part with many of Emma's things she'd snatched from the psionic's room and horded into her own closet like some love struck or grief stricken packrat. Shoes, outfits, necklaces, jewelry, candles, a blanket, a couple towels, some of Emma's old childhood objects, a couple of the smaller pillows Emma had always kept out on her bed, journals, photo albums, a couple statues, CD's, and the white teddy bear with the heart across its chest she'd given the psionic remained seated in the center of her bed, almost as if watching over her. She even kept a couple pairs of Emma's socks. Once or twice she'd found herself sleeping in Emma's night pants or wearing and cuddling into one of her tank tops desperately trying to get as close to her as possible, trying to cling to the bits of psionic that still remained upon them. It was almost like she was sharing a room with the woman though she kept most of her things hidden as they were only constant reminders of her inner most turmoil's. Shalimar just couldn't give away those things even to Emma's friends. It was painful enough losing the woman but to let her earthly possessions fade away too seemed too much to ask.

Emma was alive, was there in Sanctuary, in her own room, and Shalimar couldn't bare to just let that all be gone. She had to keep as much of her around as possible. It wasn't too hard since she hardly left her room anymore. Sure she'd go out on missions and make the same movements she always had, lying to her friends about her secret struggles. Having needed to master the fine art of lying long ago it wasn't too difficult for her to accomplish. Not like any of them could see into her soul or even how she was truly feeling. Not like any of them were psionic's.

Psionics, she thought. Funny how it always came back to that word wasn't it? Emma always knew when something was wrong. Always knew what to say. How many times had she walked over to the grieving or upset feral and managed to comfort her wounds with just her words? How many heart to hearts had they shared? Nearly one at least after every mission not to mention all the connections they shared just on a daily basis. Shalimar knew it wasn't merely the fact that Emma was one of those psionics either but something deeper. At least, she hoped it was, and she probably would've found out if she hadn't gone to Naxcon that day and Emma and Adam hadn't…she stopped herself, the beaten path her heart was beginning to take was just that, beaten, and she couldn't stroll down that memory lane again right now. It was far too rocky. But maybe if she made it to that night she would've heard what she'd been dying to for so long. Maybe, that is. Not like she could find out now.

But the lying was getting to her. As good as she was at hiding it when it came right down to the line she couldn't lie to her own heart, never could, unfortunate as it was. It hurt too great and she was like a worm on a hook, dying more every second as she sank deeper and deeper into the icy waters. The more she wiggled about and tried to break free the quicker it seemed to occur. The more evident her fate became. And she was helpless to stop what lie ahead but she couldn't face what wasn't there anymore. Couldn't play her part any longer. The lines choked her up and the lying broke her heart. What was left of it anyway. The remaining shards she was still clinging to desperately praying it was just enough to…stay alive. No, it was too much to ask.

Everyday had been winter since Emma had died. She'd noticed the unwavering coldness soon after, settling over her wounded heart like a rain cloud. Coldness which refused to move on but she could relate. The birds refused to sing and the sun refused to shine. There were no more gentle breezes and the wind shook violently when it passed her, as if trying to shake free the remaining hold on her sanity she was clinging to. The never ending night had set in and winter's icy clutches had sunk their claws deep, making their permanent home all around her as well in the depths of her frozen heart. Had she even felt it beat since that day? No. At least she couldn't recall one.

Yet somehow she managed to carry on, on the outside anyway. During her days her friends watched her, battling mutants or whatever else was the dilemma that week. But come that familiar nighttime feeling and it was much different through the feral's eyes. Come the dusk the sun went down and her angst awoke, and she found she was facing much harder struggles, where battling mutants seemed almost welcoming instead of battling for her life like she was when the sun was gone.

Well, when the day was dimmer that is since the sun in her world had gone on permanent strike the fateful day Emma was departed from her. And on those slim occasions it did shine it was only slightly, dimly, at least through her eyes, and she resented it. How dare it rise and shine when Emma was gone and would no longer do the same? How arrogant to think this world would still turn without her. Her world was driven to a sudden halt that day and she resented the rest of the world for having the nerve to spin as if nothing had happened. Yes, she resented the world for not ending when Emma had.

Walking down the hall Jesse could feel his feral friends pain almost guiding him to her, calling out loud, an almost deafening sound echoing through Sanctuary's halls as well as every fiber of his own being and he fought to fight through the angst in the atmosphere she was generating.

