Chapter Text
“Okay, okay,” Dani giggles, smile so wide over the infectious laughter of Jamie behind her. A fit of joy that she caused in response to one of her many awful jokes.
Moments like these Dani revels in because they are rare now. They are filled with an unabated delight shared between them without a certain awful being hindering it. Dani wishes they could spend every moment like this. Their joy is nearly infinite, so infectious that it radiates between the both of them. The happiness rises from their core, upturning their lips into ardent grins, aching their bellies with intense laughter.
Dani wishes to stay here, right here forever. Where she can turn and watch the way Jamie’s head snaps back as her breathless laughter fills the air, smile so wide she can see every line that marks her face. Watch the way her creased eyes still somehow glisten even though they are nearly scrunched shut. It is a sight and a sound Dani believes could cure anything… almost anything.
Dani clears her throat. “How about this one?”
She looks up at the ceiling in an attempt to remember the joke she had read from earlier, hands absentmindedly stirring their supper on the stove. “Oh yeah, okay… What did the popcorn say to its mom?” she asks, then her voice dissolves into a subtly embarrassed chortle as she shakes her head. “Dammit,” she mumbles. “I said that wrong. Hold on let me try again.”
It doesn’t matter that the joke doesn’t pan out the way Dani intends, her mere fumbling has Jamie crying out with the most obnoxious laughter she has ever heard. So strained that it is nothing more than a croak and a wheeze, and it leaves Dani blushed and grinning away from Jamie. She peeks back, lip bit fondly, at Jamie. Studies the way the brunette’s head is flung back, shoulders shaking, hands still cutting at the carrot on the cutting board. Dani wishes she had a camera so she could keep this picture forever. Jamie, so candidly happy. She wishes to hold this image so close to her, forever clutched to her being so she’ll never forget.
She turns her head again, freezing in her path as she catches the foreign reflection in the vase beside the stove. Her reflection. A hazy, distorted image that is so familiar yet unwelcome. Featureless and sopping, staring back at her.
She hates to admit that it is now her reflection no matter how dissimilar it. Regardless, too, of how many times she has seen it in the last few years, it still sends her pulse pumping at an ungodly speed in her sternum, sends her fists clenching, sends her body to a state of stiffness that could give the dead a run for their money.
She stares at the reflection, and the reflection stares right back. Still holding the ability to taunt her even though it is featureless. It expresses its essence of smugness and obstinance without a face to vouch for it. However, Dani feels it anyway and knows it will always be there to remind her that she is a stranger in her own body, that nothing here belongs to her, and nothing here is under her control. Dani will be taken. And Dani can’t fight.
The sound of a knife clanking against the granite counter and the pained hiss of, “Shite,” from Jamie, pulls Dani from her distracted state. She swiftly turns on her heels to face Jamie who is now nearly hyperventilating which is such a rare form of Jamie that Dani is immediately concerned. She lunges forward and peeks over Jamie’s shoulder to see blood running through her trembling fingers, dripping onto the wood cutting board.
“Oh, baby,” Dani mumbles as she puts a comforting arm around Jamie’s waist, thumb brushing her hip soothingly. The other hand grips Jamie’s wrist and urges it towards the sink. Once Dani gets cold water running, she pulls her hand under it to wash away the red substance that without fail will always cause Jamie to go rigid and panic.
She presses a gentle kiss to the back of Jamie’s neck in hopes it settles her down a bit before she steps to the side to rummage through drawers for a bandage. Never once does she let go of Jamie’s hand as she does so. It is a practice she has grown skilled at.
Even before Jamie, she held expertise in caring for others. She always found herself soothing the young children in her classes if they ever suffered a paper-cut or a scrape. She knew it was like to not be nurtured, so she took the chance to give those little moments to the children. Hushing them, bandaging them in seconds flat to prevent them from feeling their pain for too long. Dani has always wondered if that was what she was put on this Earth to do. To nurture, to love, to care for those who need it. God only knows she needs it too, but she’d rather prevent another being from feeling the way she does. She’d go to the ends of the Earth to ward off pain like that.
Dani returns the crooked smile on Jamie’s face as she places a bandage over the sliced knuckle of her hand, pressing her lips to the finger as her eyes rise to meet Jamie’s in a calm, loving stare.
“What would I do without you?” Jamie sighs.
