Everything Is Illuminated
Today - just one day before Christmas Eve - Jo was a woman on a mission. She'd surprised herself, last night, when she'd received the copy of Roger Winters' shipping receipt for the crib at the lake house and made a snap decision to go to the store in Portland the next day, but the next morning she'd dutifully prepared herself to spend a few hours outside of Eureka.
She'd left the infirmary long before most people even arrived at GD, leaving an explanatory note that explained almost nothing at all by Zane's bedside table. Gone to Portland, it read. Back in a few hours. The fact of the matter was that Jo herself had no real explanation, just the urge to go see the place where Zane had found that beautiful - mahogany, as it turned out - crib.
That was how she'd found herself standing in front of The Wishing Tree Antique Shop in downtown Portland. Jo double-checked the packing slip unnecessarily, and then looked back up at the unassuming store front. She shrugged to herself.
"Alright then," she muttered, before striding the last three feet to pull open the door.
The interior was no more imposing than the exterior, with that peculiar not-quite-dusty but still old quality which it seemed, in Jo's experience, that all antique stores shared. She hesitated on the threshold - who was she kidding? This had never been her thing. She belonged on a shooting range somewhere, not in a shop full of delicate dishware that she couldn't even cook well enough to fill up. But the thought of Zane lying in that hospital bed, so quiet and still, propelled her forward. If he could risk his life like that, then she could risk – well. Whatever it was that she was risking. Whatever was making her heart pound this way.
Jo loosened her scarf and unbuttoned her wool peacoat reflexively as the warmth of the small store registered. As her fingers darted over the buttons, she glanced around the cluttered store. Knick-knacks and dishware were on every available surface, and there were more than enough surfaces to choose from. Dining tables, side tables, shelves and hutches seemed to cover every square inch of the store, and Jo's spirit quailed at the thought of trying to find a specific item in the chaos.
"Can I help you?" A warm voice startled Jo, and she returned her eyes to the floor space around her, only to discover a petite silver haired woman standing before her, her piercing blue eyes studying Jo intently. "Claire Tully. I'm the owner." She was one of those rare women who only become more striking with age. Jo opened her mouth with surprise, shut it, then opened it again.
"...yes," she decided with some hesitation. The older woman watched her closely. "My..." She considered the other woman carefully before settling on Zane's half-truth, "...fiancé purchased a crib here recently." She indicated the shipping receipt clutched in her hand.
"I hope there wasn't anything wrong with it?" The older woman asked solicitously. Jo's eyes widened a fraction.
"No! No, it's wonderful, really. Actually, I was wondering if you might have more, or something similar." Jo handed her the shipping receipt, and the older woman studied it for a moment before looking up, her expression thoughtful.
"We may at that," she said finally. "If you'd follow me?" She turned and began to navigate the spaces between tables, leading Jo on a winding path to the far end of the store.
There was a smattering of beds, toward the back of the store; the surfaces here seemed jarringly bare in comparison to the tables by the front. The petite older woman turned back to study Jo momentarily.
"We have only a few cribs," she explained unnecessarily, as Jo gazed behind her, "and just the one crib and changing table set, now. But I would recommend this one." Jo's eyes roamed over the cribs. All three were handsome pieces of work, there was no doubt about that, but one in particular drew her eyes. It was a gorgeous, dark mahogany with glossy embellishments on the back board which rose high on the long side of the crib.
For some reason she couldn't pinpoint, it reminded Jo inescapably of her mother, and she felt her eyes sting.
"I'll take it," she said abruptly, clearing her throat when what she really wanted was to clear her mind. "The changing table, too." The older woman smiled pleasantly, though her sharp blues eyes never faltered in their study of Jo's face.
"Is there anything else, or would you like me to ring you up?" She asked.
"Oh - no," Jo said. "If you could ring me up, that would be great." She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, glancing at the cribs once more.
"Very well," Mrs. Tully murmured. "If you'd just follow me this way." She led Jo back through the store to a counter and register placed against the wall. She stepped behind the counter and leaned over to retrieve an empty sales slip and tag.
"Name and address?" She asked briskly.
"Josefina Lupo," she spelled her first name for the older woman's benefit, "4020 Coriolis Loop, Eureka, Oregon." Jo rattled off Eureka's zip code quickly, her mind drifting back to Zane in the infirmary, her hand absently pressed to her abdomen. In front of her, Mrs. Tully's gaze sharpened in response to her home address.
"Eureka, you said?" She asked, drawing Jo's focus back into the room.
"Yes," Jo said shortly, reluctant as always to draw the attention of outsiders to the bottled crazy she called a hometown. But the older woman's interest seemed to lie elsewhere.
"I remember your fiancé. A well built, handsome young man, yes? Striking blue eyes. I was surprised to see him in an antique store." Jo smiled at the image presented by the older woman's words, though her smile was tainted with wistfulness.
"I imagine the two of you will make beautiful babies," Mrs. Tully continued, her eyes skimming the curve of Jo's expanding waist. The easy honesty of the compliment made Jo glance down, biting her lip. Zane might not even see his firstborn - what were the odds they'd ever find themselves with more than one child? She rallied herself carefully - the other woman meant well, after all - and plastered a smile she didn't feel to her face before looking back up.
"Thank you," she said. The other woman nodded, but it was clear she'd seen Jo's reflexive first response. She didn't address it.
