A/N: Part one of the two standalone chapters. Again, this is very, very important. The next chapter - the grand finale - is also a standalone chapter, but there's no way I could put the Bahamas and NYC in one chapter - it would be entirely too long, yeah.
Chapter 30- Misunderstood Falsehoods (Sweet Dreams are Made of This)
Jacques stirred awake; blinking and stretching his arms out in front of him. He leaned back and found himself in his soft and comfortable bed without any companion. Despite this being normal, he frowned - because something wasn't quite right. He didn't feel like he was sitting on a bed, he felt like he was floating on a cloud - and there was this tingling sensation that he had gotten before, but... something was off.
He looked around to see that he was in the hotel room, and that he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and some black sweatpants. The sensation soared through his veins; he longed for something - no, he needed something... he just didn't know what it was. He didn't like it because he was unsure, and being unsure confused him. He had been feeling that a lot as of recently.
A rustling sound came from the window, startling him for a moment, but he continued to listen intently; as it got closer and closer. The source of the noise came from someone - a woman without a face - had climbed into the hotel room via window. Though Jacques had every reason to frightened; he relaxed - and the tingling sensation persisted.
Suddenly, the woman draped herself in front of him. She pressed her hands against his bare chest, as she began to kiss his neck tenderly. Jacques, shocked at first, eventually gave into it. Closing his eyes in pleasure as she began to work her way up, starting from kissing his neck, to his cheeks, and eventually her lips connecting with his. The sensation was odd... but Jacques found out soon enough that he did like it. He began to kiss her back just as tenderly, if not more so.
When they pulled away to breathe, Jacques opened his eyes. He smiled at who it was. Her brunette hair down instead of its usual ponytail, wearing a pink shirt and some sweats instead of her usual ice dancing costume. She smiled back at him, her brown eyes gazing lovingly at his own.
"Hi," she finally said, positively beaming.
Jacques' eyes twinkled. "Josée..." he muttered at last, but before he could say any more, Josée put her fingers to his lips, signaling him to be quiet so she could kiss his lips again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Jacques found himself embracing her as he supported her back while she kissed him, and he reciprocated with passion. His delicate hands moved up - getting entangled in her hair, but it didn't matter.
She was kissing him, she was kissing him like it wasn't anything, oh god...
They let go once more, and Jacques wished they hadn't stopped. Their foreheads leaned against each other, gazing at what the other's next move would be.
"Jacques?"
Funny enough, that was Josée's voice, but her lips weren't moving. "Jacques?"
...What on earth was happening?
"Jacques!"
Jacques woke up with a start, alarmed and unaware of his surroundings. His breathing was harsh, over that dream that had just occurred. He visibly flinched when his eyes met his partner's, who was only staring at him with concern. "Jacjac, you look like you've seen a ghost!" She was dressed and ready in her ice dancing costume, with her hands on her hips. Her hair was in its usual ponytail. Jacques' face flushed considerably as he jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom.
What just...
What just happened?
"We have to get ready for the challenge today!" Josée said happily, smiling from the mirror. Jacques could hardly look at her as he brushed his teeth. "I'm sure we're going to win the gold again, oui? After all... you are a hero."
Jacques nodded silently.
He needed to put an end to this now.
Josée and Jacques were ready to take the first travel tip. Before they could, however, the camera crew stopped them.
"Obviously we're going to win," Josée said confidently, " We've already taken the gold eight times."
"That's as many as the other three teams combined, it's laughable!" Jacques added, for good measure.
"Who'll stop us? The Surfers? Ha!"
Jacques laughed. "The Sisters?"
Josée snickered at that. "The Police Cadets?" Collectively, Josée and Jacques burst into hysterical laughter at the thought. But then they cringed a little, holding their laughter, before cackling once more at the idea of the Cadets beating them. After that was over, Josée took the next travel tip. "We're going to the Bahamas." Before they could go forward, they were stopped by a producer - with the claim that the other teams might be put on the same flight as them, had they not rushed there quickly.
"You mean they can do that?" Josée and Jacques exclaimed. At the mere mention of completing whatever challenge there was awaiting in the Bahamas, they jumped into a taxi and barked at him to go to the airport. Josée turned to Jacques and frowned; he had been very quiet - usually he was the one to initiate conversation.
By the time they got to the airport, they simultaneously shouted at the receptionist.
"Two tickets to Nassau, now!" Josée ordered. The receptionist frantically began to do what the ice dancer asked. "Three more teams are coming and you are going to put them all on a later flight! Got it?" Her angry order was interrupted by MacArthur's chuckle. Josée and Jacques turned to see that she, along with her teammate and the other teams, had arrived - with plane tickets in hand. They were the last to show up.
