Monday, September 3rd 2012 ? Late Evening (part 1)

It had been a day full of chaos, full of hurt. There hadn't been many upsides to it -- that Ben hadn't been in the building when it happened (though that thought, that he was minutes away from almost assuredly dying, was traumatic by itself, even if it was a positive) was about the only one, at least until now. Of course this was going to be difficult too, but it was better than being at the scene. If maybe he could forget, even for an hour or two.

He doesn't look good when he comes in through the door, disheveled, dusty, his tie is missing, so is his jacket, his sleeves are rolled up, shirt untucked -- and just worn out. But he doesn't expect anybody else here to look much better, emotionally. "Hey," he's calling as he shuts the door, gets rid of his shoes. "It's me," and he's heading right to the kitchen whether he hears a response or not, because he hasn't eaten since early morning.

The house in general is rather quiet, frighteningly so for how many Daniels and company are in one spot. The living room of Jackie?s place has become home base, with various family members, friends, and even Molly watching the non-stop news reports that had been unfolding throughout the day. Everyone was hoping for that moment when the words SURVIVORS FOUND scrolled across the screen. For hours now, it never came.

Jackie had taken to the kitchen to busy herself with warming the barely touched dinner from earlier. A pot roast, baked potatoes, and steamed carrots along with a boat of gravy. When the cards were down, she could cook comfort food.

At the sound of his voice those in the living room had turned, offered nods of greeting, forced smiles, and mumbled hellos. The way Ben looked they figured he wanted to be disturbed just as little as they did. Ben had given a smile as tired as theirs had been forced to the group in the living room. He knew that they knew that if he'd had any news, they'd already know it. They don't need to hear there isn't any.

Once he reached the kitchen door he was met with Jackie's arms winding themselves around his torso. It didn't matter how dirty he was from the day?s work, she didn't care. She at least had sense enough to not be rough with him considering he had been putting in time all day long, but it didn't stop her from pouring her relief of seeing him into that hug. For the moment she can't find the words.

What do you say? There's nothing. So instead of saying anything, he's catching Jackie in an embrace when she puts her arms around him. It's what he's wanted to do all day. One arm tight around her, his other hand buried in her hair, at the back of her head, he's pressing a kiss to the top of her head after a moment of just holding her. "Thanks for dinner," it's a murmur into her hair, and he isn't letting go until she does.

It's one moment of solace that she had been looking forward to since the news broke. This is what she had been craving. She was thankful for her family being here, she was thankful that Ten was here, that everyone was together and safe during these hard times. But she wanted him, his arms around her, and his strength added to hers. "Dinner ain't nothin'." The words were mumbled, her throat obviously worn just like the rest of her. Just like everyone else was. Even though she spoke she made no move to release him. Unfortunately for Ben and his stomach, Jackie would drag this moment out just a little longer. "We're all thankful fer you bein' there helpin'. We're thankful fer everyone, but... it means a lot. An' keepin' us up to date." Not that there was anything to update them with. "It was nice feelin' like we had someone there with our best interest at heart." She took the time now to loosen her hold on him, but only so she could tilt her head back to peer up at him. One hand was drawn from around his back to cup his jaw, her thumb brushing his cheek. It was an effort to comfort him as he was doing for her.

He's nodding a little for the thanks she's expressing, but, "I just wish I had good news..." Or that he could do more, somehow, that he could work all night and all day tomorrow -- and on and on until the wreckage is cleared away, until everyone is found, and found safe. Of course he knows that isn't possible. Doesn't stop him from feeling just a little bit helpless inside.

When Jackie reaches up to cup his jaw, he presses his hands to her cheeks, ducks down to kiss her. It's a short-lived thing, with something a little desperate bleeding into it, and he continues to frame her face with his hands when he breaks the kiss. "Just wish I could do more." He has to say at least that much. "How are you holding up..?" Doesn't want to ask, but he has to.

"I know... I know..." Wanting good news. Jackie does, too. They all do. Something to hold onto, some sort of hope rather than blind faith. They all feel helpless today and out of all of them he was able to accomplish the most.

The brush against his cheek is steady until his lips find hers in that kiss. Her fingers curl just behind his jaw, wanting to keep him there until this was all said and done. But their lips part, her bottom lip following in a faint pout. The emotions and the facial expressions, they all felt so weak and foreign to her but they would slip through now and then even though she battled all day to keep them in check. "Yer doin' all y'can, Ben. That's all anyone can do, all anyone can ask for."