Turning into the feral's doorway he almost felt the need to cover his own heart with his hand before entering, closing the door behind him. Shalimar's punch had knocked him over before but this was ten times worse. The pain in her heart was so great even he was nearly bowled over by it just standing in the same room with her.

The air seemed thicker in Shalimar's room than the hall. Perhaps the weight of her pain was making it less appealing to him as he inched his way over to her like she was some trembling child he had to gain the trust of.

"Shal," he spoke softly yet loud enough he would be certain she'd hear.

She kept still in her position on the bed though she did indeed hear the molecular. She hated letting anyone see her like this but couldn't find the strength to cease her sorrow at the moment and it made her feel helpless, a feeling she hated even more. She wasn't crying really, but tears were still only slightly dry on her reddened face.

"Hey, Shal," the man called again, approaching her bedside and sitting himself down, still being sure to move carefully in his actions.

She didn't answer. Not because she wanted to be rude, but all the memories she'd been going over in her head had brought such pain to her heart that her throat hurt too much to speak at the moment, to even breath.

Jesse looked down at her. Her arms were wrapped around Emma's pillow like a life raft and her knees together and brought up to it as well. She looked like a child who'd just lost their mother and Jesse couldn't recall a time he'd ever seen her look more hurt than at that moment and the displayed pain on her face was more than enough to chill his own heart.

He reached out, brushing a large strand of blonde hair from her hidden face. It was at that time he could tell she'd been crying earlier. Why did she put herself through this charade everyday, he asked himself, and no answers seemed worthy in his mind but he knew Shalimar had her reasons. Unvoiced reasons that is. In the last month or so it had been since Emma's passing he'd come to notice the unsettling pattern in his friend and it only worried him more with each coming day.

Jesse reached out again aiming to take her hand which lie across the top of the purple pillowcase and the gesture got a reaction from the feral. Her eyes flickered to his hand as it moved closer to her own as if it were some sort of lifeline intent on rescuing her but she knew it was no use. Her heart was already too deeply emerged in the ever sinking quicksand to be pulled out now no matter how hard he might tug.

"Shalimar, I was wondering if-"

"I don't wanna talk, Jesse," she answered instantly yet non harshly and he almost looked a little taken off guard like one of those rodents who thinks the snake's dead and then suddenly it springs into action. Only Shalimar didn't spring into action. Instead she seemed perfectly content to lie on her bed engulfed in her pain.

"Alright then at least come out to a movie with us," he pleaded trying harder to break the feral free from the bonds of torture which held her so securely even he couldn't phase them off.

A movie, she thought. That was the last thing she needed right now. If she needed to see anything fake with false feelings she didn't have to look any farther than her own life, such as it had become, to find it. She was acting everyday. The people in that movie should take a look at her performance. At how she still managed to carry herself on a broken heart. Even she wasn't sure how she could do it. The only justification she had was sometimes your body was dead but your brain waves were still active, refusing to give up, still clinging desperately to what they once had. Her heart was no different she'd realized. It might've been killed but it still reached out sometimes seeking its desires, what little still remained. That's how she saw herself. Dead inside. Just a shell of the woman she used to be.

"Come on, Shal, it's a nice day. We're thinkin' of goin' to the beach after you can catch some sun or something."

Good thing he wasn't a lawyer, she thought, as his pleading was only lessening her desires for agreeing with him, since getting some sun was also on that list of last things she needed. She certainly didn't need to stand in that sunlight letting the reality hit her like a ton of bricks. It was doing a fine job already in her own bedroom and would do an even better one on its own turf. And the beach of all places. A place she and Emma loved to go to and get away. No, that was too much to ask too. She hadn't set foot on that beach since she'd been in the psionic's company and no way was she about to step onto that battlefield with no armor for her broken heart.

"Shal, I think a little daylight would be good for you," his voice came again.

Sunlight would be good for her? Yeah, maybe in the same way it would be beneficial to a vampire. She could relate after all. She had hardly felt her own soul in ages. She wouldn't even know it was still there if it didn't ache as deeply as it did. If she couldn't feel the cuts and scars scattered all over it, some only deepening with each passing day. And daylight. Daylight only gave the dooming process a helping hand; a booster shot. No, that was hardly what she needed to say the least. It was just too much to ask of her fragile soul and tattered heart.