"Now, what kind of shipping would you like to use?" Mrs. Tully continued calmly.
"Oh, I'll have someone come by to pick it up," Jo said quickly. It wasn't often that outsiders found themselves in Eureka after all, and they preferred to keep it that way. Non-disclosure forms could only do so much. Mrs. Tully gave her a curious look but said nothing, beginning to write up a receipt.
"Now, your fiancé's name is Zane, isn't it?" She asked casually, but continued without waiting for confirmation. "An unusual name. Literary, I believe." Jo kept her smile plastered on by sheer force of will.
"His mother is an English literature professor," she said shortly. Mrs. Tully nodded, handing her the receipt. Jo gave her a quick nod and turned to go, eager now to get back to the infirmary.
"Josefina." The single word was soft, well-intended, and spoken in exactly the tone her mother used to use for the name Jo had avoided using since her mother's death. Jo froze in place and turned around to face the speaker. Claire Tully gave her a sympathetic smile.
"This, too, shall pass." Jo opened her mouth, closed it again, and fled.
Jo was still shaken by the time she made it back to Eureka, and consequently she was unprepared to find Zoe and Daniel waiting for her in the infirmary. She froze on her second step into the infirmary, when Zoe spotted her and shot up from her chair by Zane's bed.
"Jo! Where the hell have you been?" She demanded. Behind her, Daniel's expression was rueful: no doubt predicting Jo's response. But Daniel didn't have the full picture, and when Jo did respond it was with exhaustion and resignation rather than the defiance he'd been expecting.
"Portland," Jo said simply, not quite looking Zoe in the eye. "It doesn't matter. Were you waiting to get lunch?" Zoe shot her an incredulous look before glancing back to Daniel for support, but he gave her an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Zoe deflated almost visibly.
"Um, yeah, we were going to get lunch. Do you - d'you want to come, or I could bring something back for you...?" Zoe trailed off. Jo gave her a half-hearted smile.
"Cafe Diem, then, unless you have any objections." Jo turned on her heel and back out the infirmary door. In her wake, Zoe and Daniel exchanged a swift glance which read "What did I miss?" before following.
Lunch went poorly. By the time they made it to Cafe Diem, Jo had retreated into herself and away from their over-attentiveness, to what seemed like a near-catatonic state. Protectiveness seemed to have spurred Daniel into the opposite direction, all ill-temper and snarls at well-meaning passers-by. Zoe had been torn between her worry from Jo and an annoyance with Daniel's attitude - these people were their friends, after all, and who did he think he was anyways? Being Jo's brother didn't give him carte blanch to be such an unmitigated ass to people who had just as much right to Jo as he did - after all, Jo had been theirs for well over four years. The last straw, at least from where Zoe stood, was when Fargo dropped by to talk to Jo and Daniel all but snarled at him before he backed off.
It had put Zoe in an ill temper of her own, the remainder of which still lingered when she woke unexpectedly that night. She blinked twice, adjusting to the darkness, then scowled and grabbed her fluffy red body pillow before flipping over to face the door. She wrapped herself like a prawn around the pillow and tugged her sheets up, burying her face in her favorite quilt. That was when she heard the feet shuffling past her door and realized it was less of a what that had woken her, and more of a whom. Her scowl deepened slightly. Jack Carter, unlike his daughter, was a sound sleeper, and Allison wasn't staying here tonight. There was only one possible culprit.
The footsteps faded away, and Zoe flopped onto her back with a sigh, her anger evaporating into a vague sense of guilt. Nobody had seemed inclined to give her a straight answer about Daniel Lupo's presence in Eureka - the man himself had been all too tightlipped about it - but it was obvious enough he cared about Jo, and Zoe supposed his apparent insomnia wasn't really his fault. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully before giving the clock a regretful look. It was late enough that you could just as easily call it early, but - he was their guest, after all. Zoe peeled herself away from her pillow and padded to her bedroom door barefoot.
Daniel's eyes were already fixed on the door to the kitchen when Zoe stepped into view, and she repressed a shiver. He was assessing her in a way Zoe had only ever seen from one other person - his sister. Was that predatory poise a family trait, Zoe wondered absently, or something they'd picked up in the military?
"I instructed S.A.R.A.H. not to wake you," Daniel said regretfully, shooting a reproachful look at the ceiling. Zoe stifled a smile. The man may be something of a cold fish in company, but she had to concede there were some things about Eureka that he'd adapted to quite readily. Though, if he still thought he had any control over what S.A.R.A.H did, he had a long way to go.
"She didn't," Zoe said simply, pulling out her own stool to settle at the counter. "Though for future reference, she doesn't really take orders. S.A.R.A.H., could I get some of that orange spice tea?"
"I didn't think I was that loud," Daniel said, his brow furrowed in thought. Zoe shrugged artlessly, the wide neck of her pajama top sliding low over one shoulder.
"I'm a light sleeper," she said. "When I'm at school I sleep with earplugs. But I didn't expect to need them here, so they're still out in Boston." She paused. "We left in kind of a hurry," she said as an afterthought, her mind turning to Jo.
"Right," Daniel said, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"She was acting oddly today, don't you think?" Zoe asked without thinking. Daniel furrowed his brow in response.
"Jo?" He verified. Zoe rolled her eyes.
"Who else?"
"You noticed that too?" He asked, sounding surprised. Zoe narrowed her eyes at him.