"Ha ha. I guess it's true. Ice guys do finish last. Boom!" MacArthur taunted.
Josée's eye twitched furiously, while Jacques' fists were balled up. "We. Are. So. Sick of those... Cadets!" Jacques proclaimed, as Josée hurled two computers through glass.
Nonetheless, they boarded the same flight as the other contestants. Josée glanced over to her partner, who's arms were crossed and standoffish. Her frown deepened when she tapped on his shoulder and he flinched in response, almost like he was scared of her. "Jacques, what is it?"
Jacques looked away from her. "Nothing."
"But..." Josée trailed off, biting her lower lip. She didn't know what else to say. "Are you sure about that?"
She could see him biting back a groan. He took a breath. "Oui. I am fine, Josée. I just want to focus on the competition."
Josée stared at him. While yes, he was focused on winning like she was, something was different this time, she... did she do something wrong? He was acting the strange the minute he woke up this morning; when he practically jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. He couldn't even make eye contact with her. Yesterday was a different story. They were close, they were in sync - hell, even with many things that she and Jacques have been through together, the simple motion of Jacques sacrificing his hair was enough for Josée to have the realization that he was her hero.
And today, well, Jacques certainly wasn't acting like her hero. Josée felt fear well up in her, because the last thing she wanted was to be wrong about Jacques. It would be like Claude all over again - but much worse.
After they landed in the Bahamas, Josée and Jacques grabbed the travel tip from the Don box. It was an All-in, stating that they had to take a taxi to Nasseu's Pirate Museum and find a Ridonculous treasure map, and once they finished that they were supposed to take a jet-ski to the coast of Abaco Island, where they would get their next travel tip.
Josée bit her lip again - Jacques had read the travel tip, and hadn't bothered making a remark to her like he usually did. But then again, isn't this what she wanted? She wanted them to focus on the competition, yes, but... god, did he have to be so cold to her? They spotted the taxi and found themselves in third place, behind the Cadets and the Surfers. Josée and Jacques took a few shuddering breaths; so they had bronze so far... no big deal, no big deal...
"As professional athletes, we have the unique ability to stay calm under pressure," Jacques remarked from the cab.
At that moment, the Sisters breezed past them. "There go the Sisters! Now we're in last place! Would you please hurry? We're in a race! You need to go faster! Faster!" Josée's voice had grown more and more screechy. In response, instead of speeding up, the cab driver blasted music at a deafening volume. Josée and Jacques had no choice but to cover their ears.
"I'm actually surprised this doesn't happen more often!" Jacques shouted over the music.
...Oh.
Josée frowned deeply. She remained quiet for the rest of the ride to the museum.
Arriving at the museum, Josée and Jacques smirked when they saw the Sisters in front of them. They trampled over them and ran inside the museum, and in response, Kitty yelled after them: "You two are the worst!"
"We're not the worst," Jacques insisted to the camera crew.
Josée shook her head. "Mm-mm. We're just dedicated competitors who will stop at nothing to win and are willing to ruin the lives of anyone who gets in our way." And for some reason, one of the producers asked about two things that happened a while back; the incident regarding the cell and the incident regarding the borehole. Uncertain as to why these things were brought up, Josée hesitantly answered: "I'm not a fan of small spaces."
"I'm pretty sure they already know that," Jacques stated.
Josée could only blink at him. Why was he... something was up, but there was no time to ask. They went back to the museum to find the Ridonculous treasure map with the logo on it. They tossed and ripped through the ones that weren't what they were looking for, letting out frantic shouts to the other on how their search was going.
"Hello, first place!" Kitty suddenly cheered, holding up one of the maps. As she and Emma passed the ice dancers, she gloated: "In your face, ice dunces!" MacArthur laughed.
A minute later, Brody had found one. "Mappage, bro!"
"Sweet!" Geoff cheered, and they both moved on to the jet skis.
Now the Cadets and ice dancers were starting to panic. Josée had tossed a picture to see if there was a map behind it, which promptly landed through Jacques, causing the ice dancer to wince. It took Josée a few seconds to realize that she had hit him. "Merde!" she exclaimed, kneeling down beside her partner. "Jacques, are you..."
"I'm fine," Jacques cut in, grabbing the picture off of him and standing up. "Just keep looking for the map."
"But-"
"Just leave it," Jacques interrupted once more, leveling a glare.
