Memento Mori
A Selection of shorts and unrelated one-shots. Mostly stuff that comes to my head while watching the show or things I think should have happened. Things I would like to see. Jane Centric, but there will be shorts about the other characters as well.
I really want to see some more scenes between Reade and Jane. This is just a little something I thought of and it was also a little something requested by a reader called Prisscila. (Sorry If I have spelt that wrong)
Hope you enjoy. Please tell me what you think!
Let me know if there are any mistakes. :)
Someone To Talk To
Sometimes, we find comfort in the most unlikeliest of people.
The headache only seemed to get worse when he moved, his limbs felt like lead as he tried to make sense of where he was. His mind seeming fuzzy as he tried to make sense of the situation. Just a few moments ago he was having a few drinks with the guys, eating pizza and watching some old game tapes. The next thing he knew, he was staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling, hearing a strange but familiar voice talking to him. Taunting him.
There was a ringing in his ears as he strained to move his head, attempting to take in his surroundings. Each and every inch of his body feeling heavy.
A blurry silhouette entered his vision, black as night as he felt his body suddenly become cold.
"Don't worry Edgar." The voice sounded distant and echoed when it met his ears. "It's will be our little secret."
Reade woke with a strangled scream, a sharp intake of breath muffled over the sound of his alarm clock. His heart raced as he wiped the sweat away from his brow, his hands curling into firsts as he attempted to control his laboured breathing.
He stopped at his favourite coffee shop on the way into work, his eyes feeling heavy as he waited in the long line of people grabbing their caffeine fix before work. He bought himself the last blueberry muffin. They always seemed to put a smile on his face but when he bit into it, it tasted bitter. He felt empty. Like all the happiness has been sucked from him. He wondered if this is what Jane felt everyday of her life.
He was an hour late to work. Luckily, it had been a slow day so far. At least, nothing had blown up. Yet.
When he arrived in the office, he was greeted by Tasha. She wore a tired smile on her face, a half full cup of coffee held in her hand and an oat bar held in the other. She smiled at him with a mouthful of breakfast cereal, waving him over to her desk and ignoring the small bist of debris that fell from the bar and on to the floor.
"You're late." She said as she swallowed and took a sip of her coffee. Reade rubbed his neck.
"Rough night." He said simply, Tasha smirked.
"What's her name." Tasha chuckled then looked down at the two takeaway cups read held in his hand.
"One of those for me?" She asked.
Reade didn't answer her, instead he looked around the office noticing the absence of a certain painted woman. He glanced towards her desk only now noticing the compulsive neatness that decorated the tables surface. Every book, pencil and piece of paper seeming to have its own individual place. He glanced down at Zapata's untidy desk. A small red blob from what he assumed was yesterday's jam doughnut encrusted on the keyboard.
"Do you know where Jane is?" Reade asked.
"Yeah, she recovered a memory in her session with Bordon." Tasha explained. "She had a panic attack. It took both Patterson and the Doc to calm her down."
"Is she okay?" Reade asked, a worried expression crossing his face. Even Tasha seemed apologetic and concerned.
"I don't know, after it happened she went and sat in the conference room over there." Tasha inclined her head towards the room at the far end of the office. Reade could just make out the faint figure that sat at the end of the table. "She hasn't moved since."
Tasha frowned, moving closer to her friend.
"You okay?" She asked. Reade nodded, his gaze still focused on Jane.
"Yeah, I'm good." Reade answered, distracted. "Listen, I gotta go."
Tasha watched her friend go, her brow creasing ever so slightly.
Reade moved slowly to the conference room, his legs seeming to grow heavier and heavier with each step. He stopped just outside the door, taking a deep breath before he pushed it open. Jane either didn't notice him enter, or didn't care. Her eyes still focused on the white smudged pages on the table, her eyes unblinking as she focused on the artwork in front of her. As Reade moved towards her he noticed the thin white wire that stuck out from behind her hair. The faint sound of music coming from the earphone that hung by her chest. Reade moved to the end of the table, pulling out the chair to Jane's left and taking a seat. He placed the coffee on the table, pushing it towards her.
"I grabbed you a coffee on my way in. Black with about half a bottle of Vanilla syrup." He chuckled nervously. Jane didn't seem to take any notice. "I would have gotten you something to eat but all they had left was bagels and I know you don't like anything that isn't covered in sugar."
Again, Jane said nothing. Still focused on the drawings in front of her. Reade sipped his tea, glancing down towards the angry black lies that littered Jane's sketch book, the image of a man glaring at him from the dull white pages. He frowned as he inspected the picture more closely, noticing the almost obsessive attention to detail in the man's suit or the lifelike detail that Jane had captured on the man's hands. Every scar, blemish and wrinkle perfectly captured, down to the tiniest inscription on the ring he wore on his index finger. It was however, his face that made Reade shiver. A mass of dark angry scribbles and the faintest outline of any discerning facial features.
