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Every day had been the same cycle over and over again since Jill had been brought to the BSAA lab for rehabilitation. The same bad food, the same cold bed, the same repetitive tests.
Do you remember these? Do you understand this? Can you do that?
And she did, and she could, with a bit of effort. But the BSAA's researchers still didn't feel safe saying she was fine. They knew so little about the drug that had been controlling Jill, if there were any hidden side effects that were hard to find. So, they continued their endless tests for what felt like months. Maybe it was weeks. Jill wasn't sure. It was hard to keep track of time in the endless halls of the laboratory. Everything felt blank and hollow.
After being captive for almost three years, all she wanted was to feel normal again. Now she was just stuck in a different place. A better place, but still stuck. They would have let her leave if she really wanted to, but realistically, she had no other choice but to stay and let them try to help her.
When she wasn't being examined or trying to rebuild her strength, Jill found herself writing letters and emails. There were a lot of things she hadn't been able to say that she was finally free to share. She wrote letters to Barry, to Rebecca, to Carlos. To Chris, thanking him once more for saving her. It was hard to know what exactly to say to him. Nothing seemed meaningful enough. In that way, some letters didn't come as easy as the rest. Some weren't even written at all. The person Jill wanted to talk to the most was the one person she didn't know how to: Claire.
She was who Jill would have wanted to see first after all that had happened. No, not "would have;" she really did want to see Claire more than she wanted to see anyone else. But she wasn't sure what she could even say to her. Not after where they had left off. Because no dose of an evil drug could make Jill forget those vivid memories of fighting with Claire before Jill had gone missing. How it got worse every day until they had no choice but to separate for a while to clear the air.
"You can't obsess over trying to protect me from the world like this! I can handle my own. I had a job to do out there!" Claire would defend herself.
"Oh, it wasn't just that. You were chasing trouble! And the biggest thing is that you told me you wouldn't, but then you turned right around and did. It's seven years we've been together, Claire; you'd think we'd be able to actually trust in each other's promises by now," Jill would shoot back.
"I shouldn't have had to make that promise in the first place to appease you! You don't need to look after me like a child. Just because we're together doesn't mean you can control me."
"It's because I care about you! I wish that you cared enough to at least not have lied if you were so bent on going there!"
Jill had expressed extreme frustration with Claire after what happened in Harvardville. She was wary of the WilPharma conspiracies and warned her not to get too involved, out of fear for Claire's safety; other TerraSave members had been arrested from their investigations of the pharmaceutical company, and WilPharma themselves could be a threat. Jill had rather reasonable fear for Claire, and her partner had seemed to promise that she would heed her words and be careful.
Ever a free spirit, that promise was broken. Without telling Jill her plans beforehand, Claire had gone straight to the heart of the protests and consequently was thrust into more danger than Jill had even imagined was possible. Claire became an instrumental part in stopping the newly discovered bioterrorist there and left mostly unscathed, but Jill couldn't help but be upset at the way Claire had gone back on her word that she would distance herself from those risky scenarios.
So, they kept arguing. It was like nothing they had ever done before, definitely worse than the situation deserved. But once things started, it was hard to stop. Life could be stressful enough without those lovers' quarrels; it was almost like an excuse to let out all that built-up tension. An unhealthy excuse.
They each had meant well, but they were both wrong in different ways, and they both knew it. Jill had overstepped her bounds, and Claire had lied to her. However, they felt too hurt by each other to come to a good compromise. Needing to cool off, Jill and Claire distanced themselves. Just a few months after, before they could properly solve their differences, Jill had left on the mission that ended with her capture. It had been three years, and the last time Jill talked to her girlfriend had been an argument.
Girlfriend. It had been so long that she wasn't even sure she could call Claire that anymore. She was scared to find out if anything had changed in those years. Yet, if things hadn't changed at all, that didn't exactly mean they were good either.
Still, after the BSAA lab finally told Jill that they thought she was well enough to leave, the first person she wrote to was Claire. After mustering up enough courage, she sent a short message: "I'm coming back into town. I want to see you again," with a date and time she might be there, hoping Claire would be available, if just to say hello and nothing else. Jill didn't really know what she expected to find when she saw her again. Maybe the empty space she left behind had been filled by someone else. Worse, maybe Claire had secretly been glad to no longer have Jill in her life.
That thought broke Jill's heart. Claire was what had kept Jill going for the past decade, through all of the terror and heartbreak. And that's why she needed to go back to her. Because Jill didn't know how to start again if not with Claire.
From Tricell's clutches, to a painfully sterile laboratory, to a bus ride back to the woman she considered home. Jill hoped this trend of improvements would continue once she got there...