"I mean, it was kind of obvious, don't you think?" She asked, rhetorically. Daniel took a deep sip of his tea in lieu of a response, and Zoe took the opportunity to barrel forward hastily in the conversation.
"I couldn't believe the way she let you go all protective big brother on her ass. You've got to be like, what, four years younger than her?" Her tone was challenging, but Daniel seemed to take it in stride.
"Six," he said calmly. "We were real close growing up, though," he added. Zoe slid off her stool to grab the steaming mug of herbal tea. As she clambered back onto the stool, the steaming liquid splashed out of her mug and onto her fingers, making her hiss and drop the mug abruptly on the table, sticking her fingers into her mouth reflexively. She flushed when she noticed Daniel watching her.
"I should get a dish towel for that," she muttered, dropping her eyes away from his and slipping off her stool once more, this time with a haste born of embarrassment.
"So you were close as kids?" She prompted, hoping to distract from her discomfort as she reached for the drawer where S.A.R.A.H. kept their dish towels. Daniel was all too happy to oblige.
"Jo's probably told you we have two older brothers?" Daniel verified.
"Not exactly," Zoe muttered. Jo was notoriously tightlipped about her personal life, and the issue of family was one nut Zoe had yet to crack. Daniel, missing her muttered comment entirely, moved on with no real answer.
"Rico - Enrico - and Gabriel." He smiled absently into his mug. "They used to call us Runt and Shrimp when we were kids. He grinned, suddenly, his teeth brilliant against the caramel skin he shared with Jo, and it was as genuine as it was unexpected. Zoe sucked in a deep breath. "I was Runt, of course. If it weren't for Jo, I probably would've thought my name was Runt." His lips twitched with amusement. "It was always us against the world," he added absently, his eyes distant with memories. Zoe felt suddenly and unaccountably - it was her kitchen, after all! - as if she were intruding.
"I should get back to bed," she murmured, carrying her now-empty mug to the automatic dishwasher. On her way out, she paused at the doorway.
"Goodnight," she said quietly, before slipping from the kitchen. Daniel glanced up belatedly, after she had already vanished from the room.
"Goodnight," he echoed to the empty room.
The next morning found Jo sitting by Zane's bedside, in the same place she'd started her day yesterday - and the day before that, and the day before that. The privacy curtain hung by her head, pulled open to let in the light. She was still spending her nights in the infirmary, which required in turn early mornings to avoid the hustle and bustle as it transformed from her own personal fortress of solitude into a workplace.
From across the room, Allison caught her eye and redirected her path to stop before Jo, who was perched upon the edge of the bed. The sheets were crisply made, in typical military fashion. Jo was doing everything she could to make her stay in the infirmary as unobtrusive as possible.
A moment passed in silence, a testament to Jo's unwillingness to discuss whatever it was that Allison had on her mind. Allison was the first to break the silence.
"His vitals have improved, Jo," she said, her eyes straying to the man who remained pale and still in his bed. "I wouldn't be surprised if we saw him wake up any day now."
"But he hasn't," Jo stated flatly. She plucked at the sheets, refusing to look Allison in the eye.
"No, he hasn't," She agreed. There was a pause. "But it's my professional opinion he will. His brain activity looks unusual right now, but there is activity." She looked thoughtful. "I'll be interested to see what he has to say when he wakes." Jo gave her a sharp look.
"How so?" She asked briskly, trying not to give away how the thought affected her. Allison shrugged one shoulder.
"He attempted an experiment no-one has ever tried. I know Nathan would have been fascinated," she added, referencing her late fiancé's work. "The Akashic Field..." she trailed off, eyes distant, and Jo was certain she was thinking of another time, another place, another version of her son. The thought made her bristle slightly. She didn't want to understand the vagaries of time and space. She just wanted Zane to come back to her.
"But his experiment failed," she snapped. "Now all we can learn when he wakes up is whether or not he has permanent brain damage." Allison gave her a half-smile.
"Did it fail?" She questioned mildly. "None of us really understand how the Akashic Field works." Jo pursed her lips and looked back to Zane in silence. She'd never really given herself permission to consider the possibility, but - what if it did work? And another, more disquieting question - did she even want it to? In spite of all her misgivings, she'd been happy with this Zane. This Zane had risked everything to keep her, and their baby, safe – and then he'd gone ahead and risked his life to make her happy. She didn't want to lose their memories together again – to lose him again – even if it meant giving up their past, a past that felt increasingly unimportant. Still - the very thought of willingly surrendering that past felt dirty, disloyal to a person and a relationship she'd genuinely cherished, and Jo pushed it forcefully from her mind, exhaling with a sudden whoosh of air. Allison pressed a comforting hand to her shoulder and squeezed, startling Jo, before pushing off the bed to stand and walk away. She stopped after a few steps to look back where Jo remained, still as a statue, by Zane's bedside.
"Merry Christmas, Jo," she murmured gently before she turned and walked away.
It wasn't Christmas, of course - at least, not technically speaking. It was Christmas Eve, which carried implications of its own, not the least of which was the advent of GD's holiday party and endless holiday festivity at Cafe Diem. It was such festivity that Jo walked in on a few hours later at Cafe Diem.
