Chapter Text
I hear her flats on the cement floor as she moves to leave the basement. She came when Sam was gone, off somewhere. “See you then,” I say, my tone flippant, lifting the open bottle to my lips as I hear her step on the first step of the stairs. The second step doesn’t come though and Donna, standing by the record player, watching Jackie as if she was her personal bodyguard glared at me. I shrug my shoulders and sat the bottle down. It was too warm now.
Of course I knew what was going on with Jackie, why she was suddenly picking up her stuff- though I’m sure Donna would’ve brought it to her. Maybe this was her putting herself back into the basement again, coming back to the circle now that enough time had passed. It made no difference to me though, no matter how much Foreman and Donna harped on about Jackie and her life. I was with Sam now, despite the weirdness of it.
“You know what, Steven,” Jackie’s voice is hard and pushing, getting me to twist in my seat easily as she looks not at me, but at the wall. I use that moment shamelessly, hidden well behind my shades, I look her up and down- not because she’s hot, which she is, but because she’s different.
It’s in the way she holds her shoulders, straighter and more confident than she’s been around me these past months. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, longer than when I had last seen here. Suddenly I remember when she was barely 15, begging me to teach her my ‘Zen’ ways and fawning over me like I was some knock-off white knight.
She still dressed the same as she always did, more grown in style, more work-ready it seemed. It was like she was ready to face the world head on. She was adult now, I realized. In the space that had grown between us, she had come into herself and I didn’t know how to feel about that, that I might not exactly know the woman standing on the first wrung of the stairs, box of her stuff Sam had cleaned out of my place, balanced on her hip.
She turns slightly and I startle inside as her eyes land on me. When was the last time we actually talked? It struck me that we had gone quite a while without talking when we had talked everyday over the course of three years, even if it was only through a phone. When I met her eyes, I expected them to be filled with anger and heat, stuff I’m used to when it comes to Jackie. She wasn’t a calm sort of person who liked to talk shit out rationally. Jackie was a spitfire little tank that drove at you head on, headlights flashing. She was a storm that had to be weathered because there was no settling until she had her say.
I was ready for that storm, prepped and braced. I was ready to hash it out to get us over this bump and find the new normal. Sure, I was married and Jackie had a job and our lives were moving on, but we could be friends again, maybe, something like. So I meet her eyes and how long had it been since I had been face to face with her? I didn’t have an answer. When Sam came into the picture, Jackie had… well, disappeared. Looking at her, eyes to mismatched eyes, I realize just how much time has passed between us.
There’s nothing there. I twist a little more in my chair, to see better, I tell myself, not to get closer, to look closer.
I huff a breath and square myself, ready for her anger and the yelling. Ready to deal with the angry woman of 5’2” glaring me down like I just took and burned all the unicorn dolls in the world. I knew how to withstand her. That’s what I was prepared for as my mind refocuses and I see her again standing as if she was ready to stomp toward me but instead her eyes just... empty. There’s no fire, no burning hatred or sadness. She’s looking at me as if I’m just a person, someone with no history to her. Someone who is just a stranger.
Zen, I think. A front, a façade. I should be proud. I thought her that, helped her master that calm when the anger became too much. I walked her through the menstruations of how to push away the annoying feelings, those moments of rage; how to relax your body starting from your toes and fingers, making them like jelly until it burns away. Until it’s all gone and you’re left feeling Zen. And here she was, looking at me with all the Zen she learned, cutting me off from her completely. Was I feeling pride? I wanted to, because damn, but it nudges me that she’s using it against me.
But there’s something else in it too. Something I can see but not read. I knew Jackie, no, I know her. I know her still. She was... a thought in my head, unwanted, but present, tells me that I don’t. I don’t know the woman in front of me, that this is more than my teachings, more than just a face. I push it away. I don’t care, I remind myself. Just have the fight and move on.
Whatever happened was her fault anyway. Jackie was the starter of all this back in the hotel room, not me or even Sam, no matter how much they want to throw the blame elsewhere. I don’t care but for the group, I would fight it out with Jackie. And also to get Donna off my case. Her anger was fucking annoying. Every time you walked into a room, she was waiting to shoot you down; each insult or dig like a soft bullet. One was fine enough, easy to brush off but the more shot at you would eventually leave a bruise, or seven.
That means I have to see this through and push away whatever lingers between us, to get back to the beginning... if that still existed. But how to do that when there was nothing to poke at?
I looked at her, really looking, to see past the mask, and those thoughts in my head reared up again no matter the force I tried to use to push them away, because no. But there it was.
Her eyes were just empty, blank- like the anger was just gone. Like it had never existed at all. That’s fine. I tell myself cause isn’t this better? Isn’t this how it should be? The way to get back to normal, to the beginning? A fresh start? This was that right? But her eyes. They seized me because it wasn’t the look of someone who was just writing the past off to move on to a peaceful reconcile. I don’t care.
This moment was her deciding that this was a fight she was better not having. A bridge that was better looking as ashes. That whatever was between us still was better left alone. As we stare at each other, what should be tension building, is no understanding that used to come through her. I can’t get any read on her and I can’t even admit that it scares me. She adjusts the box on her hip, her lips rolling inward, pressed tight as she nods, not to me, but to herself. She doesn’t look at me again as she walks up the stairs, no parting words at all. All I have is the last moment she used my name. God, this woman was infuriating.
How long would I have to wait before we just dished it all out? I shook my head and looked back at the TV, not actually seeing the people move around on screen. She was too much in my head now. I didn’t know I could feel from the words she said anymore, or the words she refused to say. I was always a one woman guy and now there was Sam. There wasn’t room for Jackie and yet I felt uncomfortable, off kilter.