Silence. A deafening, uncomfortable silence follows. Damn that question. Even in its lighthearted context, it is a collection of six words Dani wishes to never hear. Because it’s real; it’s nothing to joke about when it’s impending. When the very existence of without is only over the horizon.
If Dani can’t manage to fathom what life without Jamie could be like, and she can put together the fact that the both of them rely on each other and love each other more than much anything else, then she can only wonder what Jamie will do. What will she do?
Will she lay awake at night and lament for her? No. Will she go with her? God, no. Will she forget her? No, no, no.
The very idea of inflicting that much pain onto someone, let alone Jamie, is the worst thing she can possibly bear, but the curiosity is aching her. They haven’t addressed it. In fact, they steer around the topic so often it is beginning to drive Dani crazy. Because she has to know. She needs the closure of knowing that Jamie will be okay without her. She can’t leave without ensuring that Jamie will be okay.
“What will you do?” Dani asks softly and slowly, not even comprehending that she even said anything. The words that involuntarily leaked out seem to shock her as much as they shock Jamie.
And, as expected, Jamie isn’t pleased with the question. She recognizes it in the way her head tilts to the side and her brows are furrowed in confusion. A look that questions her intentions in a puzzled manner. It’s a look akin to an innocent child who has no idea the meaning behind a word they have never heard before. It is a familiar naivete that Dani knows Jamie is only putting on to avoid the topic at hand.
“Jamie - when I…” she begins, pausing for a moment to ground herself. However, she only continues to fumble. Continues even when she can hear the shaky, breathy balking from Jamie. “Because - Jay… at some point, I will - and I - guess I need to know…”
“We’re not doing that, Dani. Please.”
“Jamie,” Dani pleads, eyes squeezing shut as she’s trying to squeeze out the words she needs to say.
“No!” Jamie snaps, a warning finger pointed at her like a dagger.
The volume of her voice sends Dani nearly reeling. She flinches back in surprise, now feeling so small under Jamie’s cautioning leer.
Of course, Dani. You’ve done it again. You’re trouble. Always trouble.
It isn’t long before Jamie is apologizing, gathering Dani in her comforting and warm embrace. But Dani still feels cold. She can’t seem to shake her seized state, so she remains unresponsive as Jamie squeezes her and apologizes. Can’t seem to melt in the way Jamie nuzzles into her neck. Can’t seem to say anything or do anything.
“It’s okay, we don’t need to worry about that. It’s o-”
Dani interrupts her by pushing herself out of her grasp. She stands before Jamie, a fit of seething anger beginning to boil in the pit of her stomach. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, and she’s unaware if the anger is really hers. She can feel the frustration of Jamie’s constant optimism; however, the level of her anger at this very moment is unwarranted to the point that she knows it can only belong to the bombarding woman within her.
“Jamie, stop that,” Dani says, shaking her head as she takes another step back.
Jamie eyes her, confusion painted across her features as she takes a step forward in response to Dani’s retreat.
“Stop what?”
“That,” she retorts as she gestures to Jamie, “the constant reassurance. It’s empty, Jamie. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.”
“Dani… I don’t know what you’re -”
“It’s not going to be alright,” Dani interrupts, voice growing more frazzled and upset. “None of this is alright. I hate when you do that… Jamie, you need to...” Dani stops as she can’t find the words in her aggravation. She’s never felt this passionately upset with Jamie before.
Jamie pushes forward, gripping Dani’s forearm gently but it only gets whipped away.
“Jamie, stop!”
“Dani…”
“You have to accept this! I can’t have you thinking things will be okay! Nothing about any of this is okay, Jamie! I-I- can’t leave knowing you won’t be okay!” Dani cries, shaking her hands in front of her to present her point, using them to express how determined she is to instill this into Jamie.
Things aren’t okay. Nothing about what is happening is okay, and Dani is tired of the empty promises and affirmations. She’s tired of being lied to, blatantly lied to.
Dani grows weary and feeble under Jamie’s surveying eyes. She can feel the way they are trying to read her, see through her to understand. She almost senses the desperation in Jamie to comprehend why Dani is so angry with her. But, those studying eyes fall to the ground in defeat, shoulders sulk deeply in despair. Her fingers fiddle with the ring on her left hand as she contemplates the situation. It is a characteristic tic of Jamie’s whenever she has to think about their circumstances. Dani has come to recognize it instantly.
“You don’t think I know that?”Jamie questions, voice beat down and sullen. “Of course I know that.”
“Then why do you…?”