Josée faltered for a moment, then turned away. "Alright, then..." They continued their search. Sometime during the search, MacArthur had thrown a box of maps in Jacques' direction, causing him to get hurt yet again. When MacArthur tried to lift the second box, a Ridonculous treasure map emerged from it. Josée took her chance and snatched it.
"Hey! Hands off!" MacArthur barked, throwing the box at Josée. But she quickly recovered, along with Jacques, and proceeded to get in a tug-of-war for the map that would let them continue to the next challenge. "I said drop it, freezer breath!"
"MacArthur, let it go," Sanders ordered. Josée blinked for a second; why would she suggest that?
"Nobody tells me to let - oh." Josée had realized a split second too late that the recoil from the Cadets letting go would hurt her and Jacques, which was precisely what happened. They had lost their grip of the map, and could only groan as the Cadets cheered and moved on to the next challenge.
But they needed to recover. Only a minute passed before their luck started to turn, finding a map. Josée and Jacques ran to get changed into their swimsuits and took hold of the jet ski to try and hustle to get out of last place. When they spotted the Cadets up ahead, Josée noticed that Jacques was grinning and sped up. She knew exactly what he was going at. They got closer and closer, and Josée called out to them: "Hey cadets! EAT SEAWEED!" And Jacques splashed them with their jet ski.
Things were good for a moment.
Little did Josée know, this was not going to last.
Jacques pulled up to where the Don box was at the pier. He knew he was being a little colder than usual, yes, but... it was for the best. It's what her mother would want, too. Hell, there was a good chance that her mother was taking her final breath, and the last thing that Jacques wanted to do was distract Josée from her main goal; to gain the approval of her mother again. Even if she was a monster, even if she likely wasn't going to live... still, he had promised her that.
The Sisters and the Surfers were ahead, so Jacques knew that they would have to get to this challenge quickly. Luckily, Josée took the travel tip out from the Don box. She read it to herself a little bit, and that got a frightened expression on her face. "I have to swim in... tunnels and caves!" she exclaimed the last part, horrified, as she went close to him. Jacques backed off; hoping that his face wasn't turning bright red - he remembered when she was this close to him, that was in a dream.
He didn't want to think about that. It only made him angrier, actually. "The travel tip says that?" he questioned.
Josée nodded frantically. "Mhm," she whimpered a bit. She grabbed the travel tip off the floor and held it up for him to read. It stated that whoever had grabbed the travel tip would have to search underwater in tunnels to find gold doubloons armed with a map, flashlight, and an oxygen tank. When they got that, they would go up to the pier, go on their jet skis, and it would be a foot race to the chill zone.
Jacques took a breath and attached the oxygen tank onto her. "You can do this!" He tried to encourage, when he saw Josée's eye twitch. "...Right?"
Beat.
"Absolutely!" Josée exclaimed. Jacques knew she was lying through her teeth. "...unless you want to, please!"
"No, I can't. You know that," Jacques told her bluntly. When he saw her let out a frustrated groan, he thought it was the perfect opportunity. "That's it, use your anger!"
Josée grinned and held the flashlight up. "Yes! I'll channel my anger into sabotaging the cadets."
Jacques frowned. "No more sabotage... a penalty nearly got us sent home in India!" ...Yes, he may have sabotaged the Sisters last round, but he needed an excuse. Plus, he really didn't want to get penalized this time; especially since there would be less time between the other teams that could potentially catch up - and not making the podium because of a penalty would be awful.
However, Josée didn't see it that way. "But it didn't, did it?"
Between the instances regarding the stupid dream, his own conflicted feelings on his partner - that were really driving him mad - the injuries that he had gotten throughout the race, and all the fighting that he and Josée had because of it, it made him grow very, very frustrated and well, he wanted to hurt her in that moment.
Therefore, he groaned and stated coldly: "This is why I don't want to go pro with you anymore!"
"What?!" Josée squawked.
Jacques crossed his arms and turned away from her. He refused to react. "There are things I want to do with my life that don't involve sequins and blade sharpeners!"
"And you're telling me this NOW?!" Josée thundered.
A cool fury rushed through Jacques because, never did he want to break up their partnership... no, it was never him. The only two times in which they weren't partners were all due to her and her feelings. What about him? She didn't know about the awful feelings he had; that he almost wanted to drown himself in a lake because of her leaving him. Some days, he still wonders if he would've followed through had his sister not stayed with him for a bit. As soon as he mentioned something different - which was just a spur in the moment thing to tick her off - it gave her the right to be angry about it? But whenever he was frustrated, oh no, that was just impossible, and never good enough for her.
That's what it boiled down to.
He would never be good enough for her, he figured.
