Disclaimer: I don't own.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews! 3 more chapters (I think). I really, really appreciate you guys reading and reviewing...and I hope (despite the angst) that you're enjoying the story!

For Her Sake

Chapter 19 - So Cold

He's Not Gone

The next morning, Jackie's apartment

"Jackie, you're not gonna trick me into saying it."

Jackie lay on her uninjured side, snuggled under the bed covers and skin to skin with Steven. She giggled as she traced her fingers over his bare chest. "Just play the game, Steven. Its not like you're actually saying it. You're just repeating what I say. Like a parrot."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, boy. Just what I've always wanted to be. A parrot."

She kissed his shoulder. "A very sexy parrot, Steven." He sighed, and she knew she'd won. "Okay. I'll spell it again." On his stomach, with just enough pressure so as not to tickle him, she wrote her message, the looked at his eyes, They rested on her, with the annoyed, amused, affectionate mix she was so used to. She loved that look, because she knew it meant that she'd gotten under his skin. Luckily, she got that look often. "So?"

Another sigh, indicating his surrende. "If I do this, you have to do something for me. And by something, I mean something naked."

Jackie began to slide her hand down his stomach. Slowly. Oh, so slowly. And he smiled. Of course. She let her hand rest just below his belly button. "Come on, Steven."

"Fine. But I'm not saying it saying it."

"Steven…."

"I love you. You wrote I love you."

Her hand dipped lower, the tips of her fingers teasing the roughened hair. He groaned, and she smirked. "And I do." She made tiny circles, and his hips lifted, trying to move her hand. She resisted. "You feel that way too, don't you, Steven?" Her pinky extended, and brushed his tip, making him groan again, shift again.

"Jackie…"

"You love me, don't you Steven? And you want me to know it." She put all of her fingertips on him, but almost too lightly for him to truly feel, just enough for him to sense.

"Damn it, Jackie, just…"

"All you have to do is just tell me, baby, and then I'll make you very, very happy."

"I… damn it! I love you, okay?"

She smiled, inwardly dancing like a schoolgirl, outwardly keeping cool. She wrapped her hand around him and began doing just what he wanted. And this time when he moaned, it was pure ecstasy.

Jackie's eyes fluttered, much as she tried to keep them closed, to cling to sleep and the dream. It was a rare one, a replay of what had actually happened, and she was enjoying it only slightly less the second time around. She sighed and burrowed her body deeper into the mattress, squinting as she gave in and allowed her eyelids to rise. Light. Must be morning. Had she slept that long? Why hadn't Steven woken her up? She rolled her head to the right and noticed that no one was next to her.

Sitting up, she winced. Her body felt battered, her ribs burned, her head throbbed. She nearly flopped back down in her bed, but heard soft voices from the living room. Fez had probably come home, and Steven was probably trying to get him to go away so they could pick up where they'd left off yesterday. She looked down and noticed that she was still wearing Steven's coat. Pulling the collar up to her nose, she smiled and inhaled his masculine, musky tinged with pot and tobacco scent.

She got out of bed, stretching as she walked to the door. "Steven?" she called. Maybe she could talk him into making her breakfast, although maybe she should make him breakfast. She'd learned how to pour a mean bowl of cereal. She could cut some strawberries for it. His favorite berry. Or bananas. He liked bananas. Actually, he liked comparing himself to bananas. She walked out into the living room, a wicked smile on her face. Maybe later she'd go buy the biggest bananas she could find just to play with him. Of course he'd out lengthen, out thicken, and definitely out sexy any banana any day.

"Someone has to tell her."

"I'm not going to. You should, Donna."

"I think Fez should. Or you, Mrs. Forman."

Jackie cleared her throat, and the group of people standing in the middle of her living room. Donna. Eric. Fez. Michael. Mrs. Forman. Mr. Forman. But not Steven. They turned, stared at her, and she frowned. Every single one of them looked pale. Every single one of them, including the boys, including Mr. Forman, had red-rimmed eyes. She looked down at herself. All she was wearing was Steven's jacket and a tee shirt. She pulled the jacket closed. "What's going on?"

No one answered. Jackie stared at each one. Donna covered her mouth and turned her face into Eric's shoulder. Eric closed his eyes. Mrs. Forman held her son's hand and looked down, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Mr. Forman looked up at the ceiling, his lips pursing, jaw twitching. Michael stared at the floor, shaking his head slowly. Fez's head hung, and he lifted his hands to his face. His shoulders shook with silent sobs.