She'd been reluctant to leave the infirmary, after her encounter yesterday and her words with Allison that morning, but everyone was going to be there and Carter had given her such a pleading look when he'd asked earlier that she'd found it hard to ignore him. That was how noon found her stepping through the swinging door into Café Diem, a chilly breeze snapping at her heels and rushing into the café behind her. The cafe was lively, though its population was diminished from the usual lunchtime crowd. Most of the inhabitants traveling for the holiday had already departed in the days prior; the few stragglers who remained were clearing out after GD's early closing that morning.
Jo found them in the back, gathered on a smattering of sofas and armchairs that had clearly been rearranged to their convenience. She hesitated for a minute, reluctant to face the relentless cheer of the holidays, until Carter glanced up and caught sight of her.
"Jo! You made it!" He exclaimed. Jo gave him a small smile in response.
"I did," she confirmed, before glancing around, looking for a chair. Before she could take another step, Fargo scrambled out of his chair to drag over a new seat.
'Here you go, Jo," he said uncomfortably, making an obvious effort not to stare at the bulge of her abdomen. Jo smiled at him, torn between surprise and amusement. She hadn't seen much of him since she'd gone public with the pregnancy, and since Zane's incident she knew he had been doing damage control on her behalf. Evidently, he hadn't had much time to acclimate to the recent changes to her appearance.
Jo slid her chair in between Zoe and Daniel and settled in. Grace, across from her, gave her a welcoming smile.
"How are you doing, Jo?" She asked warmly.
Jo squirmed subtly in her seat. Being friends with Carter had accustomed her to a degree of concern over her well-being and the occasional curious probe into her personal life, but even though she teased him sometimes about his 'girl talk,' the fact of the matter was she couldn't remember the last time she'd faced the persistent personal inquiries that were so frequently the purview of female relationships. Even Zoe trod lightly when she and Jo talked, and Zoe was like a sister to her. Jo had no idea what Grace's relationship with the Jo of this timeline had originally been, but based on what she had heard regarding the altered timeline Jo, she somehow doubted the other woman had shared much in the way of an intimate relationship with that Jo Lupo. Jo could only assume Grace's interest was all part and parcel of the changes that had rocked the woman's marriage.
"Good, thanks," she answered tightly. Henry leaned forward in the loveseat he was sharing with Grace.
"I have to say, Jo, you certainly are looking larger. Are you sure you're not having twins?" He asked, laughter in his voice.
"Henry!" Grace shot her husband a look, aghast. "I'm so sorry, Jo. Clearly this man was a bachelor for much too long." She apologized, but all of Jo's attention had gone to Allison. From the alarm on Jo's face it was obvious that the possibility of twins had never even occurred to her.
"Don't worry, Jo," Allison said hastily, answering her unspoken question. "There's only the one baby. I promise," she said, directing a stern look at Henry, whose eyes were twinkling unrepentantly.
Zoe cast a quick glance at Jo and, reading her expression, jumped into the conversation with a well-timed anecdote from the past semester. In short order, attention had shifted from Jo and her pregnancy to Zoe's exploits at Harvard. Jo sank into her seat, grateful for Zoe's intervention. She was just starting to relax and tune in to the conversation, when Jenna, with a particularly enthusiastic wave of her hands, sprayed Allison's blouse with sweet potato.
"...oh! Jenna!" Allison cut herself off with an exclamation of dismay, swiveling around in her seat to snatch at her small pile of napkins. She dapped at her blouse, frowning, before discarding the filthy napkin and glancing at the group surrounding her. Instinct born of thousands of years of evolution fixed her eyes on the only other mother in the group.
"Here, Jo, take Jenna for a second, would you?" She asked, and without waiting for a response pushed Jenna into Jo's arms. "I should go rinse this out," she said distractedly, glancing down at her blouse. She hurried off in the direction of the bathrooms, leaving Jo behind her, still frozen in place. Jenna began to fuss and squirm in her arms.
"Ah, Jo? I think you may be holding her too tightly," Grace warned her gently. Jo glanced down and loosened her fingers carefully when she saw how tightly she'd been gripping they baby. "I can take her," Grace offered.
"I'm fine," snapped Jo defensively, though she loosened her fingers. She glanced down at the toddler's face and Jenna stared back, her brown eyes wide and guileless. Jo found herself searching for something of Nathan Stark in her face, but it was all Allison: dark eyes and creamy skin the color of cafe au lait. If there was anything of Nathan Stark in there, it was well buried for now. Even in this last piece of him he was nothing but a faded memory. Jo felt a little sick at the thought. Would she hold her own baby one day and find herself searching for traces of the man she'd loved and lost? The alternative Allison had suggested – a Zane who woke up with no memory of their past few months together – only made her ache inside with guilt and sadness.
Jenna, having somehow procured a sugar packet, reached it in a questing hand toward Jo's face. She poked at Jo's closed lips with a corner of the packet.
"Po?" She said, her tone querying. Jo, taken by surprise, opened her mouth reflexively only to have the sugar packet stuffed in. She spat it back out noisily, freeing a hand to wipe at her mouth, and Jenna stared at her until Jo began to feel uncomfortable.
Then -
"Po!" Jenna declared, holding up a new sugar packet. Jo blinked - how on earth had she - but across the coffee table, Carter looked smug. Jo narrowed her eyes.
"You're supplying her with ammunition, aren't you?"
Carter was saved by Allison's reappearance, now with a damp orange spot on her blouse.