"We'll talk about it later." Then, he recklessly pushed Josée into the water. It reeked of callousness; and the other contestants knew. "She'd do the same!" he tried to insist. He held the headset and spoke into the microphone, "Josée, can you hear me?" He winced and shook as Josée's screech took over his headset, which was overheard by the others.
"Well her mic definitely works!" Emma snapped from beside him. Then, she talked into her mic: "Just Josée freaking out..."
Freaking out, Jacques thought. Though his chest ached, he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Josée! You can do it. Just pretend you're going into a skating rink that's dark and wet and really cramped."
"Stop talking, and let me whimper in peace!" Josée snapped from his headset, and proceeded to hyperventilate. Out of the corner of Jacques' eye, he saw MacArthur had arrived and dove into the water. He knew they would be last if Josée kept this up.
"Get in the tunnel!" Jacques snapped at her.
"I don't take orders from traitors!"
Jacques bit back a groan. "You can yell at me after you finish the challenge!" But then, Josée's voice cut through again - she sounded frantic, and afraid, crying that she couldn't breathe, and Jacques got that softened look in his eyes - part of him wanted to dive in and save her, but he couldn't. "Check your gauge, Josee. You have plenty of oxygen!"
"It's down to sixty percent..." Josée told him, then proceeded to shriek even more. Beside Jacques, he heard Sanders compliment her partner - presumably for getting inside the cave. Upon hearing that, Josée shrieked again, and snapped: "First? Not letting that happen..." she whimpered, then added: "I will ruin you!" And let out a wail of some sort.
"Josée, are you inside yet?" Jacques asked after a minute.
"I can't do it! I can't... what do you want?!" Jacques winced even more; she was getting more and more hysterical. Hell, this was probably the worst that she's been - she was this close to losing it completely, or maybe she already has.
And then, something happened quickly after, which made Jacques' stomach churn. "Wake up, Josée! You're a winner! And winners never quit! Are you a baby?"
She was insulting herself, like the way she mumbled not too long ago, except she was shouting. The other contestants looked over to Jacques, who was very uncomfortable as Josée's voice got more and more screechy: "You're pathetic! A pathetic baby who sucks her thumb and wets the bed!"
Within that moment, Jacques was hit with an awful realization.
This wasn't a quirk, and it wasn't Josée.
"Do you hear me!?"
This unlocked an early memory that Jacques didn't want to remember. It was roughly a year after they became partners, and Josée's mother had screamed at her on the rink for falling - and repeated, word-for-word, of what Josée was screaming at herself. She was seven, frightened, and had quite literally wet herself out of fear. Luckily she had outgrown that, but Jacques couldn't forget the way Josée was so terrified, the way that he knew that her mother would never be a redeemable person. His parents had to gently explain to him that Josée was a lot more fragile than other kids his age, and that she was lucky to have a friend like him to protect her.
He had felt proud.
But now...
Jacques would argue that in this moment he was just as bad her mother.
And that only made him furious.
Furious at himself, furious at her... but mainly the former.
"Shouldn't you talk her down?" Sanders voice cut through.
Jacques felt himself grow very hot. What business was it of Sanders? Why did she have to put her nose in when likely she and MacArthur were making fun of her. Besides, she didn't know the whole story. No matter how many times he tried to tell Josée that her mother was awful, she always found a way back to that awful woman; and he despised her. Hell, ever since he was a little kid - this woman that made his angel cry. He remembered the fights he had with Josée over it, and it made him nauseous.
In a few months to come, Jacques would fully regret shouting the following statement. He covered his microphone with his hand, and snapped: "I've taken this kind of crud from her for fourteen years, it's about time she got a taste!" There, that would do it.
Right?
"Dude..." Geoff remarked disappointedly, shaking his head. "Not cool."
"Fucking egotistical prick," Sanders retorted lowly. She ignored the glare the camera crew was giving her. Jacques' eyebrows shot up in surprise at the milder cadet swearing. He was about to open his mouth to argue, but Sanders wouldn't have it. "No really, you are. Shut up. I don't want to hear your voice until Josée talks to you again."
"But-"
Emma cut him off with a bitter chuckle. "Did she say you could talk? No. So shut up."
Jacques quieted immediately. He waited for a while; hopefully Josée was cooled down by now - but there was that fear that lingered within him, that maybe she had been stuck down there and that her oxygen tank was running out. It was unusually quiet from his headset, other than the sound her breathing getting better. Within that period, Kitty was stuck underwater, and the Surfers were the first ones to finish the challenge and would likely be the first to reach the chill zone.
Soon, Josée spoke: "I did it! I'm in the cavern!"