Claire hadn't known how to respond when she got that message. It had been difficult enough to comprehend the news that Jill was still alive; hearing from her felt like hearing from a ghost. And what do you say to a ghost? One who you knew you had hurt?
She didn't send a reply, but she did ensure her schedule was clear so she would be there if Jill arrived at the time she had mentioned. It all felt like a dream. And the past still haunted her like a nightmare.
When they hadn't found Jill's body and when they finally declared her dead, Claire almost blamed herself out of sadness. Thinking, what if Jill would have opted out of that fateful mission if she hadn't needed an excuse to create more space between herself and Claire?
Claire had always been stubborn to a fault. She never imagined that stubbornness could possibly be to blame for someone's death.
It was foolish to truly think it was her fault; she knew that. But when Jill's absence had left her lying awake at night for months and months and months, it was easy to overthink things. Just as it was easy to cry at the slightest memory of her love. Not like the quiet, poetic tears of an old widow staring out the window and reminiscing. No, they were loud and ugly tears. Tears that came suddenly and at the worst times.
Claire always did her best to hold herself together, but sometimes it was too much. On more than one occasion, she would have to leave meetings or events to sob in a bathroom or closet. To mourn alone when everyone else had done better to move on. To feel every muscle in her body ache with every shaky heave of her chest, longing for what she had lost. To lose control of herself until her red, swollen eyes ran dry.
It could be triggered by the smallest memory. Jill tucking her hair behind her ear. How she would always stir her coffee too fast and end up spilling some. Sunlight catching the downy hair on her cheek and making her face glow. The way she'd stretch her arms above her head and contentedly sigh. The littlest things of the past now seemed the most meaningful.
God forbid that Claire remember the way Jill would gently kiss the back of her hand as a silent way of saying "I love you," her gray eyes soft with adoration as they looked up at Claire's own. The way it made everything feel quiet and warm.
Jill had always had such an innocent way of loving, a sweeter sensation than anything else the world could offer. And Claire believed she had let that love slip away. Worse, she hadn't had a chance to win it back before it was gone forever.
Except, it wasn't really forever. Jill was still alive. And she was on her way back.
Claire couldn't focus during those painfully long days leading up to it. The other people in her life gave her plenty of space to deal with everything, as they kindly had the past few years. They all knew how much Claire must have been hurting because of how close she and Jill had always been; their fight had been incredibly abnormal. And then with Jill being declared dead, only to later be rediscovered alive, they knew Claire's emotions must have been tumultuous. And they indeed were.
The morning Jill would be arriving, Claire waited by the front door for hours, restless. She couldn't imagine doing anything but wait; everything else was so much less important. So, at the first timid knock at the door, she flung it open to see Jill standing on the other side of the doorframe. Claire's heart raced in the silence as she looked at Jill's face, changed from time and stress but so intensely familiar.
"You're actually here," Jill finally breathed, seeming relieved. "I mean, you didn't say anything back; I was worried maybe you didn't want to see me."
"Of course I wanted to see you. I just..."
Claire felt scared. More scared than any physical danger had ever made her feel. All she wanted was to reach out and hold Jill, make sure it wasn't just a dream. But the situation felt too delicate to just embrace her like that. Jill herself almost looked too delicate. She was still rather pallid from what Tricell had done to her. Although the BSAA had done well to make sure she returned to health, she looked so much weaker than the last time Claire had seen her. She was scared to touch Jill now, as if she would crumble like sand if she did.
"It's been so long. I don't know where to begin," Claire finished quietly.
Jill nodded, anxiously wringing her hands. "Yeah, I guess it has. ...I'm sorry I never said goodbye."
"You're not the one who needs to apologize."
"You aren't either."
"No, I--" Claire looked away and put a hand to her face, trying to hold back tears. "God, this is so surreal."
Jill watched Claire's distressed expression with concern. "Is everything okay?" she asked, though the answer was clearly no. And that was understandable; meeting again like everything was normal would have been impossible. Regardless of if it was an obvious question, Claire didn't answer. She instead began spilling everything that had been on her mind for ages, to the one person she felt most comfortable opening up to.
"They told me you were gone. That-- that you were dead. And I wanted to believe it wasn't true because they never found your body, but what could I do, really? If there was anyone who could have found you, it would have been Chris, and he hadn't. I had to learn to accept it, even if it would destroy any hope I ever had. And I was so mad at myself because I never set things right with you. That it ended on bad terms. So, I almost blamed myself. That maybe you wouldn't have left if I hadn't been fighting with you."
"No, Claire, no," Jill responded with heartache. "No one could have changed what happened."