His question causes her brows to knit and everything about the way she looks, the way her features crumble, says one thing. Even the glance towards the kitchen door frame, all too aware that her family is sitting just a room away. That is why when she looks back to him her lips are saying something completely different. "I'm fine. An' you need to eat." She's releasing him now, attempting to slink away back to the counter where she was finishing his dinner plate.

He lets go of her when she pulls away, and he doesn't call her on it -- of course he doesn't. Not now, not today. Not over this. Let her have the facade if she wants it -- especially with her family in the next room. "You ate already, didn't you?" Not above checking up on her to make sure that she's taking care of herself at least marginally in all of this, that she doesn't get too distracted by caring for others.

For a second, he wants to follow her -- it's hard right now, to be physically apart, even only a few feet -- but instead he just sinks down in a chair at the table. "I'll only be here a couple of hours. I need to go back out." He's biting his lower lip for a second, watching her, but he doesn't voice any other thoughts for now.

"I'm not hungry." The words come back flat and without hesitation, no attempt to hide it. She had made sure the others had at least got a little something on their stomachs and that was satisfactory to her. Once his plate is finished she's moving that way to set it in front of him along with a napkin and silverware.

She's stopping by his side, fingers brushing through his hair at the top of his head before planting a kiss on the spot. "Eat, then you can shower an' sleep." This is the mode she had been in since he got off the phone with her. That lost young girl had been replaced by making plans, gently giving orders, and making sure everyone else had what they needed. She lingered at his side, fingers still combing his hair. It was a matter of trying to find the balance. Letting him do what he needed to do to rest while at the same time she wanted nothing more than to collapse against him and not let go. "What d?yah want to drink?"

He figured that that would be the answer she gave. "Just water is fine. And get another fork, because you're eating some of this with me." It's not stern, really -- he's too tired for that, and her fingers in his hair at this point, at this level of exhaustion, are close to lulling him to sleep -- but it's matter of fact, enough that it's clear he's not going to take any protesting from her.

Ben's glad to see her like this, more like the Jackie Daniels he's used to, but at the same time, he knows she can't keep this up -- shouldn't have to keep this up. "In fact, I'll make you a deal..." Tilting his head back so he can see her; there's a ghost of a smile at his mouth. "Eat some of this with me, and you can stay with me while I take a nap."

When he gives his demand of sorts, there's no huffing from her. She doesn't even remove the fingers still stroking his hair. Just like him, she's too tired to waste energy on pointless fighting. Besides, now isn't the time for that. This is the time when they had to stay strong together. When he tilts his head back her gaze drops to meet his. The offer sinks in and there's no smile but there's just a tiny amount of levity, the bare sliver of it she'll allow herself. "Detective, do y'think I'm so taken by yah that somethin' like that is gonna make me do what y'say?" She's pressing a kiss to his forehead now, this one lingering longer. Today she's learned just how much you have to cherish kisses, hugs, and goodbyes. She's moving to the fridge first, grabbing a bottle of water. After that she's stepping over to a drawer.

"Yeah," he answers without pause, his eyes falling shut while her lips are against his skin, "I do think that." When she pulls away from him, the smile is just a little wider, a little crooked, but it fades quickly, and once she's getting water and a fork, he's digging right in to the food. Usually he's a ravenous eater, but tonight he's taking his time -- no appetite.

When her hip is pushing the drawer closed she has a fork in hand and bare feet are padding back along towards him. The water bottle is set down and another chair is pulled in close. It seems there's no such thing as personal space tonight.

He doesn't mind the lack of personal space, reaching over to light his fingertips on the back of her arm when she sits down. It's just idle, absent touch, and unless she breaks the silence, he's content to eat in quiet. It's the first time since everything went to hell that he's really had a chance for any.

Once she was seated she looked aside at him and offered a faint, "Know it all." Other than that she lets him eat in peace. Her hand not holding the fork found its way to his thigh, a simple need for contact that won't disturb him during his dinner. Staying true to her word, somewhat, she stabbed at a carrot and brought it to her lips to idly nibble at. It became her process. Taking her sweet time taking little bits of carrot and when one was finished it was followed by another. She assumed, hoped, he wouldn't call her out on it. She had nothing in her when it came to fighting, or anything really, except silently praying for hours on end.

Oh, he noticed -- Adam had been a picky eater -- but he didn't call Jackie out on her barely-eating until he'd finished about three-quarters of what was on the plate. "You're eating the rest," he tells her as he's getting up, brushing a kiss to her temple. It's not as much as he wants her to eat, of course, but he can't push that right now. Doesn't have it in him for anything more than the matter of fact statement. "I'll be in bed in fifteen. See you there?" Just a little lift at the end of that -- not really even a question, just a touch of uncertainty. But uncertain or not, he's still taking a step back in the direction of the entry to the kitchen, toward the stairs.