"Thanks, Jo," she said, looking harried. "That's the second time today," she complained as she pulled Jenna out of Jo's arms. "Jenna is into throwing things lately, isn't she?" She added rhetorically, her voice softening as she spoke to her daughter. Jo smiled politely, arms feeling unexpectedly bereft at the loss of that almost-comfortable weight.
Allison settled back in to her seat, and Jo caught Carter studying her from across the coffee table. She looked away and sighed inwardly, sensing an interrogation looming. Well, if he tried, the joke was on Carter. Jo didn't even know how she felt anymore.
When lunch finally came to an end, Jo made a swift exit, intending to make her escape while Carter was still preoccupied with Allison and Jenna – easy enough, or so she'd assumed.
"Jo, hey!" She heard Carter calling from behind her. At least she'd made it almost halfway down the sidewalk. Jo sighed before turning to face him, accepting the inevitable. He jogged over and skidded to a stop in front of her, pausing to take a couple deep breaths.
"Allison told me this morning that she thought Zane would wake up soon. Congratulations," he said. Jo gave him a tight smile, her stomach turning.
"Thanks," she said. Carter studied her, the excitement in his keen blue eyes fading.
"You're not jumping for joy," he stated, a little puzzled. "Why are you not jumping for joy?" Jo bit her lip and toyed with the fringe on her scarlet scarf, twisting it between her fingers.
"Of course I'm glad… joyful," she amended with a wry look. "It's just… I had never really wondered before, what would happen when he woke up, I was so focused on if." Carter raised his eyebrows.
"Allison says we won't know whether or not he succeeded until he wakes up," Jo explained softly. Understanding lit Carter's eyes. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
"You know, Jo, it's okay to want the life you've made with this Zane. The new timeline Zane," he clarified. Jo sighed and turned away from him, staring pensively at her feet at she resumed the walk to her car.
"It feels like, no matter what, I end up betraying one of them," she admitted quietly.
"Then I guess you stand accused of loving the guy enough to get past two years of lost history and the possibility of being sanctioned." Carter shot back. His expression was one of fond exasperation. Jo deflected.
"You know I never would have risked telling him if it was just about me," she defended unnecessarily. Carter just shook his head.
"You have a bad habit of getting in your own way, Jo," he sighed. "My advice? Just let it be. It is what it is." He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go. Promised Andy the afternoon off to see S.A.R.A.H." He shuddered dramatically before sending Jo a firm look. "Think about it." He said, and walked away, hands tucked into his pockets. Jo walked the final yards to her car herself, her mind spinning. She unlocked the car robotically, absently clinging to the doorframe to steady herself as she climbed into her seat. Keys in the ignition, the car came alive beneath her: but Jo remained still and silent, staring blankly at the space just above the dashboard.
It was a long time before she finally put the car into drive.
By the time Jo made it to the church service that evening, her mood had gone from panicked to contemplative. Carter's words from earlier were still rattling through her head. Was it really as easy as just letting go? Accepting that Zane was still Zane in all the ways that mattered? She'd grown to recognize that the past few months she shared with the Zane of the new timeline were just as important to her, if not more important to her, than the two years of relationship that preceded them. Maybe it really was just a matter of acceptance.
Still lost in thought, Jo fell into line among the admittedly few churchgoers in Eureka. The scent of evergreens reached her the moment she stepped through the front door. Garlands of pine were threaded from one end of the room to another, golden bows affixed at the height of every curve of garland. Above the garlands, in the alcove of each stained glass window, a fat white candle rested nestled into the center of a wreath. The soft light cast by the dancing flames flickered against the windows, making the images in the stained glass seem to come alive with motion. Jo took another deep breath and caught a hint of the musky scent of hot wax.
She slid into a pew toward the front of the church, unbuttoning her peacoat and removing it to reveal a midnight blue dress with a v neck and an empire waist: a concession to the increasingly prominent bulge of her belly and the discomfort it engendered when she wore her business suits. She wasn't required to wear business suits, of course, not on a normal day at GD and certainly not during the holiday party she would be attending next, but on a typical day she preferred them.
This Christmas did not even come close to qualifying as typical, and Jo sat stiffly as the churchgoing crowd milled about, filling into pews. She could almost feel the curious glances from her neighbors; it had become clear in past months that the new timeline Jo had not been one to frequent Eureka's one and only church. The fact that she was unexpectedly expecting had only contributed fuel to the metaphorical flame. Their curiosity was more pronounced than it had been in recent weeks, however, no doubt due to the addition of the more seasonal attendees of services who were not yet accustomed to her presence. Grace and Henry would be somewhere among the crowd, Jo knew, as would Allison with Jenna and Kevin. Zoe and Carter were the odd ones out, this time. She'd invited Daniel – to be polite, mostly; she'd long since accepted, even understood, his reasons for bowing out of religion – but he'd opted to spend his time at S.A.R.A.H. and meet up with her later as her date to GD's Christmas party.
Jo sank further into the pew with a small sigh of relief, reaching one hand behind her to massage the small of her back. From what she recalled of Allison's pregnancy with Jenna, she was in the early days yet, but already the changes in weight distribution on her petite frame were throwing off her workouts and producing a persistent ache in her lower back.
The pianist up front began to play, and Jo slipped her hand back onto her lap before straightening up in the pew. The bright tones of the piano were soothing, and after a few minutes passed Jo found herself relaxing in a way she hadn't managed since that before that tense flight back from Boston.