Shalimar could feel herself actually getting madder. She knew he only wanted to help but it was like pouring salt into her open wound. She was lying there bleeding and he was standing above her with a gallon of salt letting it drip into her open flesh. How could he suggest she go out and 'soak up the sun'? He should know better than that. She hadn't soaked up the sun in a long time. And when she did go out she would "hide" from it if anything; avoiding it as much as she could and turned away from the rays like a vampire fearing for its life, what little she considered herself to have left that is.

A mission to save anyone else for any other mutant made or man made disasters was one thing. She was helping the living, but to go out and pretend to be one of them, could she handle that now? She didn't think so. Sure she might be able to take a few nights of it a week, might be able to drown those broken heart shards with alcohol for a little while but it was never enough and it never lasted. They always sunk back down to the pit of her stomach, slicing deeply along the way. She'd already had more than her share of fake fun this week and today staying in bed seemed the only thing to do.

Shalimar felt herself on the verge of tears again and she sat herself up, locking sad eyes with Jesse's sympathetic own, the dark circles under her eyes telling a story she'd hoped to keep hidden. She was thankful she'd been on the bed, otherwise the endless supply of tears she'd shed recently would surly have drown her long ago if not soaked up by the forgiving mattress.

Jesse reached out to embrace the blonde, pulling her tightly into his own body, and for once Shalimar felt some warmth.

"You need to come out, Shal. You need to let yourself feel. I know this is hard for you and I know you don't want to but you have to," he tried his case again hoping she'd accept it.

"I can't today," she softly acknowledged as if she had no say in the matter what so ever but Jesse knew better. He knew her willpower was far greater than she was giving herself credit for.

"Yes you can, Shal. I know you can. I've seen you before. You can't let yourself get like this anymore. You need to stop."

Shalimar pulled herself free from him at the words and she almost appeared to be considering his plea for a moment. Deep down she did want to go to the beach. She did want to smile, to laugh, and to have a good time, but sometimes when she let reality hit her like this things just became too hard even for her. And now was one of those times.

"I know you need to enjoy yourself, Shal, and I know you can. I've seen you since…" he stopped himself knowing that was the last thing her fragile ears and heart needed at the moment. "Don't let yourself get so wrapped up in the pain, Shal. Come out with us. I know it's hard for you everyday and I know what you go through when you're alone sometimes. It's best you're among friends right now if you're feeling like this; do things you love doing."

Things she loved doing, she reiterated in her own head and it seemed to echo through her tortured mind. She'd done some of those things but now that Emma wasn't there she didn't seem to be able to reach the same heights of happiness she had when the psionic was around. So what was the point? Sure they made her feel good sometimes but she knew there was more. Knew she was capable of more. And she also knew only Emma was the one who could bring it out of her. She couldn't find the desire to only be half content at the moment.

"I think I'm just gonna take a shower," she finally answered, standing from the tear dampened bed and heading for the door.

A shower. Like somehow standing under lukewarm water would wash away all the hurt she was drowning in. There wasn't enough water in the world for that by far. She could never cleanse herself of this pain and truthfully she didn't want to. Not fully anyways. Inside she knew she would never truly "move on". She'd never be ok with Emma being gone and that was a fact. The only problem was she didn't know how to deal with living with her gone. Living. That was the key word. That was what she was missing. No matter what she did she wasn't living. Hadn't been since Emma was there. It wasn't that she wanted to forget about her friend, not that she ever could. She wanted to keep her memory as close as she could until Emma was almost a part of her yet somehow be able to function the way she used to. At least as close to that as she'd be able to get, but she just didn't know how. She didn't know how to feel and being Shalimar made that more difficult for her along with the fact she was a feral made it difficult for her.

As quickly as she had stood the feral was gone leaving a sad Jesse alone on the bed with the heavy sigh that escaped his lips. He hoped one day she'd be alright. Hoped one day she'd be able to get through a month without having quite a few long nights cries. Hoped one day she'd be herself again. Not the herself he'd known before she'd met Emma but the feral he'd known when Emma was with them. The feral he saw then which he considered to be the happiest feral in the world. That was the woman, the friend, he missed more every day. That was the woman he wanted to see, to talk to, to spend time at the beach with. The true Shalimar with smiling eyes and a healthy and complete heart. That was the Shalimar he wanted home again. But that seemed too much to ask.