Jacques cheered for her. "You go girl!"
Sanders spoke into her mic: "How did she get ahead of you MacArthur?" There was a pause, then: "Are there three on the left?" She paused again. "You're holding the map upside down." Jacques snorted in amusement, while Sanders glared at him. His smirk had vanished after that.
"And Josée takes the gold!" Josée remarked, then giggled a little. "Like there was ever any doubt!" Then there was a pause, and Josée let out a horrified gasp and started to hyperventilate again. "My oxygen is down to two percent! No. Air. Help!" she cried out. Jacques felt a tear at his heartstrings.
He was at a total loss. "Ah... Look uh... for an air pocket!"
Josée's panicked breaths filled his headset for a few seconds and let out a desperate gasp. "Okay. Now what?"
That was a good question; one that he didn't have the answer to. So he resorted to the next best thing: "Um... help!" he screeched.
"So that's it, huh?!" Josée shrieked, her voice shaking in fright. "You're just going to call out for help like a coward!"
Jacques' face faltered significantly. "I was just trying to help you, Josée!"
"I don't need your goddamn help!" Josée shouted hysterically. From the sound of her voice, Jacques was sure that she was on the verge of tears. "You're the worst, I hate you!"
Jacques was brought back to the aftermath of the olympics; when Josée stated that she hated him - that feeling returned; the dread of wanting to die then and there. Had he not been so composed in that moment, he was positive that he would've jumped in the water and let himself sink to the bottom. After all, it was probably how she felt - the feeling of drowning and losing air. The way that he pushed her into the water even though he was supposed to be her hero. But no, he turned into her villain.
Somewhere, Josée's mother was smiling in content.
...And that's when the guilt really hit him.
Josée had one word that rang in her head:
...Why?
Why, why, why...
He was supposed to be her hero.
In the air pocket, Josée rested her arms and buried her face into them, as she silently shook with sobs. It was then Josée wanted to go back in time where Jacques held her in the hotel back in Argentina. She yearned to relive that warmth feeling from him, that closeness that she had never felt from anyone before. After all, he was her hero. He always had been. But now, she had the awful realization of being wrong about everything. She was wrong about Jacques, she was wrong about opening herself up to him.
Josée claimed she hated him, but she was wrong. She tried to hate him. She had many reasons to do so - dropping her at the olympics happened to be one of them, as well as this event that just occurred - but then he'd just give her that stupid dopey grin of his and it made it utterly impossible, he could do absolutely anything and she couldn't bring herself to despise him; even after all these years...
She craved his warmth.
But now, she wanted her mother.
Part of her wanted to go home.
But no, her mother wanted her to win, because winners never quit.
"Josée..." That was Jacques' voice coming from the helmet. It only made her heart hurt even more. She lifted her head up, revealing a blotchy red face and tears that stained her cheeks. Her eyes watered as he repeated her name again, "Josée, please..."
"Shut the fuck up," Josée hissed at him, sniffling and wiping her face roughly. "Just don't talk to me."
"Josée..."
He just continued to say her name, therefore she lost it. "SHUT UP!" Josée shouted to the helmet, choking back a sob. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"
"Josée stop it, you're using up your air, you're going to hurt yourself!"
"Oh so now you give a shit," Josée retorted, continuing to wipe under her eyes. She took a breath, and spat maliciously: "I hate you." She didn't... and that only made the sobs return because she really wished that she could. She buried her face into her arms and let out more cries, this time, a little more louder than before. "I don't want to die."
"You're not going to..."
"Jacques, please stop talking," Josée cut him off, this time a lot more softly, resigned, like she was begging. "Please." After that, she didn't hear anything else from him. Suddenly, she saw a light from underneath coming toward her. Josée quickly wiped any remains of her tears and took several breaths to compose herself.
MacArthur emerged from the water, with a cocky smirk. "Buh-bye, ice princess!" Then she dove back under. Josée didn't really blame her; she remembered exactly what the cadet had said in Vietnam. She had quoted her father knowingly when it came to competitiveness, and she happened to agree. If her competitor was drowning, she would stick a hose in their mouth and turn the water on. Josée didn't think it would be quite literal in this situation, but she wasn't surprised in the least.
Still, Josée couldn't help but let out a frustrated groan. "I hate those cadets!"
"Josée! Stop wasting air!" Jacques ordered.
"You can't tell me what to do!" Josée shouted angrily, "I'm on my own now, remember?!"
Then there was a thoughtful pause.
"Okay, we have to send in a diver, Josée. You can't hold your breath long enough to get back to the surface."
Josée rolled her eyes. "You just love to quit, don't you?"
