And here is the ending of this story! Now I can finally get back to find your way back to me and focus on the ending on that one. Thank you all so much for the support and love it means so much to me.
His scream is a horrible, deafening call of torment. It rattles her mind, bouncing her between now and back in his cell when Malcolm had done just the same. The gun clatters to the floor as Martin falls into her, his weight threatening to pull her down with him. His arms wrap around her, desperate to stay standing but it's useless. The tangled embrace jerks her shoulder, tears of horror and pain building behind her eyes.
The smell of blood stings her nose, the warmth on her hand causes it to shake as she pulls the knife out of him. Strong arms around her abdomen wrench her away before she can fall. They're the only thing that holds her upright when her legs threaten to give in. She briefly recognizes that it's Gil when he sends the gun sliding across the floor with a kick. It's far out of the reach of Martin who sits propped up against the wall.
"Jess, sweetheart. Let go." Gil's voice is next to her ear, gently coaxing her. She can't let go. If she does then everything will fall apart. She can't. "The knife." She connects the meaning, her eyes falling down to the blood stained knife still held tightly in her hand. It takes more effort than she wants to before it clangs loudly off the floor before being knocked away as well.
She tries to breathe, to pull any air into her lungs but it feels like the walls are closing in on her. Nothing concrete remains anymore other than the sight of Martin, bleeding and in pain. Because of her.
She did this.
Her mind wanders to Ainsley, how Malcolm had described her after it happened. Her mind completely detached from her body. Unsure of her surroundings. Unsure of her actions.
Jessica is all too aware.
She stabbed him, god she stabbed him. What has she done?
"Jess." Gil sounds more alarmed, she doesn't even register that she'd been fighting against his grip until then. "Listen to me."
She can't. She can't. Not when she can't hear anything over the labored breathing and her own thundering heart. Not when her mind is racing so quickly that it's making her feel like she could tip over at any second. Not when the air in the room feels way too thin.
It's the laugh that cuts through her panic. A wheezing, breathless laugh coming from the crumpled figure with the all too horrible realization that Martin is still alive and he's laughing.
"Jessie." Gil tightens his arms around her, coming to the same realization at once. "I always knew you had it in you."
"Come on, Jess." He's trying to pull her away but her legs are refusing to cooperate. Every step drags her helplessly along the ground. "We have to go."
He smiles, the proud one that he gave her after every accomplishment that Malcolm or Ainsley did. With Malcolm's first words, Ainsley's first steps before she crashed into his arms. Her body began shaking beyond her control with Gil the only thing holding the broken pieces of her together. "Oh, we could have been great together."
She wants to scream but every part of her has locked up. Finally, Gil is able to drag her from the room and into the next, placing her on the sofa as gently as he can. He sits with her until the paramedics come along with a hefty amount of police.
She pretends not to see the pitied looks as Dani passes her.
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She's sitting outside on the back of the ambulance as another rushes Martin away to the hospital. She's only half listening to the paramedic in front of her giving her instructions on how to care for her shoulder, which turns out, had dislocated when she fell. Her eyes linger on the spot where the other had driven away. Martin's words still echo in her mind long after he's gone.
He would live.
The words from the paramedics were meant to be an assurance. A part of her hates herself for wishing he had died in that house. At least then the nightmare would be over. His ghost would join the 24 others that called her name at night but at least he couldn't possibly cause them any more pain.
Right?
"Mom!" She hears the simultaneous shouts breaking her out of the trance. Ainsley and Malcolm are running towards her, the former a few steps behind as Malcolm's legs carry him farther with fewer steps. Her son envelops her in a tight embrace only pulling back when she hisses in pain. She tried to hold it in but when he made contact with the shoulder it just came out.
His eyes shine with guilt but it's quickly overshadowed by Ainsley crashing into the both of them, holding them close. Malcolm settles back into the hug again but he can feel his eyes on her. When they pull away she's bombarded with questions.
"What were you thinking?"
"Was he really there the entire time?"
"What exactly was your plan?"
"How did the cops not find him?"
"Did you even have a plan?"
"Did you really stab dad?"
That question halts everything to a stop with Malcolm looking at Ainsley in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. It makes a laugh bubble inside her, but its quickly snuffed by her reality hitting her again.
"Malcolm, Ainsley." They both look up to Gil calling their names. He's walking back over, finally finished giving his statement to Dani about what had happened. A perfectly cut and dry version that the events were no more than self defense.
Then why did she still have so many questions?
"Will you go get your mother and I some food? Preferably Mel's Diner if they're not too busy."
"But-" Ainsley's protests are cut off by Malcolm's hand on her shoulder. He gives her a knowing look, it's a feeling he had tried to spare his mother from over a year ago. Complete understanding mixed with underlying sadness. At least now he was far away from them.
Yet she wonders how long before he will come to haunt them again.
Malcolm pulls Ainsley away with a hand on her arm, she sees them talking in a hushed tone to each other. It doesn't take much to know they're talking about her. Quiet wonderings of how much she remembers, what made her snap, and how she managed to get that close.
"Jess." Gil calls to her now, a gentle hand on her thigh. The touch alone brings tears to her eyes. She can't look at him. She takes a deep breath, expecting to see that same fear and pity in his gaze. The ones that all of Malcolm's colleagues seemed to have when looking at her. Knowing that another Whitly had snapped. That they've become no better than the surgeon himself. "Sweetheart."
He says it with such softness that she looks up at him. There's no pity in his eyes, no fear. Even Malcolm had looked so afraid, his words about Ainsley resounding in her mind.
We might lose her.
"Hey, look at me." She hadn't even realized she'd looked away again. His gaze is as gentle as his touch. "You saved me. That's what happened there, nothing else. Got it?" She shakes her head, no that's not true. She stabbed Martin, her ex husband, the father of her children. She did this. "Jessica," Her name is harsher this time, bringing her more to a focus. "He was angry and armed. You did what you had to."
"I didn't want to." She whispers.
"I know." She tries to breath but it comes out choked. Like the world has a grip around her throat. "Let go." She blinks in confusion, she's not holding onto anything this time. What the hell could she possibly let go of. "It's ok, Jess. I've got you." His hand comes to brush through her hair. "Let go."
Sobs wrack her shoulders as she leans her head into his chest. He wraps his arms around her and for the first time in a week she feels safe.