Even that kiss to the temple couldn't soften the grimace she gave with his oh-so-sweet demand. But it were his final words that drew a nod and a little more determination from her. They had a deal and if this is what it took she would stay true to her word. "See yah in fifteen." The words were barely lifted towards his fleeting back and she was already stabbing her fork into a bit of the leftover baked potato.

The remainder of the plate had been slowly cleared. Maybe it was good that he had her eat. She had realized that apparently she had been hungry and that was enough to ease her stomach for now. The leftovers were put away again and she made a final check on those in the living room only to find that they seemed to quietly clear out without her being aware. Apparently they felt Ben's arrival was a good time to take their leave. It was fine with her. More than likely tomorrow morning it would all start over again, hopefully with better results than today.

((Taken from live play with Ben Sullivan))

Tuesday, September 4, 2012 -- Late Morning

Jackie figured it would be good for her to get outside of the house. In reality it was only good for her to be on her way to seeing the rest of her family, Ben, and being amongst other people who were aiming their efforts towards helping those trapped in SPI. Outside was doing nothing but pissing her off. The sun was too bright, the birds were too loud, and too many people were going about their business like nothing was wrong. Weren't these people aware that her brother and his best friend amongst a slew of others were trapped in a collapsed building not far from here? If she could have whipped each one of them with a stick in passing she just might have. Maybe it would make her feel better.

Instead she continued on in a diligent stride towards the SPI building, or what was left of it, in silence. She was carrying a folded chair in a thin sheath of plastic material over one shoulder along with a tote holding a pillow and throw blanket. These were Dylan's requests for Ten. In addition to that she was hefting along a small cooler filled to the brim with sandwiches and bottles of water for those at the scene. It felt odd and wrong to be walking like this, more fitted for a day of Nascar or a tailgate than waiting for any signs of Colt and Harper beneath the crush of rock.

She spotted Ten and Dylan first, lingering at the edges of a taped off area that seemed to be guarded by the City Watch. She was making a mental note to text Ben once she got the cooler set down, but to her surprise he was already there. The usual Daniels greetings were passed out along with Dylan taking the seat, throw, and pillow so she could start talking Ten into taking a break. While she was busy with that Jackie was turning her gaze on Ben. "Brought plentya food and drink fer, y'all. Yah need tah get somethin' in yer stomach." It wasn't the sweetest of greetings, no, but it was Jackie still in take control mode.

Ben had been at it since ... late last night? Early this morning? It had been dark out when he got to Jackie's, dark out when he returned here. The sun came up over the wreckage. It wasn't pretty. It was even worse, because as the day wore on, they'd only been pulling bodies from the rubble. No survivors since last evening. And Ben, while not a pessimist, was not an optimist, either. Faith wasn't something he had a lot of, most of the time; his stores had run dry a few years ago, had never been replenished.

He'd mostly just been BSing with the Daniels girls, telling them there hadn't really been any real news, reluctant to go into any details. He'd been in it all day -- he doesn't need to rehash things they could just get from the news. When he catches sight of Jackie, he perks up a little (even if he's still dirty, dusty, and still looks exhausted -- but didn't they all by now?). At least he wasn't ruining good clothing today, dressed in jeans, motorcycle boots, and a black tee. The five sets of stitches on his right forearm were still bandaged over, and had not, thankfully, gotten any questions. "Alright, okay..." He's trying to sound put off by her take-charge attitude, but really, there's a hint of amusement in his face, his tone, the way he puts his hands up a little in mock surrender. "Nice to see you too." He's going into the cooler after that to grab a sandwich and a bottle of water. "You wanna go for a walk?" He doesn't wait for her answer; he's already headed off, leisurely, in the opposite direction of the collapse scene, while unwrapping the sandwich he'd grabbed so he can start devouring it.

His hands lifting in surrender made her pause and squint at him. Alright, that wasn't the proper way to say hello. An entire morning of not being around people and apparently she lost any sort of skills she had. She checked to make sure that Dylan and Ten were alright. Dylan had somehow managed to get Ten into the chair and was now working on getting her to eat a sandwich. That was a battle Dylan could handle. Hell, Jackie was sure she somewhat reveled in it. Knowing the others were alright she's following along after Ben.

"Alright, alright. Lemmie try that one more time." She's quickening her pace just enough to slip in front of him, a hand resting against his chest to bring his casual pace to a stop. "Afternoon, Detective." She makes sure to time it so he doesn't have a mouthful of sandwich, then she's leaning up on her toes to press a firm yet chaste kiss to his lips. It didn't matter if he was dirty and dusty. It was all for the cause. Satisfied she was sinking back down flat to her feet. "I've been missin' yah."