Jacques' groan filled the headset. "Ugh, fine! I didn't mean it! I'll go pro with you!"
Josée smirked, because those were just words. Always taking the easy way out, wasn't he? "Ha! You wish." Below her again, the light came closer and closer. MacArthur appeared again, and Josée's expression changed entirely. "Here to rub it in my face?" she challenged. "Let me guess, 'I'm bad, you win. Blah. Blah. Blah-"
"Will you shut it?" MacArthur cut in, annoyed. "I'm here to help."
Josée's eyebrows shot up. "But... I thought you hated me."
"I do," MacArthur confirmed. "But I'm also a cop. Almost. And I took an oath... seminar." Josée merely stared at the cadet in disbelief. "Besides, if anything is taking you out of this race it's gonna be me." MacArthur took off her helmet and gave her oxygen tank to Josée. "If I catch you hogging my oxygen, I will leave you behind!"
"Understood," Josée said, her voice muffled. She and MacArthur inhaled and dove underwater, taking turns sharing the oxygen tank, tied for second place. As they did so, many things ran through Josée's head. What happened to that quote MacArthur cited back in Vietnam?
If your competitor was drowning, you wouldn't help them, you'd stick a hose in their mouth and turn the water on.
Why wasn't MacArthur letting her drown?
Josée would've scowled. She hated liars. She hated that MacArthur went soft, she was weak! Wherever there was weakness, she was supposed to attack it. But still, she kept swimming along with MacArthur. Part of her was thankful - though that was a very small part - and the other part, the much larger one, was furious at her. Well, she was mostly furious at Jacques - because Jacques was supposed to be her hero, the one to save her when she was vulnerable and scared... not MacArthur.
Yes. That's what made her angry.
MacArthur was not her hero.
MacArthur was not her hero.
Both of them emerged from the water, spotting Jacques and Sanders on jet skis.
"Did you hit your head?" Sanders remarked amusedly to her partner.
"No. Why?" MacArthur asked.
"You saved your mortal enemy, and I didn't even have to tell you to do it."
Josée winced and MacArthur replied, "Yeah, I guess you're rubbing off on me." MacArthur got on the jet-ski behind Sanders and cheered, while Josée got behind Jacques with a disgruntled look on her face, understandably.
"Aw, I was so worried!" Jacques exclaimed.
Josée wouldn't have it. "Yeah, yeah. Cram it and drive." Jacques didn't make any further comment, and did what she asked. They got changed back into their original costumes and ran to the chill zone. They were neck-and-neck with the other teams. When the cadets had gotten ahead, Josée felt rage well up in her. All she could think about was that it took her enemy to save her life, when it should've been Jacques. It should've been him, because he was supposed to be her hero; but he was her worst enemy in that moment.
Josée glanced down, snatched the coconut nearby, and aimed it directly at MacArthur's head, sending her crashing down. She let out a satisfying cackle as she and Jacques pulled ahead, ignoring the gasps from the other contestants. Even with the coconut being thrown, MacArthur easily recovered - and was being carried by Sanders.
"Ice Dancers, second place. Cadets, you're third," Don announced.
The Sisters were cut, but no one was focused on that.
"How could you do that?! I saved your life!" MacArthur shouted at Josée.
Josée merely shrugged, grinning. "That was then, this is now."
"Speaking of now," Don started, then held out two travel tips for the remaining teams to take. "Travel tips."
It was the final three now.
"New York City, sweet!" MacArthur said.
New York City.
"Water taxis - go, go, go!" Jacques remarked, and the two teams were off. But before they could get on the water taxis, both teams were stopped for separate confessionals.
"Just because she got all soft doesn't mean I have to," said Josée. Then, she turned to her partner. "No penalty this time. How do you feel about my strategy?"
"I never had a problem with cheating," replied Jacques. "I have a problem with getting penalized for it." Josée snuck a glance at him and smiled; she just wanted things to be okay again, though they were far from okay.
"So we're good?" Josée asked, a bit hopeful, though it was a lie.
"Oh yes... we're good," stated Jacques. It was a lie; they weren't good, they were far from good. Josée and Jacques somehow went from being extremely close yesterday to so far apart today. But both of them knew that they had to play it up for the cameras, because of many things. Their fans were watching, and they had a competition to win.
After the confessionals were finished, Josée and Jacques were about to get to their water taxi, up until...
"Hey!"
Josée and Jacques stopped in their tracks and turned around to see MacArthur and Sanders charging toward them. Eyes widening, the Ice Dancers moved even faster, but unfortunately the Cadets were quicker and jumped right in front of them. Josée and Jacques made an effort to push them off, but MacArthur and Sanders wouldn't budge.