And it came to me why; her just walking away hurt. I was disappointed because I wanted to fight with her because much more than the biggest fight I had had with Sam, every fight with Jackie was a restart button. But this… I don’t care. I tell myself again. Jackie and I were history and Sam was my wife, because sure, that makes sense.
Jackie would be back again and we’d fight it out and figure out how to be something like friends. That was it. That was all there was. She fucked it all up and here I was, waiting to put the pieces back in place, but god damn- could she not do her part? I had shit to say too, words that pressed on my brain with nowhere to go. Damn it, why is she kicking up these feelings? I shove the thoughts back to where they need to be: far from my current reality.
I watch Donna from the corner of my eyes as she looks between the stairs, where Jackie’s last step takes her into the kitchen, and me, sitting still, acting like I’m watching the show. I sit back in my chair and adjust my glasses. Whatever.
“Hyde,” Donna’s voice, sharp and full of disgust, “You’re such an ass.” Yeah, whatever. I don’t care. I’m the asshole, okay. Sure I got married when Jackie had been hounding me for the same thing, but did everyone forget Jackie had been in a hotel room with a naked Kelso? When she had given me the ultimatum? Not like I care. I tell myself again, my foot starting to bounce with restlessness, a sign that I try to ignore.
Jackie didn't have an effect on me anymore. I stare at my bouncing leg. She can’t. I won’t bleed because of her. She gave up any right to my affections, my reactions, that night. She didn’t have any part of me. I look around, growing annoyed and agitated. No matter how much I repeated that to myself, I couldn’t stop myself from getting up and reaching for my keys.
The sharp teeth biting into my palm as I held them tight, walking for the door, being chased by memories of Jackie, ones she left to crowd me in the wake of her absent words. This was a new sort of warfare. It was something I didn’t know how to fight just yet but they circled and clung, each something I didn’t want to remember. That was the problem and I had to get out of here. I can’t deal with this right now. I didn’t need to figure Jackie out anymore, she wasn’t my problem.
My feet jump into motion, ready to run away- no, I didn’t run away... I didn’t run first, I tell myself and my feet take the stairs two at a time. I reached the garage and voices drift towards me. As if I need to hear her right now and yet I follow her voice, listening to her. My eyes find her hidden behind the Vista Cruiser, Donna at her side.
“-know what he’s done bu-“ I realize that it’s hard listening to a conversation halfway through. It’s like working on a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
“I’m done discussing this, Donna.” Her tiny hands shut the trunk with more force than necessary and then there she is. Her face isn’t a void anymore. Heat races through her eyes, angry and fierce, her words biting and I slip backward toward the shadows. I’m not quite sure why I hide, why can't I will my feet to move to my car, to interrupt their conversation?
“I’m done walking around here like everything is fine when it’s not.” She points out and I wish she would stay, even though I shouldn’t. I hate the weakness in me coming out. I was through with Jackie, I was. I repeat it like a mantra. “You know he doesn’t care and honestly I’m done caring. I’m done hurting.” Her words are stressed and her hand combs through her hair. Her tick, showing her agitation without being obvious. I have seen her do it a thousand times and it comforts me now. That tick means she’ll be back and we’ll fight, we’ll get over this. It means she cares.
Maybe, maybe Jackie was running away too. Maybe she needed to get away for a bit before dealing with this. I used Sam as a means, but Jackie didn’t have that. Maybe this was her way of moving on and that was fine. Cause it just meant the fight would happen later, when she was ready and I could wait- “I’m leaving, Donna” her voice is final and she moves around the car to the backseat door. “Once Eric drops me off at the bus station, I’m done.” She says, her voice sad and breaking, but still strong, resolute. Eric comes out from the house, swinging his keys around his fingers, oblivious of the tension or maybe just ignoring it as he walks by them to get to the other side of his car. “Are you coming or not?” Jackie asks.
I see Donna’s shoulders lose their fight, giving up at trying to reason with Jackie for now. “I was never really part of it all anyway.” Jackie says, defeat lacing through her words and she opens the door, but takes a second, a moment to just look around her, looking at the house where we had spent our youth and then as if that was enough, she got in the car.
“Jackie…” Donna starts in as she opens up the passenger side door, “you can’t just walk away from us.”
Then it all hits me. Everything from the past ten minutes playing in my head. Jackie coming to get the box herself was connected to the look over the house. Final, it read. Finished. Her last moment looking at me connected to her words with Donna. Done. She was never part of it… Donna telling her she can’t walk away… Gone. The words and actions echo through me and I feel the thud of my heart more intensely as they all connect, forming a single thought: goodbye.
Jackie wasn’t just running away, she was clearing herself out. I was never really part of it all... My feet stumble, fighting my brain that says remain in place. I stare at her as she shakes her head at whatever Donna says next as Eric pulls out of the drive. I stare at her as she doesn’t look back, where she would see me standing in the driveway as he heads away from the house.
I want to see her face, her eyes. I need to read her and see what she is thinking. She’s not taking a break. She’s leaving it behind now, isn’t she? She’s not just avoiding me or being tired of it- she is done. That was my goodbye.
No- no, not- no. I tell myself, taking my glass off, closing my shut, pinching the bridge of my nose to focus. This was just bullshit- a test. It was- I remind myself that this is Jackie, full of empty threats to get her way. She’ll be back in a week, I tell myself because Jackie never really stays away. It's always just empty threats.