Reade tore his eyes away from the drawing, risking a glance at Jane's face. He always found it fascinating, watching her draw. She would never blink, not once. Never look up and never make a sound. The only movement she ever made would be the obsessive shaking of her left leg and the smooth gliding of her hands over the paper.
Reade found it mesmerising and unsettling at the same time.
"Who is that?" He finally asked. He found himself tensing when Jane stopped abruptly, her vibrant green eyes blinking twice before moving to meet his own. She bit her lip, moving her gaze back towards the faceless man. She shook her head slowly.
"I don't know." She admitted. "I know he was someone at the orphanage." Jane continued. Her lead stained hands tracing the featureless outlines of his face. "I also know he was a cruel…evil man."
Jane slowly flipped through her sketchbook, the faceless man decorating half of the pages.
"I see him in my dreams every night. Same suit, same ring, same voice." Jane frowned, her eyes narrowing. "But I can never remember his face."
Reade moved his eyes to glance at her face once again, watching as an array of emotions danced across her features. He thought about the nightmare he had had that morning, shivering as Joan's voice echoed in his head once more.
"Can I ask you a question Jane?"
Jane looked up from her drawing. Curious, friendly eyes gazing up at him and waiting for him to continue. She removed the earphone from her ear, Reade could hear the faint beat of country music from its speaker.
"I've been having these…flashbacks about something that happened to me as a kid." He began. Jane listened intently. "You know that whole coach Joan's business a while back." He stopped, taking a shuddering breath. He didn't have to say much more, by the expressions on Jane's face. She knew exactly what he was talking about.
"How do you cope?" He asked, leaning closer. "How do you deal with remembering everything that happened to you in your past. How do you deal with everything that's happened to you since crawling out of that bag?"
Jane thought for a moment, biting her lip.
"I don't." She finally said. Her voice breaking ever so slightly. "I try to keep myself as busy as I can. If' I'm busy, I won't sleep and if I don't sleep, then I won't dream…." She paused. Looking down towards her drawing. "If I don't dream…then I don't remember."
Reade remained silent.
"I hear talking always helps." She said.
"Does it work for you?" Reade asked. Jane shrugged, biting her lip.
"I wouldn't know." Reade could have sworn he saw her eyes shimmer with tears. "I sometimes talk to Borden, but most of the time it feels…forced." She said. Her fidgeting intensified. "And I don't think that my Mother is really the…comforting type." She smiled sadly. She cleared her throat, bit her lip then forced a smile.
"But, you have Tasha and Weller if you need to talk." Jane said. "and I am always here to listen…if you need me."
Reade frowned, moving his hand to cover Jane's.
"You know you can always talk to us Jane."
Jane chuckled. But it was not a happy sound. It was laced with sadness.
"I tried that. None of you really wanted to listen." Jane pulled her hand from Reade's moving once more to fidget with the wire of her earphones. "The best thing that I can do, is focus on taking down sandstorm." She swallowed hard. "Then what ever happens to me after that…happens."
"Look Jane." Reade began. He didn't know how to find the words to Jane's confession. "I know me and the guys have been…less than welcoming since you came back. I have seen how Sandstorm gets in people heads…I know you were just trying to help. Just trying to protect us." He stopped when she didn't look at him, sighing. "It's all you've ever done. Protect us, even after…" he stopped himself once more, not wanting to bring up the blacksite. He watched her for a moment as she turned back to her drawing, picking up the pen and continuing to shade.
"All I'm saying. Is if you ever need to talk. I'm here." Reade rubbed his neck, feeling as if he wasn't getting through to her. He risked touching her arm, touching the tiny bit of exposed skin of her wrist. She stopped drawing, her eyes moving to his hand with a strange expression. Reade wasn't sure if she was going to cry, or rip his arm out of its socket.
"It can be our thing." He explained. "Once a week, we can meet up, have a few drinks and just…talk."
Jane blinked rapidly, her expression becoming confused…un-trusting.
"Why?" She asked, moving her shimmering eyes to look at him. Reade's heart broke. They had treated her like nothing but a criminal ever since she had gotten back. She had been alone for so long, trapped in her own mind, she didn't understand anyone being half decent to her. Reade sighed.
"Because you're my friend Jane…and friends help each other."
Jane's chin trembled as she looked away from him, her jaw clenching. Reade smiled sadly at her.
"So what do you say. After work we'll grab a few beers and just…talk."
Turning to face him with wet cheeks, Jane smiled, nodding her head.
"I'd like that a lot."
Hope you enjoyed it! More to come!
Best Wishes to you all
A.W