"Would you move out of the way?!" Josée hissed at the cadets. "We have a million dollars to win!"
"No! I want to know why you did that! I saved your life!" MacArthur snapped angrily. "And I want a 'thank you!' I knew I should've left you there!"
Josée cackled while Jacques smirked. "It's not my fault you got all soft. This is a competition after all. Now, if you excuse us..."
"Shut up!" This was not MacArthur who shouted this, but Sanders. The Ice Dancers and even MacArthur looked appalled that her voice raised that high. It was deadly silent after that, the water taxis still in place, but neither team moved to go inside. Josée and Jacques wondered why they were still standing there when they could attempt to push past them again. Sanders cleared her throat, and then asked, in voice hinted with a bit of pity: "Aren't you tired?"
It was a very simple question, but Josée and Jacques knew there was a lot to that question, and it stung them hard.
Nonetheless, Josée and Jacques gave them even bigger smirks, as Jacques said, "Tired of what? Winning? I don't think so."
Sanders leveled a glare with them. "You know that's not what I meant." But then, she grinned knowingly. Jacques and Josée were immediately unsettled, but still, they kept smiling. "See, we studied human behavior at the academy. I was one of the best ones understanding it. But even without that course, I could tell that those forced smiles of yours are to cover up some deep emotional pain that you have endured over the years, so you take it out on other people. You're pretending that you're fine for the cameras... but look around you right now, there aren't any cameras. It's getting really hard to keep up with that mask of yours, isn't it? It had been slipping throughout the whole race... I think it's very sad, don't you? To pretend to be all happy when in reality, you're dying inside."
At this point, Josée and Jacques' smiles had faded significantly, and even MacArthur looked uncomfortable.
But Sanders wasn't quite finished yet. This time, she looked directly at Josée. "I could feel it. I've felt it even then. You know how I figured it out? Back in Australia..." Josée opened her mouth to protest, but Sanders wasn't having it. "When we were in that prison cell; I saw it in your eyes - you were in pain, and you wanted to tell me something... like a confession... but you kept it to yourself. Can I let you in on a little secret?" Josée and Jacques did not interrupt, but the former could feel her anger boiling up like lava. "This attitude works for a while, but there comes a point where it all crashes and burns. You both turning on each other was just proof of it starting. It kills you in the end."
Sanders exhaled, then added again in that voice that was getting on their nerves. "So I ask you again, aren't you tired? Just a little bit? I just know you're exhausted."
SLAP!
Sanders raised her hand to touch her stinging cheek that Josée had put her hand on. MacArthur was ready to tackle Josée but Sanders used her arm to hold her partner back. Jacques looked shocked only for a moment that Josee slapped Sanders, but here, even Josée was shocked with Josée. The female ice dancer briefly stared at the hand she used to attack Sanders and then stared back at Sanders herself.
Realizing that she probably looked like a deer in the headlights, Josée's shocked stare turned into a look of pure fury. It was then she remembered why she attacked Sanders in the first place. "...Fuck you," Josée spat. "You don't..." She was sure there were bitter tears in her eyes now. "You don't... you don't know what the hell you're talking about!" With that in mind, Josée stormed past the Cadets, brushing away the tears that hadn't fallen from her eyes yet, and into the taxi.
Before Jacques joined her, he turned to the Cadets, that looked more or less surprised at Josée's outburst. "She's right," he spat venomously. "You really don't know what you're talking about." Then he joined his partner in the water taxi, who shifted away from him. Jacques couldn't blame her.
It was quiet the first few minutes.
The water taxi's engine filled the awkwardness between them, the motor providing some tranquility and calmness, however it couldn't quite get rid of Josée and Jacques' anxieties from this long, hard, exhausting day. Not only that, Jacques and Josée couldn't stop thinking about those words that Sanders had thrown at them.
It was a good question that neither of them could get out of their heads. The rhetorical question rang over and over; were they tired?
...Yes. Oh god yes, they had no idea... that's what made it a rhetorical question, because how could they not be tired?
Jacques glanced over at his partner, who remained stiff as a board, and far away from him as possible. He wondered if she was thinking the same as he was, but then he realized that was stupid because how could she not be thinking about it? It was long awful day that he contributed to, and he wanted to hurt her, he wanted to push her away. But it turned him into the monster that made Josée afraid of him; like she was afraid of her mother. Josée had felt a lot of negative things toward Jacques at times. Anger was one of them, naturally, sadness, frustration, and worse - but she was never afraid.