“Because I-” she cries, voice catching in her throat as her eyes dart around as she searches for the right words. “Because it’s my job to take care of you, Dani!”
Dani clenches her jaw and exhales through her nose, “No it’s..” she begins until she finally grasps the sight of the woman before her. So many emotions wracking her that Dani would have to sit and stare for hours to comprehend every one. Keeping on with this argument is useless and cruel as evident in her inability to gather all of what Jamie is feeling. She knows one thing for certain, whatever Jamie feels is a gut-wrenching thing and Dani doesn’t have it in her to contribute to it.
Running a hand through her hair frustratedly, she turns away from Jamie to look for an escape from their argument.
“I’m not hungry,” she mumbles as she leaves the kitchen, removing herself from the tension she has grown to despise.
Once she is in the sanctuary of their bedroom, she closes the door behind her and leans against it. She huffs out a long, releasing breath as she shuts her eyes. The calm settles within her for a few seconds before it is destroyed by the drowning remorse she immediately feels in response to the argument she’s just had with Jamie. Her poor Jamie left out there confused and rejected. She can only imagine how selfish and ungrateful she must have sounded to Jamie. She pushed away the very woman who has stopped at nothing to care for her in a state of the utmost patience and love she has ever witnessed in a person.
And here Dani is. Leaned against the bedroom door, nearly crying because she has caused more trouble. She always causes trouble. Always burdens everyone at every passing moment.
Dani saunters to the bed and lays herself across it, resting on her side as she curls her knees to her chest and grabs a pillow to clutch tight to her body. She sniffles as she feels the hot, stinging tears begin to brim at her eyes, and she lets them stream. Invites them to run down her face as a reminder of her weakness and trouble.
Without warning, battering memories bombard her and she squeezes her eyes shut as a means to push them away. But they’re diligent and they remain clutched to every side of her mind. Every person she’s ever beset in her life runs laps around her thoughts in a chaotic route to constantly remind her. Her father, her mother, Judy, Eddie. Jamie. Now, Jamie. The latter being the one she tried to ensure she never troubled. Jamie’s had too much trouble in her life, she doesn’t deserve this.
Dani thinks of her dad. Killed when she was ten in a car accident in 1971. Iowa had seen its worst snow of the winter that year. The children at the elementary school were sent home for the day, and Dani who normally had to walk home, had her parents called to come pick her up. Her father gladly obliged and assured them he’d arrive in no more than twenty minutes.
Well, little, bundled up Dani in her mauve, wool coat, and yellow beanie, waited in the office, feet dangling and fingers fiddling in impatience. Her eyes were glued to the clock as she waited for her father, anticipating his arrival with an internalized giddy excitement.
Soon, the anxiety set in when twenty minutes became twenty-five. Then twenty-five became thirty. Like sludge, the time passed slowly until the thirty became an hour.
When an hour became two, a teacher huffed in annoyance and told Dani she’d take her home. Under the woman’s breath, she cursed the lack of responsibility of Dani’s father as they drove in awkward silence.
Dani didn’t understand it. Her father was the best father a girl could ask for. Always there, always tending to her. Loving her with every ounce of his being which is why Dani was so puzzled that her father never showed.
Then, at home sitting on her bed on the brink of four hours alone there, she understood. Understood when her mother returned, distraught and tear-streaked as she kneeled in front of Dani, held her arms tightly with a grip that could bruise. She looked up at her and told her bluntly, “Your father is dead, Danielle.”
Dead.
After that, everything came tumbling down. That girl Dani was before it was something so different than what she turned it to. Dani always smiled, she was always bubbling with exuberance. Then, things changed. The dynamic between her and her mother being the starkest alteration.
Before her father’s death, Dani remembers her mother’s love. The way she’d gush about Dani to others, the way she’d kiss her on the forehead every night, and say the same line every single time she tucked her in. My Danielle, my moon, and my stars. I love you, my sweet girl.
Then she changed. Words barely left her mouth, and if they did they were blatant, cruel, and monotonous. Dani knew why. Though it was never verbally addressed, Dani knew that through her mother’s grief she searched for responsibility in the face of her husband’s death and found it in Dani. No matter how irrational it was, Dani was aware that her mother blamed her. Because had Dani just walked home like she always had, her father would be alive.
If Dani had just walked. If Dani had been able to tell the universe to stop the snow. If Dani had just not been the hassle she always was, then her father would be there. Alive, not dead, alive.