He's not exactly sure what she's up to when she stops him in his tracks, but after she pushes up on tiptoe and kisses him, he's grinning. "Afternoon, Peaches. I've been missing you too." He tucks his bottle of water under one arm, wipes his newly freed hand uselessly on his jeans before reaching over to take Jackie's hand and continue strolling along. "I might not be coming home tonight. There's a lot to do here -- I can sleep here for a couple of hours; they're setting up a spot for us. There's still a lot of people missing." He's sobered up considerably. Not sure what to tell her, how much she wants to know.

Jackie feels much better about that greeting, clear by the brief fleeting smile that passes along her features. It doesn't last though. It seems near impossible to keep any sort of expression on her lips for long aside from a pensive frown. All the same she's slipping her hand into his and curling her fingers around it. "I understand. So long as yah got somewhere tah sleep I can't complain much. Y'gotta eat, too. Y'saw how many sandwiches I made. Or if y'got a request fer somethin' else I can make it and bring it." There was that frown not far behind. Jackie had perfected the art of making dinner for people since last night while Ben was in the midst of it all elbow deep in debris. She sends him a sidelong look. "'Bout three survivors so far. Resta them're bodies comin' out." The words were grim, lacking the usual faith that Jackie spoke so highly of. With that her gaze shifted ahead again. "You said you had some information though?"

"Yeah, three so far. All right at the beginning. At ten dead right now." He's pausing to chew on his lower lip for a couple of seconds. "So that's twenty-eight people left to find. Ah..." Another pause. "So, the three we've found alive, they were all above ground when the building went down. We, um, we haven't found anybody that's survived yet that's been underground." Why Jackie would care about this at all, he doesn't say immediately, but he realizes that he's going to have to eventually. May as well come out with it now. "Jackie, somebody told me they talked to your brother when everything started going to hell, told him to leave, but he said he wouldn't without Harper and went to go find her, seemed to know where to look. I was asking around, and somebody said they saw Harper headed downstairs not long before the building came down. Now--" And the grip on her hand is shifting to her wrist; he's stopping them in their tracks, turning to face her. The look on his face is intense -- she needs to listen to this -- and he's trying to hold her eye contact. "This doesn't mean that everybody down there didn't make it. It just means we haven't found anybody yet that has."

Her eyes are narrowing in concentration while she stares off ahead. She's attempting to do the math on her own, to figure out what sort of odds that gives Colt and Harper. What the chances of finding them are. In the end she doesn't much understand odds aside from betting on big games and races. But his statement about not finding survivors from underground is enough to tell her it's not good, not good at all. Her walk has taken on a zombie like stride, she's listening but it's as if the lights are on and nobodies home. It's only when he speaks of Colt directly that she's looking at Ben again. Someone who talked to Colt and he was looking for Harper. Of course he was. He wouldn't have saved his own skin while leaving Harper behind. It was the same with any of the Daniels and when it came down to it, Harper was becoming part of the family more and more with every passing day.

He predicted it. He already knew her so well. Her face contorted at the idea of Colt going downstairs looking for Harper. Both of them, deep in the belly of the building where no survivors had been found underground. She stopped and was looking up at him, but the back of her hand was lifted and pressed against her lips so they could tremble in peace. A deep breath down and her words came out in a quiet rush, she had to get them out fast because she didn't know how long she could keep it together. "Time is goin' by, Ben. I know everyone here is doin' what they can, but... they're in the middle of alla that. If they were hurt... can you imagine if they're hurt? What if they need somethin' and they can't get it? What if they can't breathe? Even if they're down there in the middle of it, who knows what it's like. But all I know is that people... bodies are bein' dragged outta that buildin'-" A finger jutted at the wreckage behind them. "-an' my brother an' Harper are somewhere under them." The hand was back over her mouth, disgusted at herself for letting the negative thoughts that had been looming in the back of her head free. Like there was some possibility just letting them out could make it that much more likely they're true.

"Jackie, I know. I know." Ben lets her get it out, though -- what would be the use in trying to stop her? He doesn't know that it helps, to voice that kind of bleakness, the blackness, he doesn't know that it brings any relief (it never had for him), but it's not right to stop her. She'll think it anyway. "I can imagine it, and I do, and that's why this is the first time I've been away from the site since I got back here last night. That's why I'm not coming home tonight, or tomorrow -- until this is finished." He's been strong so far, and he wasn't close to losing it, but there's obvious emotion in his voice that bleeds into his eyes now, the firm look he'd been trying to fix her with before, get her not to think this way. It was hard to convince her, maybe, as good of an actor as he could be, when he didn't believe it himself.

