Chapter Text
2011.11
Jessica always remembered when her relationships went to the downfall. Ironically, it was often the same time when she tried the hardest to prevent it from happening.
It was scary, to consider how everything wonderful might end because she acted in the wrong way. She didn't want it to happen again. But whenever she tried to repress the fear, it grew into something far worse. She remembered a story about a mother prayed, asking angels to stop her ill child's suffering. In the end, it did stop, but the child died. Maybe she also made the wrong wish.
She just hoped good times could last. Her first kiss with Ellie at prom. Laughter she shared with John in his short day-offs. The day Kara went back to her. But in the end what she had left were all sad endings. Those moments did last, in the form of good memories, but good memories were still sad because memories meant time ran out, and stories were cut off.
And here was the end of it. Jessica sat on the empty bed, holding a key so cold no matter how long she pressed her palm on it, it never felt warm.
Things had always been perfect in the beginning. She hoped nothing would change, so when she was nervous, afraid, or sad, she smiled and stayed calm. It should work. She'd learned the trick for as long as she could remember. Ask anyone. Ask her Mom. Jessica was the best daughter one could ever ask for. She could understand things when her playmates still hadn't. Being such a big girl, Jessica could even comfort her mother when her parents fought. That year she was five, and she was all relieved because her words stopped the dead silence crawling in the house. She did well. There wouldn't be any bad things happening.
Apparently, she wasn't good enough.
Her mother wouldn't understand her and Ellie, so Jessica postponed whatever she had to say until it was too late. When she was with John, she passively encouraged her mother's misunderstanding. It was just a fling. Nothing serious. When John told her he was considering to re-enlist, she said she understood. What she tried to say was she'd be happy being his wife even when it meant they'd be separated most of the time. What she bit back was that she was so afraid. She'd never make him choose between her and what he wanted to do. It was okay. There was no need to leave her.
She kept screwing up. She couldn't even convince herself that she was okay. They must feel it. She was being emotional and untrustworthy. Of course, they didn't choose her.
The only once she was confident of when to do what, she got married. Things didn't end well. To be fair, she'd experienced lots of fear at the end of her marriage. But it was different. The fear Peter had caused was predictable, familiar. She got punished because she acted wrong. She'd avoid doing it again, and Peter would be happy and calm and told her she was the best wife any man could have. Everything was okay.
It was not okay. But back then, her todays felt less scary than the unpredictable tomorrow if she stepped away. Might be why it took her so long to take the first step. If it wasn't Kara showed up in her life by accident, she might still be stuck there. She was probably already dead.
Jessica never told her, but Kara carried a determination into her life, giving her courage to imagine a different possibility. Not all scaring, but also exciting, potentially meaningful and fulfilling. Jessica even asked Kara to stay in her life. And Kara said yes.
Kara wasn't very talkative. Her eyes revealed more than her lips, and the way Kara stared at her, it made her feel covered, palmed, like her existence was recognized and loved. The impossible part was she did nothing to earn that. If she was loved not for something she did right, didn't it mean she'd never lose it?
Kara loved her, Jessica was sure about it. What Kara did for her was harder than saying those three words. It wasn't easy, given her job, but Kara promised to come back to her, and she always did. Because of all those things Kara ever told her, either it was the truth, or Kara made it one.
Sometimes Jessica went back home and found an exhausted Kara in bed. Sometimes Kara was hurt. She'd let Jessica check her wounds while caressing her frowned eyebrows like she was the one needed comfort. Sometimes Kara didn't have time to meet. There'd be coffee and a note, so Jessica knew she dropped by, still alive and thinking of her.
Then, fate sent her a gift. At least for a while, Jessica believed it that way.
It was a late night. Jessica woke by sounds in their bathroom. It was Kara. Jessica had never seen her this haggard, and her mouth dried at an urge of wanting to hold her, to ask what'd happened. But Kara was alive, and she said she didn't need to go back to work for a while.
Jessica checked those injuries, feeling her skin's warmth. After her worries gradually faded and she digested what Kara had said, she was thrilled. Jessica didn't expect her dream to come true this early. She thought she'd have to wait until they were old and Kara retired from the job, and, of course, if they were lucky enough to live till then.
At first, when they started to spend most of their times together, sometimes Kara seemed lost like she was given a blank map without directions. Jessica invited Kara to join her daily activities more. Her online floral business had been doing great, and she was thinking to have a shop as well. They found a place to rent. Kara helped a lot during the preparatory period. Sometimes Kara would leave for a few days. Jessica thought she was doing errands for her job and didn't ask. Things got better, and together they built a new life.
Six months. They'd been together for six months before Kara left her.
One day Kara carried a suffocating silence home. She avoided eye contacts with Jessica. She didn't volunteer anything. And she spent too much time in the bathroom alone. Something was bothering her. Jessica wasn't naive, deep down, she knew there'd be a price of Kara's long leave. The question was to pay it out front or after, and how much her boss was going to ask.
Jessica hoped there was anything she could help, but she felt like an idiot. What if Kara realized she was useless to her? She didn't ask, and she felt like a coward, turning her back to the truth Kara had been telling her since they met. They were never meant to be living in the same life.
Today Jessica went home to discover the key laying on her nightstand. Kara left their house without leaving a note. She'd picked up her clothing and guns even her toothbrush. Everything belonged to her. Except for the key. Except for her.
Jessica replayed their last few days over and over, but there was no answers nor closures could be found in memories. No matter how hard one stirred it, happy moments only went sour.
The following days passed like a fever dream. Jessica kept waking from and falling back to it. Time shattered from its track. More than once she rushed back home, thinking Kara might stand by the door because that stupid girl forgot her key. She'd lecture her then hug her. No, hug before the lecture. Cancel the lecture. She'd tell her everything was okay now that she was back.
None of these happened.
Jessica couldn't concentrate while working. She didn't want to cook after work. She went direct to her bed and hugged the pillow, pretending nothing had changed. Everything smelled the same.
A few days later, Jessica decided to check the fridge. There were two bottles of unopened milk, and her vision blurred. She curled down to hug herself, pouring out all the unnamed feeling that had choked in her chest.
In their last morning, Jessica stopped before she went through the door. Kara was sitting at the table, distraught. Maybe she should stay home and talk with her.
"Hey, honey." Jessica came close and bent down for a kiss. "You okay? Need anything?"
"Why? No." Kara's palm slipped down from Jessica's forearm to the wrist, and then gently held it. "I'm going to the shop. Need anything?"
"Well." They could still discuss it later, Jessica decided. "We're running out of milk."
Kara kept caressing the inner side of her wrist for a while, around her pulse point. "Sure."
Jessica poured the milk into the sink. They'd passed the expiry date.
The reason why Kara returned the key was obvious, once Jessica had thought it through. A year ago, she asked Kara to come back from a world full of danger and blood, so that they'd have moments together, so that she'd have Kara's existence dropped here and there in this world. Hair tangled in her comb. Clothes left in her closet. Wrinkled bed sheets.
Kara left the key not because she had no place in this life, but because Jessica had no place in hers.
Jessica had always thought Kara's promise was a thread leading her back home alive, until now, she realized Kara might not view it the same way. Their agreement was a door for her to come through, and Kara didn't need it anymore. Whatever Kara was going to do, she decided not to take Jessica because she wasn't qualified to pass the door.
And here was the scariest thing. Knowing Kara had the key gave her a blind-trust that Kara would be safe and alive, because, how else could she keep the promise? Now the table was turned, if Kara died somewhere across the world or just at the corner near her apartment, Jessica would never know.