Then there was the unwarranted independence. Walking around on eggshells around her mother as not to bother her. And, of course, to steer clear of the ridiculing and the reminders of her flaws. Those were abundant if Dani ever made her presence clear. Dani, in order to protect herself, built a wall between her mother and her. And it remained. Through every hurricane of a fight, every earthquake of an outburst, it stayed up because of Dani’s masterful architecture. Dani’s walls were the strongest, and it took work, so much work to break them down.
At eleven she met Edmund. The first person who started breaking through. Little by little, with every phrase of affirmation, with every relentless, warmhearted jest, with every toothy grin as he pushed up his glasses, Dani’s walls gained buckling cracks. Every moment spent with him had the countless bricks beginning to crumble under the weight of his affection and adoration.
And for years, Dani chose to feel it all. Reciprocated every ounce of love he gave her. Knew that, just like every other couple in that damn town, she’d probably spend the rest of her life with him. From that realization, she attentively pieced together who she had to be.
She was Danielle Clayton, born to Karen and David in Des Moines. A girl who practically became an orphan only to find security in her sweetheart from adolescence, Eddie O’Mara. The love of her life she proposed to herself when she was only a junior in high school. Not even an adult, merely seventeen, she had written her future. She’d be Danielle Clayton, wife to Eddie, living in a home in a redundant suburb. In a home that looked just like the others, living a life that resembled every other. They’d wake at seven in the morning, tend to the children they’d most likely have. Dani would cook them breakfast then kiss Eddie goodbye as he rushed out the door, kiss the kids as they ran to the bus. And like every other housewife, she’d remain at home, alone, waiting for their return.
Akin to the Earth revolving around the Sun, Dani would revolve around every aspect of her life so she could nurture, replenish, and love in the same way, forever. She would go every day doing the same thing, over and over. And Dani was content with that, convincing herself that a life like that was wonderful and prosperous.
However, at nineteen she felt that mundane ambition for her future begin to dwindle as she began to gain her footing in college. For the first time, she had ventured outside of the tightknit suburb on the outskirts of Des Moines and exchanged it for the most worldly, eclectic, and diverse crowd of people she had ever encountered.
Once discovering everything else the world had to offer, she felt every one of her artfully crafted aspects of her life begin to unravel. She soon realized the tools she had used to create this picturesque future were suddenly obsolete. They were exchanged with the new ones that built fervidly from bigger and inventive ideas. For the first time, Dani began questioning. Everything.
Most of all, she questioned her love for Eddie. The realization that she didn’t love him the way he loved her was an awakening that wrung her wretchedly and left her desperately wondering why she couldn’t give him what he gave to her. She reasoned she’d learn how. She’d learn how to cherish him as a lover and not a dear friend. Someday.
But she kept that habitual smile on her face for Eddie. She still returned every kiss, every hug, every intimate moment. She still chose to love Eddie in her own way. And even as her heart pounded its fists at her ribcage, begging her not to sink and oblige as Eddie got down on one knee and asked her to marry him, Dani remained poised and accepted much to her internal chagrin. Because Dani knew better. Dani knew that the consequences of breaking his heart, telling him she didn’t love him after being together for nearly eight years, would cause her to dissolve into remorse. She knew it would eat her away until she was nothing. It was safer to give in, safer to hope for the best as she was hurtled down a path she wished not to take. Because Dani knew better than to be a burden. Dani would never.
But her judgment cursed her with its unreliable nature because her refusal to accept her honest self caused her to lose the one person who had ever mattered to her. Before her very eyes, she watched Eddie succumb to the treacherous and relentless grasp of death. Mere moments after she had broken his heart.
And it was as if watching him lie there, bleeding as his life seeped from him so slowly, every bit of his heartbreak and pique slithered its way through Dani’s pores until it encompassed every ounce of her. Like little diligent workers the guilt built Dani’s walls back up, one by one each brick was put up until Dani was trapped behind them, juxtaposed between the feeling of security and entrapment. Regardless, Dani would stay there and felt neutral about it too. No one was coming in, and she certainly wasn’t going out.