And her stomach turned sour. She licked her lips, their dryness suddenly painful. She shivered, and her hands slid to opposite sides of her waist. Her arms weren't as powerful as his. Weren't as strong. Or as warm. And they did her no good at all. Cold burned up and down, from her toes to her ears. Everywhere in between. "What…what's going on? Where's Steven?"

Again, no answer.

Sick of being ignored, and a little creeped out by the others' behavior, Jackie rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll just go call Steven. He'll tell me what's going on." She turned and headed back to her bedroom. What in the hell is wrong with them? Why are they all so upset?

"Jackie, wait! You can't call Hyde!"

Jackie stopped, another chill rushing her spine, and slowly turned. Donna stared at her, her face flushed, cheeks streaked with dampness. Something is really wrong. Really, really wrong. She licked her lips again. "Why not?"

Donna glanced back at the others, and Eric nodded encouragingly at her. She took a deep breath and took the few steps to her best friend, feeling as if she'd just walked over burning coals. She took Jackie's hands. "It's just…" She faltered and looked down. "There's…there's been an accident." She looked up, and Jackie's brow furrowed. Fast, Donna, like taking off a band-aid. Say it quick, then it's over. And then Jackie's hell begins. "Grooves…it…there was a fire, and…" Her eyes closed; she could still see it. The smoke, the flames. The El Camino. Eric running toward the building, screaming Hyde's name. Kelso pulling him back. With another deep breath, she opened her eyes, tear-filled and foggy, she could hardly see her best friend. "Hyde…he didn't make it out."

Jackie smiled, a tiny snicker escaping her lips. "What? He didn't make it out of what? What are you talking about?"

Donna looked helplessly back at the others, dropping Jackie's hands, and Red, with a slight cough, stepped forward. "Jackie," he said, his voice gentle, breaking slightly. He stood in front of the girl and took her shoulders. "There was an explosion at Grooves last night. Steven was inside." He paused, his eyes locked on the tiny girl's blank expression, and sighed heavily. He'd have to be blunt. And damn it, he didn't' want to. "Jackie, Steven…" He swallowed hard. "Steven died last night."

Time stopped and hung heavily in the room, cutting off all movement, all sound, and for some, all sight. Black flooded Jackie's eyes.

But only for a moment.

And then she started to laugh.

She backed away from Mr. Forman, giggling softly, her hand pressed to her chest. "Oh god, you guys! For a second there, I believed you. But you're joking. You have to be joking. My Steven isn't dead. He's just…He's probably out buying me more flowers." She gasped. "Oh! Maybe he flew to the Netherlands to pick me some tulips! I mean, he always said he wanted to go to Amsterdam. And I love tulips."

Red shook his head and approached her. "Jackie, he's gone."

Jackie again backed up, her heart beginning to race. "No. I mean, yeah, he's gone, but he'll be back soon." Panic stirred in her stomach as her eyes grazed the others. They all stared, all pale, no smiles, no understanding or agreement, only tears. Her feet slipped from her, moving her backwards. "No, he's just…" Jaggedness crushed her chest, and though she tried, she couldn't quite breathe. "He's just embarrassed about how sweet he's been to me. Probably just wanted to burn us all to remind us that he's a badass." She nodded, her movements jerky, her words speeding up and shredding at the ends. "Yeah, that's all it is. It's just one huge burn." She tried to laugh.

Instead, her lungs produced rasping sobs. She stumbled blindly backwards, crying out when she hit the breakfast bar. Her eyes, suddenly wet and blurry, watched as at least two people began to approach her, and she raised her hand. "No. No. NO!"

Her eyes closed. Blackness everywhere, in her eyes, in her soul, where her heart was tearing open. And it was so cold. So damn cold.

Steven, where are you? Why aren't you here? Did you think this would be funny? You ass! You just had to do this, didn't you? You just had to prove to yourself that you're still Steven Hyde, the cool, huh? It's not funny! God, are you really so ashamed of me? That you love me? So ashamed that you had to concoct this whole scheme to prove how cool you still are? You BASTARD, Steven!

"Jackie. You have to listen to me, sweetie."

She didn't open her eyes. Didn't want to see their faces. Didn't want to see the look in Mrs. Forman's eyes. Afraid of what it all meant, of what the cold, growing more intense by the second, meant.