Her mind drifted, until she was jerked back to the present when the woman beside her cleared her throat awkwardly, catching Jo's attention only to hand her a small candle with a plastic holder to contain dripping wax. Jo took it and glanced around the room, realizing that most of the congregation members had already received their own candles. Up front, the soft glow of candles spread like a wave down the first aisle, and two candle bearers were just lighting the first candle of the second row, the two of them back to back in the middle aisle. The pianist waited until the candle bearers reached the row behind Jo before she began to lead the congregation in 'Silent Night.'
The glow of the candles spread through the crowd, until the warm glow of candlelight seemed to encase the sanctuary, the flames casting flickering light on the ornate arches which supported the ceiling. Something in Jo's chest contracted at the sight, making her feel a little breathless with an unnameable emotion. Only a few inches further, something fluttered just beneath her ribcage. It took Jo a minute to identify the same sensations she'd noticed the night she returned to Eureka. This time, more awake and considerably calmer, she splayed one hand against the mound of her waist. The baby's movements - Jo knew her body much too well to identify them as anything else - were still too faint to reach her hand, but she kept it there anyway, battling between the surreality of the moment and her quiet sense of awe.
The song drew to a close, and the motley congregation began to extinguish their candles, the light dissipating in patches across the room. The overhead lights came back on, and Jo realized with embarrassed dismay that the woman beside her was now eying her pensive expression and still-lit candle with a speculative look. She snatched her hand away from her belly and blew out the candle abruptly, not quite blushing, before sinking back into her seat, hoping the cushions might swallow her whole.
Across town, Daniel's fingers tapped anxiously against the frame of the couch. He shifted on his feet and glanced at his wristwatch. 7:00.
"Zoe?" He called up the stairs. At first, there was nothing, but a rustling from the stairs caught his attention and he glanced up. His first view was of a flash of pale skin and a swish of dark green fabric, which eventually resolved into Zoe Carter standing on the landing. She bit her lip hesitantly, which, with her short honey-colored hair hanging in loose curls and her green dress flowing in swirls and eddies around her knees, conjured up the image of a mischievous pixie out for a night on the town.
Daniel's hand was very still where it remained on the frame of the couch. His whole body had gone quite still, in fact, and his face was so impassive it verged on forbidding. Zoe smoothed the fabric beneath her hands uncomfortably. By now she was used to the stiff, disapproving way he always seemed to hold himself, but tonight it seemed more pointed than ever and it made Zoe feel childish in a way even her parents rarely managed.
Still, it wasn't in Zoe's nature to give so much as an inch, and she met Daniel's eyes with a defiant lift of her chin.
"Ready to go?" She asked quickly, in an attempt to deflect his attention. He gave her a startled look, followed swiftly by confusion.
"What - oh. Yes." He replied. The uncertainty in his tone escaped Zoe's attention, and she stepped briskly down the stairs and past him, her strappy silver heels clicking rhythmically against S.A.R.A.H.'s polished floors.
"S.A.R.A.H, door." There was a familiar whoosh of air as the hermetic seal of the bunker broke and the door swung slowly open. Zoe whirled around to face Daniel, her dress billowing out smoothly around her knees. "Well?" She asked him sharply, olive eyes flashing. "Are you coming or not?"
Daniel opened his mouth to respond, then clapped it shut again. Zoe rolled her eyes before pivoting back to the door.
"I'll be in the car," she snapped, before marching through the entrance to the bunker. She was out of sight, the click of her heels on the stairs echoing against the concrete walls of the bunker, before Daniel found his voice again.
"I'm coming!" He shouted, running a disbelieving hand over his face before racing out the door to catch up with her. Behind them, the door to the bunker swung shut with a satisfied hiss.
Jo had never really liked the Christmas party at GD. It was glitzy and ostentatious and generally overdone, whether it was Nathan Stark or Allison or Fargo at the helm. (Though, in their defense, even when it had been Stark or Allison running the show at GD, it had been their trusty assistant Fargo doing all the planning. There was an obvious common denominator here.) The year that Eva Thorne usurped control of GD could perhaps have been an improvement in that regard, had she not cancelled the party altogether. ("Frivolous," she had said, and in hindsight, how had they not known the woman dated back to the fifties?)
Showing up at the Christmas party after the understated elegance of the church service only served to highlight the contrast between the two, and any other year it would have grated on Jo. But this year - in spite of everything - Jo's spirits remained high as they entered GD and the tacky, obnoxious commercialized Christmas carols reached her ears.
Her brother was here. Her brother. Jo didn't even know how many years it had been since she'd seen a Christmas with one of her brothers. Since she'd graduated from West Point? It seemed - well, impossible really, and Zane was the one who'd made it happen.
She couldn't help but worry that she'd never get the chance to thank him for that.
"Jo!" Zoe appeared from amongst the throng of partygoers. "Finally! Somebody has to talk to the Reverend about the length of her services, I mean, really." She complained. Jo gave her a small smile.
"Well, I'm here now," Jo said. She eyed the diaphanous green folds of the skirt of Zoe's dress. "You look lovely, by the way," she told her, making a darker expression flicker quickly and almost imperceptibly across Zoe's face.
"Thanks," she said shortly. "Your brother is over there, by the way." She gestured in the general direction of the punch bowl. Jo threw her a grateful smile, which Zoe shrugged off before striding away in the opposite direction. Jo watched her retreating form for a minute, a quiet question hovering in the back of her mind, before she turned to approach her brother.