Dani hears the door open, and the creak of it has her jolting subtly in surprise; she shuts her eyes to appear as if she’s asleep, so she doesn’t have to face whatever words are waiting for her. However, the only thing that comes is the shifting of the bed as Jamie lies beside her and the feeling of soft lips gently pressing against her forehead. It’s a sensation that leaves a chill running down her spine until it disperses into a sinking regret that forms in the pit of her stomach. She tries to will herself to open her eyes and look at Jamie to own up to her culpability of their argument by pulling Jamie close and offering an apology through her sincere touch and the silent expression of gentle kisses lining the curve of Jamie’s face. But she doesn’t. She lies there, squinting slightly to watch Jamie curl herself under the covers and face her with eyes closed as she quickly nods off.
Dani studies at her, the moonlight peering through the window perfectly pinpointing every line on Jamie’s aging face. The lines beside her eyes, the lines of her gently furrowed brow in her slumber, and the lines that curve around her lips. She admires them not only in their staggering beauty but also in the fact that they carry everything she’d ever need to know about Jamie. They are her route, the story of Jamie that was written with every laugh, every smile, every angry glare, every stifled bout of misery. Everything Jamie has ever felt has formed these lines and Dani wishes to lean forward to kiss them to really express her gratitude for their offering of Jamie’s story. For helping her understand and appreciate the being that is the love of her life. Her Jamie, her most beautiful Jamie who is somehow so open and honest at the same time as being closed and mysterious.
Dani remembers seeing Jamie for the first time. She sat there, watching Jamie’s every movement as she made her way through the kitchen. Dirt scoring her forehead, forearms, and hands. Overalls mud-ridden and wrinkled. If any other person looked like that, Dani may have felt judgment and distaste flow through her mind. But at that moment, nothing traveled the scapes of her mind at all. Because the only thing she could even attempt to comprehend was the very existence of the woman who had not only entered that space physically but had also entered Dani’s life without any warning at all.
And in Dani’s ever intuitive nature, she knew right then and there that Jamie was special. She felt like she had known her for her entire life. Somehow, every moment that passed in Dani’s life happened so she could be sitting right there, gawking, quite rudely too, at the woman who was merely washing up then sitting to join them for lunch. She knew it was rude to stare, had told many children about that aspect of etiquette. But, suddenly she damned etiquette because nothing would peel her eyes off of that woman. Nothing because she had never felt so captivated by another person before, and no one was going to rip that invigorating feeling from her.
As a small child, even as an adult in her twenties, there was no way Dani would have ever known that someday she’d end up finding the love of her life in a manor across the ocean. She could never have guessed that Jamie, the brown-haired, stubborn, stoic, tough, and beautiful Jamie, would be the only person who would ever matter. The only person who with just one gaze, one touch, one brush of the lips, could crash into Dani’s walls like a sledgehammer until they were tumbling down to nothingness. Until they were just debris fleeting through the wind until there was nothing left but the two of them.
And the overwhelming sense of love that Dani feels for Jamie is enough to send her lip trembling and brows knitting as she thinks of just what will happen to them. In the end, Dani will have to leave Jamie. Abandon her where she will remain alone and hollow, and Dani can’t bear the thought. Can’t bear the doomful feeling of fear and sorrow that not only will she cause Jamie so much pain, but she is petrified of what comes next. What if there is nothing left after she is gone? What if everything fades to an empty void where there would not even be a memory or a glimpse of Jamie?
Dani cannot bear it, so she turns over and away from Jamie. Physically, she faces away but metaphorically she turns her back from Jamie’s love, patience, progress. Because Dani is so tired. So tired of not being able to give Jamie what she has given her. So tired of causing so much trouble that she might as well just avoid those she hassles to prevent any more pain.
Dani is startled awake as the remnants of a nightmare are fading. Helplessly and frightened, she reaches her arm out for Jamie where she will find comfort, but her hand only meets the cold and rustled bedspread. Dani’s eyes shoot open in response to the absence of Jamie, and she immediately sits up, ears focusing on the sounds of the night for any hint that Jamie is just elsewhere in the apartment.
“Jamie?” she calls out.
But the only sound that is returned to her is silence. No one is there but her. And for the first time, she is alone in a state of vulnerability that can only be fended off if she has Jamie with her.
She gets up, sauntering out of the room, peeking through every door to find Jamie only to turn up with nothing. She looks at the main area of the apartment, eyes averting from the empty kitchen to the empty living room. Her eyes meet the door where she sees the coat rack is lacking Jamie’s black coat and the doormat is missing a pair of worn boots. Jamie is gone. Jamie has left and Dani has no idea what to do. Because Jamie has never done this, has never just up and left without warning.