"Honey, I know you don't want to believe it. None of us do."

Not even Mrs. Forman's soothing voice made the cold go away.

She needed to move. Leave. Go anywhere. Away from these people that kept telling her lies.

Her eyes opened, and her stiff limbs moved, brushing past Mrs. Forman, Mr. Forman, the others. Nothing mattered but escape. She reached the door, the world around her spinning so fast she noticed nothing but streaks of light, lines of color.

"Where are you going, Jackie?"

She ignored whoever asked the question, thinking the answer as she left the apartment.

I'm going to find Steven. Because he's not gone. He's NOT gone.

His Glasses

How she'd gotten there, she couldn't remember. Maybe she'd walked. Maybe Michael had tried to stop her and she'd kicked him, yelled at him and the others until one of them agreed to take her.

She shivered. It was so cold, despite the sun hanging high and bright in the sky.

She stood in front of the scorched ruins of her boyfriend's record store. Where the walls had once stood now lay uneven lines of blackened dry wall and wood remnants. In between those lines, a mess of records shattered into tiny pieces, furniture blown to near bits, everything black, everything shriveled. Everything now cold after burning so hot.

She saw a huge beam, one of the metal ones that had supported the store's ceilings, over near the smattering of glass that had once been Steven's counter. The cash register, no longer gray, no longer square shaped.

The putrid scent of disaster hovered over the skeleton of Grooves. Vomit rushed to her throat, burning her, but she held it in. Swallowed it. Took the pain.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder; Jackie didn't turn to see who it was.

"They…they found…" Donna cleared her throat, didn't look at Jackie, but stared at the ruins. She wondered why no one was here cleaning up the mess. Probably couldn't until the investigation was done. "They found…"

"What did they find?" Jackie didn't recognize her voice, hardly realized she'd spoken.

"Bones. And…ashes. Bits of his clothing…parts of his shoes." Jackie didn't look at her, and Donna, as much as it hurt, as much as she wanted not to have to tell her this, continued, with fresh and hot tears in her eyes. "The skull was broken. They think…they think the beam hit him…and that's why he couldn't get out."

Jackie shook her head. "No. He's not…" She looked at Donna, her eyes cold, her heart cold. "He's not. He got out."

Donna tried to catch Jackie's arm but missed. "Jackie, wait, you can't go…" She turned to Eric. "Eric, stop her. She can't go in there. It's not safe."

Eric shook his head. "Maybe she should." He looked at his girlfriend, his eyes swollen. "Maybe then she'll realize that he's…." He closed his eyes and looked down, his hands clenching into fists. "Oh, god."

Donna nodded, tears falling from her eyes as she watched Jackie, still only dressed in Hyde's sports coat, though they'd managed to get slippers on her feet, tread through the bits and pieces that only twenty four hours ago had been Grooves. She wore a stone cold expression on her face, looking around her in some eerie sense of wonder. Donna covered her mouth to keep the sobs inside. Jackie drifted, as if pulled, towards where the counter used to be. The midget stopped, looked down, then bent down and picked something up. Even from the fifty feet, Donna heard the gasp Jackie released, and she took a deep breath. "I'm going with her." She quickly followed in her friend's footsteps, stopped just a few feet from where Jackie was crouched. "Jackie?"

Jackie stared at the thin, charred metal she held. And now, she felt nothing but cold. Her entire body trembled. No warmth in the air. No warmth anywhere. No blood flowing through her veins. No movement of her heart. No feeling in any part of her.

"What are you holding?"

Jackie didn't look at her. Didn't look away from the burned glasses frame she held. His. She knew it was his. His glasses. Steven's glasses.

"Oh…those are…"

Jackie nodded. "His glasses," she whispered. "His…glass…"

The weakened metal twisted in her shaking hands, and before she could breathe, the precious glasses she held fell apart, the metal breaking into pieces, falling to the charbroiled ground.

When the last piece of his glasses, her Puddin' Pop's glasses, the glasses he'd never go anywhere without, hit the ground, she screamed. His name, the word no, his name. His name. His name.

She collapsed to the floor, landing on her broken ribs, not giving a damn. Still screaming, she rolled to her stomach and buried her face in the ash, near the broken pieces of Steven's glasses.

This was where he must have been, must have landed right here. Must have taken his last breath here.