Daniel was by the coffee dispenser, looking perplexed - a feeling Jo could appreciate. Eureka being what it was, even the coffee dispenser had bells and whistles most people would never expect.
"The button on the left should get you a simple cup of coffee," she said, standing behind him. Daniel startled, dropping his empty cup and a small plate of cookies. He dove after them with a muffled curse, eventually standing and disposing of both plate and cookies reluctantly. His hands were shaking when he turned to Jo, forcing him to deposit his cup on the table and clench his hands by his waist before turning his attention to his sister. The motion didn't quite escape his sister, no matter how he attempted to hide it, but Jo held her tongue.
"Hey," he said dumbly. His eyes darted over Jo's shoulder quickly before fixing on her face. "Ah - how was the service?" He asked, looking uncomfortable. His discomfort was reflected in Jo's own face as the two siblings assessed each other, the ashes of an old argument lying between them.
Jo smiled, suddenly, and just as quickly as it had come, the tension between them eased.
"It was good," she said, and opened her mouth to speak before being struck with sudden shyness. She closed it and bit her lip, before starting again.
"I felt the baby kick," she confessed. Daniel blinked, processing the words, and studied his sister. It was subtle, but her face was lit in a way that had so far been absent from his stay in Eureka. He considered her in silence, the wheels in his mind turning until she shifted uncomfortably on her feet and he realized he'd taken too long to respond.
"Congratulations, Jo," he said, his tone sincere, and flashed her a quick smile before changing tack. "Now, big sister," he said, eyebrows raised as he emphasized 'big' with a nod toward her stomach, "may I have this dance?" He gestured to the small dance floor arranged artfully between the buffet tables.
Jo narrowed her eyes challengingly at his teasing, but suppressed amusement shone in her eyes as she responded, head tilted thoughtfully.
"I suppose so." His eyes glimmering with their shared amusement, Daniel inclined his head toward the crowd.
"Ladies first," he said, deadpan.
"Don't push it, brat."
Jo was caught by surprise when the clock finally hit ten and she realized the party was coming to a close. If it weren't for the evidence before her and the ache building in her lower back, she wouldn't have guessed that more than a half hour had passed. The party had been surprisingly uneventful: unlike last year, nobody had so much as spiked the punch. (Unlike last year, Zane wasn't conscious.)
Jo stubbornly insisted on sticking around to supervise cleanup, though Fargo and even her second in command attempted to convince her otherwise. Daniel, at least, had the good sense to keep his mouth shut and offer his assistance. Zoe reappeared shortly before midnight, seeming more lighthearted and relaxed than she had when Jo had seen her last, though there was a bite and an edge to her laugh that Jo didn't recognize. She'd slipped in between her father and Jo on order to demand their presence at Cafe Diem, fixing her father with wide, pleading eyes before turning her attention to Jo and wrapping her hands playfully around Jo's forearm to herd her towards the door.
"C'mon, Jo, the party's practically over already. Vincent will be so disappointed if you miss it." Jo hesitated, dragging Zoe back slightly as she leaned into her heels and paused.
"I don't know..." She equivocated, glancing back to the room behind them, toward the hallway. She'd managed to put Zane out of her head for a few hours, and while she had been glad for the reprieve from her own thoughts, something tugged at her now. And yet...she looked back at Zoe, who was focusing all of her peculiarly manic energy on persuading Jo to join them at Cafe Diem.
"I'm going to go check on Zane," Jo said finally. "And then I'll meet you there." Zoe darted a glance to the other side of Jo, where Daniel stood quietly, his dark eyes on his sister. Jo was just turning to ask Daniel if he minded when Zoe cut in.
"I'll come with you," she said quickly, before turning to her father. "I can drive myself, Dad; I'll just meet you there." Carter eyed his daughter but ultimately opted not to comment, instead nodding and walking off, hands in his pockets as usual. Zoe pivoted on her heel and flashed Jo a brilliant smile.
"So! Let's get to the infirmary, then."
The excess energy with which Zoe seemed possessed stayed strong as the trio made their way down to the infirmary. Jo abandoned the other two as soon as she stepped foot in the infirmary, with her anxious eyes only for Zane. Daniel hovered by the door uncomfortably as Zoe took the first few steps into the room; she glanced back to look at him and rolled her eyes as she found him still hanging back at the threshold. Zoe looked around, and her eyes lit with wicked amusement as a nearby cot grabbed her attention. She took a few steps and hopped onto the bed, her green dress fluttering around her with the movement. Her feet hung a few inches above the ground.
"Wanna play doctor?" She suggested brightly, enjoying the look of a deer in headlights that flashed across Daniel's face before he steadied his expression. He took a few steps forward reflexively, moving further into the room.
"I - ah - " Zoe rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Relax, I'm kidding," she told him, a little scornfully. Daniel's lips tightened, but he said nothing. Zoe looked away, and just as suddenly as it had come, the savage energy that had been written into her eyes and posture all night dissipated. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked suddenly exhausted and a little fragile. Reflexively, she popped out her phone and checked the time. "Oh, hey," Zoe said, her voice soft and pleased. "Midnight." She looked up, her bow-shaped lips curving into a smile. "Merry Christmas," she told him, and Daniel could feel his frustration melting away.
"Merry Christmas," he replied. Zoe frowned and glanced at Jo.