"That doesn't change how much of a prick I was. I'm surprised you even came back here after I broke your trust like that."
"Because I knew you were never trying to hurt me. And because you mean the world to me. You're honestly everything I have. I was thinking about you every single day out there. All I wanted was to be with you again."
Jill then put her hand on Claire's arm, and that was enough for Claire to push aside her remaining reservations and nearly collapse onto Jill in a tight embrace. She buried her face in Jill's shoulder, her tightened throat barely forming the words, "I can't lose you again. I love you too much," as she began to sob.
Jill allowed herself to cry as well, both from the relief of finally being back in her true love's arms and from the pain of how long they had each been hurting. She wished she could promise Claire that they'd never be separated like that again, but that was too far out of her control. So, she only said what she knew for certain. "I love you too."
Though it was far from comfortable to keep sitting over the threshold of the entryway, they didn't want to let each other go. It was the start of making up for lost time. Half inside, half outside, meeting in that halfway. All barriers finally gone, after so many long months of sorrow. It was bittersweet, and it was difficult to fathom, but it was the closest thing to a moment of inner peace either had in a long time.
They stayed there for countless minutes until Jill leaned back, wiped away Claire's tears, and suggested that maybe something like food would help them feel a bit better. It sounded like a welcome distraction, and Claire easily accepted.
They were mostly quiet in the kitchen, trying to go through everyday motions without thinking too much on the difficult things remaining. It felt so peaceful for Jill to be back home, the subtle memories of sunny breakfasts, sitting on the counter, stealing bites of each other's cereal flooding back into her mind. "...This room's exactly like I remember it. Almost like I never left."
Claire nodded slightly. "Well, I didn't want to risk changing anything that would make me lose any memories of you."
"I wish I hadn't changed, then," Jill responded, her hand almost instinctively moving to touch her hair. It was the biggest tell of what she had gone through, drained of color and thinner than it had been before. It was hard to say if it would ever return to normal. She hoped it wouldn't make anyone see her differently. Especially not Claire.
"Come on, it wasn't your fault," Claire said like a plea for Jill to stop blaming herself for any of it. Claire's words fell to a whisper so her voice wouldn't crack as she continued, "It wouldn't matter to me, anyway. You'll always be my beautiful, Jill."
Jill didn't have a verbal response. She instead took Claire's hand from across the countertop and kissed the back of her fingers. And Claire understood.
They barely ate, eventually abandoning the idea of food to migrate over to the couch, just staying together in quiet between the short questions they asked each other just to pretend life was casual enough for small talk again.
"Did they treat you well at the lab?"
"It was alright. I know they were trying to help me; that's what matters. Uh, did they ever fix things around here? Is that big pothole still down the street?"
"Yeah, nearly dented a wheel on it last week."
Jill smiled. "You know, I missed hearing you rant about cars and bikes."
"Really? I thought you hated it. I never knew when to shut up."
"I've always liked what you were passionate about. ...I never meant to get in the way of it. Maybe I was selfish, but I just wanted to keep you safe."
"I realize that now. I wish I had a long time ago," Claire replied solemnly.
Things then felt too heavy again, and a return to silence won out over the alternative. So, they just sat together in the quiet, gradually moving ever closer to one another. Eventually, Jill ended up asleep with her head in Claire's lap. Claire didn't dare to disturb her in the slightest. She still needed rest, and Claire felt grateful that she was willing to stay so close; it helped her feel trusted again. Even if Jill had already forgiven her, Claire still needed to forgive herself.
As she softly traced her fingertips back and forth across Jill's cheek, she was eventually lulled to sleep as well. For the first time in a while, it was a completely restful, nightmare-free sleep. By the time they both finally woke, the sky had began to darken. Rising to something new, it was tempting to pretend the troubled past had only been a dream. To just smile at each other, share a kiss, and continue with life like nothing had happened.
The uneasy feeling that grew when they came close quickly shattered the illusion. The couple fell back into a tight embrace, holding on like they'd slip away if they didn't. It was strange how being together could both make them happy beyond comprehension but also so sad. The past wounds they regretted couldn't just disappear easily. It would take time for life to feel normal again.
And normal was all that was needed. Because Claire knew things might never be perfect, per se. It wasn't that easy for them. They were both busy people that frequently got so caught up in life that they inadvertently pushed one another aside. But things didn't need to be perfect. They just needed to be fine. Fine enough to always come back together when things started falling apart.
Needing that reassurance, Claire asked Jill, "Are things okay?"
Jill held on tighter. Hurting was over; it was time to offer healing. "Things are okay," she affirmed. "Things are finally okay."