Dani feels the exponential panic suspend through her as her pulse speeds up against her chest and sucks the breath from her. She runs a hand through her hair as her chest heaves out air. Her lip trembles at the realization that she’s responsible for Jamie’s leaving. And she hopes with every bit of her that Jamie is coming back. She can’t sustain the idea that Jamie is gone. Can’t seem to stand it because she’s never endured this before. So alone and afraid in the chill and deafening silence of the night.
She breaks down at the realization that she pushed Jamie away. Pushed her to leave and go off at three in the morning. Dani slides down the wall and huddles into herself as she softly weeps. Whispering Jamie’s name as she puts her face in her hands. She is strikingly aware that she has caused this turmoil. Has caused so much trouble in Jamie’s spirit that she resorted to escape.
As she sniffles away the rest of her tears and draws in a composing breath, she decides she can’t wait for Jamie to return because wherever she is, whatever she is doing, has to be brought on by what Dani did, and Dani knows she has to fix it.
So, holding onto the vague idea of where Jamie is as a beacon of hope, she throws on her coat and sneakers as she swings the front door open. She barely slips out before grabbing the keys that are hanging beside the doorframe.
She drives in the darkness of Burlington’s small downtown, eyes hazy with tears that are still brimming. Swiftly parking on the street in front of their shop, she barely gets the car in park and keys out of the ignition before she’s hopping from the vehicle and swiftly making her way to the front door. Pushing through, she feels it is promising that the door is unlocked. Jamie has to be there.
Sauntering carefully through the shop, she grows increasingly worried as she can’t find her, but her ears catch the bumping of the back door against its jam to the rhythm of the soft, whistling wind slipping through. She opens the door and is met with a view that knocks the wind straight from her.
Jamie is sitting on the asphalt path of the alley; back towards Dani, knees tucked flush to her chest, and fingers holding onto a long dissipated cigarette butt – not to mention the six other fresh cigarette butts that are littered around her. Due to her silence, Dani can only imagine the look on Jamie’s face. Can imagine her staring blankly ahead, breath steady as it rises in soft clouds from the chilled air. She’s subtly rocking and shivering from the chilled outdoors. The sight ignites a burning pain in her chest as she somehow can feel the hurt that is softly radiating from Jamie.
Dani sniffs and wipes at her nose before kneeling beside Jamie.
“Jay,” she whispers, hand coming up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. No response.
“Honey,” she speaks a bit louder as her voice is beginning to crack at the retained unresponsiveness of the brunette before her. She knows Jamie isn’t ignoring her. No, Dani is aware that Jamie is so lost in whatever world she has cruelly placed herself in that it is capturing the entirety of her attention.
“Jamie,” she tries again, voice cracking and shaking as she places two hands on either of Jamie’s shoulders to urge her to turn towards her. And with a jolt in surprise, Jamie is whipping her head around to face her with those green eyes that are now so dark, cheeks that are splotched with the countless nips from the freezing air, and eyes that are red and puffed from what she hates to admit only could have come on from tears.
“Jamie, why did you do that?” she stammers, eyes widening as she surveys Jamie, she is gathering all she needs to understand Jamie’s state. She recognizes the worry, the dread, the pain, the sorrow. And each one of those bits of emotion that Dani collects sends her deeper into malignant remorse.
She needs to touch, needs to nurture her partner before her, so both of her warm hands cup Jamie’s face, but the touch is rejected as the brunette sighs and wiggles her face free to look away. Instead, Dani settles with holding onto Jamie’s arms and caressing her fingers against Jamie’s jaw to gently urge her to look at her again.
“Talk to me, Jamie,” she pleads, voice breaking as she is granted the view of Jamie crumbling before. She feels the hot tears stream down her cheeks as she observes Jamie’s scrunching features as she fights her own oncoming tears.
Always like Jamie to fight falling into a pit of anguish. Jamie prides herself on being Dani’s rock, and Dani admires that. Loves that Jamie is her shoulder to lean on, the only person she’d ever let care for her. But now, Dani is soberingly aware that it is her turn now. She made the vow just as Jamie did, maybe not in the eyes of the law, but they remain true all the same. In sickness and health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. Dani made those same promises just as Jamie had, so Dani promises herself that she will care for Jamie. Repair every gram of affliction that is taking up her being, and send it off to a monstrous place where it can rot and die. Dani will see to it too.