"Vincent said he was shutting the cafe down at two," Zoe reminded him reluctantly. "Should we - should we tell her?" Daniel followed her gaze. Jo was sitting by the head of Zane's bed, his hand clasped in hers, speaking in low tones. He looked back at Zoe.
"No," he decided. "She should take all the time she needs." Zoe only nodded.
"Allison thinks he might wake up soon," she said optimistically. Daniel half-shook his head.
"He'd better," he said, his dark eyes fixed on his sister. An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Zoe fidgeted, toying with her hands as Daniel stared distantly across the room.
"Has Jo ever told you anything about our mother?" He asked finally.
"No," Zoe replied honestly. "I know she's - that she passed away. She's not a big sharer," Zoe smiled with amusement at the thought, but Daniel didn't share her amusement. He ran a hand over his face with a sigh.
"I didn't - she wasn't - " He frowned. "I don't remember her very well," he said finally. "After I was born, she wasn't... She wasn't happy." He blew out a long puff of air. "She killed herself when I was five," he told her.
Zoe froze, her eyes darting to his face, but he'd turned his gaze downward, to his hands.
"I'm so sorry," she said, stunned. His eyes shot up to hers, his expression looking oddly panicked.
"No, it's not - I - I mean, it's fine, I barely remember her, you know? I was five, after all. How much do you remember from when you were five?" He said, his tone deceptively light, but the rapid, jerky motions of his eyes and the stiff way he held himself stood in sharp contrast to his words.
Enough, Zoe thought. I remember enough. But she let the moment pass without challenge. Some wounds, she knew, cut a little too deep and were a little too raw for casual interference. Daniel barreled ahead, taking her silence for acceptance and clearly wanting to distance himself from the previous line of inquiry as quickly as possible.
"Her death hit Jo hardest, I think," he continued. "She had only just turned ten, and she was the only girl." He shrugged regretfully. "I think Jo resents her a little, or she did. For leaving, you know," he clarified. He glanced back where Jo sat by Zane's bedside. "It's so much easier not to care about people," Daniel said softly. "I don't know how she'll handle it, if he doesn't make it. I don't know how many more people she can stand to lose." Zoe glanced down at her hands, biting her lip, then looked up again.
"She'd handle it the same way she always does," Zoe said in her most reassuring voice. "Shoulders back, chin up, keep moving forward." She turned her eyes back to the bedside scene across the room, and Daniel shot her a glance.
"She's not invincible, you know," he said reproachfully. Zoe kept her eyes fixed on Jo, who was just pushing herself up to a standing position from her seat by Zane's bed.
"Who is?" She murmured.
Later that night, long after the Christmas party at GD had subsided into a ghost town of tinsel and wreaths, Jo propped herself against the railing that delineated the otherwise unrecognizable patio outside Cafe Diem. The light flurries of the late afternoon had intensified over the evening, snow accumulating until Main Street had become nothing more than a sparkling white wasteland. If it hadn't been for the minor environmental disaster (by Eureka standards, at least) the heating systems in the smart pavement had caused over Thanksgiving, the snow would be long since melted and the roads clear, but for the time being the systems would remain offline until the project's primary scientists had adequately demonstrated an ability to prevent environmental disaster. Jo, for one, wasn't holding her breath. Some things, science couldn't reasonably control. Even in Eureka. The warm glow from inside Cafe Diem spilled through the door and windows onto the drifts accumulating against the railing. Jo found it serene, especially in contrast with the emotional turmoil she was keeping carefully contained within her.
"This place suits you." Jo jerked with surprise, first at the sound of another voice and then in response to having been caught by surprise at all. The voice was familiar, however, and when she turned Jo was not at all surprised to see her brother.
"What do you mean?" She finally asked as her mind caught up, processing the words she hadn't expected him to say. He spread his hands out before him in a gesture which read how can I explain?
"It suits you," he repeated. "I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed." Jo opened her mouth to protest but Daniel cut her off. "I'm not saying you're not happy enough, at home, but I know you, Jo. You're always on guard around Dad and Rico and Gabe." He shrugged a little helplessly. "So am I." He reminded her, easing the half-frown on her face. "These people... You don't worry so much what they're going to think." Jo gave him a small smile.
"They're good people," she said quietly.
"They love you," Daniel said gently. Jo worried at her lip a little with her teeth and turned away, raising her eyes to the moon and the quiet descent of snowflakes. She said nothing.
"And you're in love with one of them, aren't you?" He asked, not really expecting an answer. "The one in that hospital bed. Zane." Daniel watched Jo's fingers tighten on the railing, her knuckles whitening, and smiled to himself. "Congratulations, Jo." He told her sincerely. "And for the record - you're going to be a great Mom." A moment passed before Jo said, in a small voice:
"You think so?"
"I know so, big sister."
A/N: Ugh. I don't even have an excuse, guys. Straight up writer's block. I've been working on this chapter so long I can pinpoint actual months and weeks that each little breakthrough dates to. But! I have no intention of stopping, still, and I hope you'll still be willing to read. In the meantime, you might be interested to know that I've been working on some short stories in the 'Illuminated' 'verse, set in the future. There shouldn't be any major spoilers (except baby names!), so I think I'll post some soon. This means that any of you who a) would like to read these stories and b) would like to receive an alert to do so should click the "follow author" button if you haven't already.
Still not wild about this chapter, but... I hope you've enjoyed it!
ADM