Tear raged out of her, the cold mixing with the heat of anger and pain, making her both tremble and lash out at the ground with balled fists and slippered feet.

His glasses. He'd never leave his glasses. Never.

"Jackie, stop! Stop! Eric, come help me!"

Donna winced as she kneeled and tried to settle the flailing Jackie. She couldn't, Jackie was too strong, surprisingly enough, and Donna quickly gave up. She sank back to her rear end and watched Jackie, listened to her hoarse screams, sometimes muffled, other times clear as day. Eric sat down next to her, and she threw herself into his arms, unable to stop the onslaught of tears. Unable to not cry for the friend who'd lost his life or for the friend who'd lost the love of her life.

Glasses and A Kitten

Two days later

"Jackie?"

Jackie stood in her bedroom, looking out the window at the day outside. It was beautiful. Sunny, with a few fluffy clouds. The kind of day a normal person would want to be outside, breathing the fresh and sweet air.

Sky the color of Steven's eyes. So blue. A warm blue, an inviting blue, the blue she'd always dived into without caring about ever coming up for air.

It was warm outside, and yet, she was freezing cold. So cold.

She pulled the collar of Steven's jacket up to her nose and sniffed. Still there. He was still there, though fading more and more each time she inhaled against it.

"Jackie, someone just dropped off a package for you. You want it?"

She shrugged. She hadn't said anything for two days. Hadn't wanted to. Hadn't been able to. The cold had frozen her voice, frozen everything in her except the tears and brutal gasps her body seemed to desperately need.

Donna walked in and held the box out to Jackie. "It's from a jewelry store, Jackie." Jackie said nothing, just stared at the floor. "You want me to open it?" She wasn't sure if Jackie nodded, the movement was so slight, but she decided to take it as a yes. "Okay." She opened the box and smiled, her eyes misting with tears. It was from Hyde, obviously. "It's a necklace, Jackie. Gold and shiny." She fingered the two pendants that hung from the delicate chain. "With two pendants. A pair of glasses…" She smiled. Yep. From Hyde. "And a kitten." She looked at Jackie, who at least was looking up and at her, her eyes a little wider. "You want to see it?"

This time the nod was a real nod, and Donna brought the box over to Jackie.

Jackie took it and stared down at the two pendants. Gold, diamond cut, a pair of glasses and a kitten that hung close together from the chain. Touched each other. Him and her. Steven and Jackie.

He was never coming back.

Only the kitten still lived.

She closed the box, collapsing into bitter tears. She stumbled to her bed and fell on it, clutching the box to her chest. "Ste….Steven…Ste…." The sobs hurt so much. "STEVEN!"

He was gone. Forever.

He didn't breathe the way she did. Didn't see the way she did. Didn't feel the way she did.

Gone.

Gone….never coming back….she'd never touch him, never see him, never smile at him…never love him…he'd never hold her…never love her…never kiss her, tickle her…

"STEVEN!"

She was so damn cold.

Donna lay down behind the little ball on the bed and put her arms around Jackie. "God, Jackie, I know," she whispered. "I know." She tried to hold Jackie still, but couldn't. This girl was shuddering with almost seizure like force.

The truth was, though, that she didn't. She'd lost one of her best friends. But Jackie…she'd lost the man she loved with a passion that Donna had never quite understood.

Jackie had lost her Steven, and the world she'd spent the past few years dreaming of.

Gotta Do Something

The next day, Point Place Memorial Cemetery

Sammy frowned as he watched the tiny girl standing alone at the freshly inserted headstone. He stood behind a mausoleum, peeking around the side, about a hundred feet away, out of her sight. The others gathered were drifting away, and she'd swatted the few who'd tried to stay with her, tried to hold her. She'd yelled, too, though he hadn't quite heard what she'd said. The sight of her crying, falling to her knees and pounding on the ground, made his chest ache. "We gotta do something," he hissed to his partner. "This is breaking her heart."

Carl nodded. "We will." He watched the girl. Funny. He'd grown to have a bit of a soft spot for her, too. Must be all the stories Sammy told her about his daughter. And also probably the hatred he'd developed for Jack Burkhart. That girl was the key to getting just revenge on Mr. High and Mighty Burkhart. He nodded again, his lips pressed together grimly. "We will. Just as soon as we find out what the hell happened. And how to fix it."

Sammy sighed, and watched the little girl sadly. "Hope we figure it out quick." He closed his eyes. "For her sake."