Things weren't good between them. Jacques cursed himself. Had he not felt so strongly about his partner, none of this would've happened. If only there was a way to stop these feelings, to stop that wonderfully awful dream that he deep down wished could continue, and to stop the shame he felt. He was lying to himself, and he was lying to her.
Jacques cleared his throat hesitantly. "Josée..."
"Leave it alone, Jacques."
Her voice wasn't harsh like Jacques expected it to be. It was soft, pleading, and hurt, and it was all his fault.
"Non," Jacques interrupted, shaking his head. "We have to talk about it."
Josée glared at him. "Okay, fine. Let's talk about it. What else do you want to do in life? Is this about the ballet company?"
Beat.
Jacques wasn't expecting that. "Non, Josée... I only said that to... to..." he trailed off. He wanted to hurt her, in that moment, there was no excuse. He let out a sigh. "I don't know... I just wanted to make you mad because... because you were making me mad." Then his heart grew very, very heavy when he spotted his partner's glare softening - but her eyes filled with bitter tears, threatening to fall.
"W-why?" Josée stammered, then she broke down. She hiccuped and sobbed into her hands miserably, refusing to make eye contact with him. Jacques was secretly thankful, because his lower lip had started to quiver and he didn't want Josée to see him look so defeated. "That's... that's all I want to know. Why would you... why?"
There were so many reasons.
Jacques could've told her any of them.
He could've told her about the overwhelming guilt of bearing this secret of her mother refusing treatment and letting herself die, and that this whole competition was to serve as a distraction and a way to earn her mother's love and approval again, that she was unlikely to even see because of her demise.
He could've told her that he was frustrated and angry at her, because sometimes she wouldn't hear him out, and think about the things he wanted to do and that he wanted to get back at her as some sort of revenge. The olympics happened to be one of those incidents, and how if she even knew about how he felt during that time... god, he didn't even want to think about that.
Jacques could've told her - and this was especially the strongest truth of them all - that he was ashamed of his feelings that he still didn't quite understand, that his heart would beat rapidly whenever she was around, that her laughter was the most beautiful sound he had heard in his life, and that he was ashamed of the dream he had of her. It was the way she hardly had to do anything for him to be completely enamored with her, but he had so much internal conflict within him that drove him absolutely insane, and he had taken it out on the person that brought on this confusion; which happened to be Josée.
But instead of telling her any of these truths, Jacques went with yet another lie: "It was tough love," he said softly, the guilt hitting him in the chest. The answer only made Josée sob more, increasing the guilt within him. At that second, he wanted to take that back and tell her the truth, but he couldn't. "I... I wanted us to win, get the gold... and I thought that... that by giving you this tough love that it would help." Josée's sniffles filled the brief silence, before Jacques continued, his eyes shining: "But never again, Josée. I am so, so sorry. And... and you don't have to forgive me, I wouldn't forgive me either-"
"Jacques," Josée cut in softly. Jacques ceased his words at once, watching her in anticipation for what she would say. She hesitantly scooted closer to him. "I... I can't do it. I mean, I can't hate you. I've tried, you know... I have tried to hate you, but I can't do it." Jacques didn't know how to feel about this. A tear had fallen from her eye. "I've known you for too long. When I was... I was stuck in the cave, thinking that I was about to die, all I kept thinking was that you were supposed to save me."
Jacques touched his own cheek to realize that it was also damp. "J-Josée..."
"You were my hero," Josée said, her voice at a higher pitch than usual at the end. A loud sniffle escaped from her. "I didn't expect you to let me fall again."
"Josée," Jacques started off seriously, taking both of her hands in his. Josée was startled for a moment, before she looked into his eyes - tears were falling, and his voice was shaking, he needed her to know how important this was. "I will never let you fall again, never again."
Josée yanked her hands away from him, and turned away. "You said that the last time."
"No, I mean it. Look at me," Jacques said quietly, gently holding her hands again. She looked at him, and that pained look in her eyes made Jacques' stomach swirl. "I don't care about cheating... I don't care about playing dirty anymore... I will do whatever it takes to get us that gold. I promise I won't let gold slip through my fingers."
Josée let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She let go of his hands and wiped her face. "Can you just please just hold me?" Jacques didn't even hesitate. He nodded and brought Josée on his lap, holding her tightly and running his hand up and down her back. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, silently crying into it. Jacques hushed her softly, continuing the motion of rubbing her back to comfort her. His feelings didn't matter right now; he had to help her reach their goal.
Get the gold, the million dollars, and her mother's approval.
No matter what he felt, that was Jacques' main priority. His conflicting feelings be damned.