Dani gently runs her hands down Jamie’s cheek soothingly and presses her lips to her forehead, and she feels the way Jamie releases to her touch. Gently, Dani requests that Jamie explain why she has come all the way to the shop at this hour, in this weather, and Dani hears that numbing agony in the way her feeble voice reassures that she just couldn’t sleep. It’s not a lie, but it is absolutely hiding her true intent.
And as Dani gently pushes further – so she can work this out – and expells the question, “Why did you walk all the way out here at three in the morning?” Jamie’s poise and strength crumble entirely. She releases the most agonizing, strangled cry as her face falls into her hands. Her shoulders shake as low sobs leave her mouth. And Dani, for a split second, is taken aback at the experience. She has never seen Jamie cry like this. Sure, she’s seen the way Jamie would obviously purse her lips and seize her muscles to prevent herself from disintegrating completely, and all she’d let loose were a few tears and shaky breaths. However, Dani has never seen Jamie fall further than that, and the way her weeping before her claws sharply at her heart and gnaws at her until a blunt, numbing pain rips through her, has Dani swiftly pulling Jamie into her to make it stop. She holds her so close to her, shushes her, lulls her, presses firm reassuring kisses to her head as she rocks her.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Jamie bellows into the safety of Dani’s chest, tugging at her shirt as a reminder that Dani is still there.
Dani, unsure of what to say, lines Jamie’s face with calming kisses, leaving a few lingering ones against her temple. She doesn’t understand the words that have come from Jamie. In fact, it takes her much too long to understand. It isn’t until Jamie claims that she so desperately wants. She doesn’t say what she wants, but Dani knows. She wants more time. It is confirmed as she continues with her rambling. As much as Jamie was hesitant to admit it, she wants her. Needs her. Jamie needs her.
“I just want you here,” Jamie helplessly whimpers. “I want that more than anythin’. I’d let it be me-,”
“No,” Dani breathes as she shakes her head.
Jamie persists, “-instead if I could have that.”
“No.”
“I’ve done every fucked up thing in the book, Dani. You haven’t.”
Internally, Dani scoffs at that. It’s so sweet of Jamie to claim that Dani has never wronged, but Dani can’t help but count every single time she has wronged someone else.
“Stop that, Jamie. It shouldn’t be you. I did what I did.”
“But, Dani,” Jamie mutters as her eyes drop to her lap, face wrinkling into affliction as soft sobs begin to leave her lips again. “God, Dani. Please don’t go,” she implores with a voice that is childlike and meek.
It’s an eye-opening demand. Dani knows she is important to Jamie, but the strangled proclamation of the necessity for her is enough to make her realize that she has to live up to it. She can’t let Jamie down and leave her. No matter how sure she is that it is inevitable, Dani will fight it fiercely and diligently. She will endure the battering, the bleeding, the tiring battle with the spirit within her because she can’t leave Jamie. Because Jamie needs her.
No matter what, Jamie will need her just as she needs Jamie. For the first time, Dani feels needed in a way she has never experienced and she’d be damned if she didn’t offer the purest, most unconditional love to Jamie. In order to give, Dani must stay. And she will.
“I won’t go,” Dani says softly, immediately regretting making that claim because she has no idea if it can be achieved, but she’ll try. She’ll do all she can to remain with Jamie. “You fought, you protected. And you’re so tired, Jamie. I see it, Jamie; you’re tired. And it’s my turn. It’s my turn.”
Dani cradles Jamie close to her, rocks her as Jamie cries in relief into her. She knows they’ll talk about this later, but right now all she needs is for Jamie to understand her commitment and know that the love Dani has for her is infinite and unconditional.
“It’s my turn to take care of you, Jamie. I don’t know how, but I will,” she says as she lifts Jamie’s eyes so they can share a reassuring gaze. She gives her a soft simper as she leans forward to place the lightest kiss on Jamie’s lips, an effort to convey her promises right through her where they can travel easily to her cognizance.
This isn’t some empty promise. Dani is determined, and she’s known for her stubbornness and diligence, so she will make it happen. It doesn’t matter if she has to learn to live with the spirit within her, or if she somehow drains every ounce of energy in her body to expel it, she will do anything to stay with Jamie. The love of her life, her best friend, her most important person. Not one thing in the entire universe could peel her from the only person she’s ever truly loved.
“I love you, Jamie, and I’ll be right here. Right here,” she says smoothly as she presses their foreheads together, brushing her thumb against Jamie’s jaw. She smiles softly, and a breath of relief disperses from her as she sees Jamie return it. “Let’s go home.”