"It isn't over until it's over, Jackie." He's letting go of her wrist then, carefully taking her hand in his, and forcing his voice calmer, softer. "Maybe there was someplace safe they knew about down there. You don't know." He breaks eye contact with her for just a second, biting his lip; when he seeks out her eyes again, he looks sorry, though he tries not to let that overcome him too much, for her sake, so she's still got someone to draw strength from. "I'm sorry. I really am. But I thought you should know."

After getting all of that out she certainly didn't feel any better. Instead her expression had sank even further, the worry and wear taking its toll on her features. "I ain't tryin' tah knock what yer doin', Ben. I'm thankful fer you an' every other person who is here puttin' in time. I really am." Fingers closed around his hand, relieved to have the somewhat more familiar grasp rather than him holding her wrist. "When it comes tah Colt an' Harper, they're two of the most stubborn people I know. If there was a waya survivin' they woulda figured it out. I know they woulda." She takes a moment to linger in those warm thoughts and the faith that she keep wearing like some sort of protective shield. But when she begins speaking again, her voice is weathered. A chink in the armor. "But I keep wonderin' if it was possible tah survive this. Even fer them. I want so hard tah believe, Ben. I want it so bad. I want Harper tah be okay. I want mah brother back an' them words don't even begin tah cover it. But..." She's shaking her head. "I feel like the moment I grasp onto a lil' glimmer of hope it's gettin' snatched from me. I jus'..." She's staring at him, losing the ability to grasp at the words. And in Jackie fashion since this all began, she takes all of the pain she's feeling and tucks it away to focus on something easier to manage. "Yah didn't say nothin' tah Ten an' Dylan, didja? When y'all were standin' there? Considerin' how they looked I'm guessin' not, but..." She cast brown eyes in that direction. He was trying to be strong, that's all he's been doing and she appreciates it. But she can pick that edge of apology out from his expression. The words of condolences ever ready on his lips, just like friends and the girls at the bar. Some of them seemed so ready to throw in the towel. Was it easier that way? Would it hurt less?

"No, I didn't say anything to them. I've only told you." Ben is studying her, her expression, the way she swallows down her own hurt, focuses on someone else. It doesn't get by him. But what should he tell her -- not to do that? It's a way of coping he's used plenty of times himself. He can't tell her not to, especially when it wouldn't do any good. He lets out a deep sigh after a moment, giving her hand a squeeze. "Don't lose hope yet, Jackie. I told you -- it isn't over until it's over. Harper's one of the smartest people I know. She would've been down there for a reason. And if your brother was with her--" It's edging dangerously close into false-hope, promises-you-can't-keep territory, and Ben knows it. "Just ... don't give up yet. Try not to."

Unless she's resistant to it, he's turning to head back in the direction of the little camp of Daniels girls, the site beyond it, for him, though his pace heading back is still slow. "When Adam was missing, it was ... I had good days and bad days. But the bad days were usually when I let myself think like that too much. Even if I had to lie to myself, it was easier if I told myself I knew he'd be fine. I don't know why I'm telling you this," and he's laughing a little, even though it's lacking any humor, "but it's true. Eventually, I'd forget it was a lie, sometimes. Those kinds of days were the least bad."

"I been holdin' onta hope. We all have. An' what good has it gotten us?" It's all slipping out before his words of not giving up can really sink in. Right now there was no fight in her. Sure, it would come back shortly, as bright and shiny as ever. That had been the process since yesterday afternoon. But for now she was tugged along after him without a word otherwise.

When he began speaking, talking of Adam, her ears prickled and her gaze turned his way. Guilt overtook her. Here she was going on and on after less than two days and in that time she had let it escape her that he had gone through a similar ordeal with his son missing for two years. Disgust at herself was piled on top of the other negative emotions that were swirling around inside of her. "I'm sorry, Ben." She had sense enough to apologize. "Yer speakin' from experience an' I'm treadin' all over it like it's nothin', but..." There were no excuses. No matter how hard she reached for them, not matter how hard she tried. "I'm sorry." In so many ways, for so many reasons, to so many people. She was sorry, but Ben would have to settle for being the only one who heard it.

Ben's shaking his head from the first time Jackie says she's sorry, but he waits until she gets it all out before speaking up. "Don't apologize; I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted you to know..." What did he want her to know, exactly? Why was all of this reminding him of his son's absence, anyway -- his dissolving marriage during those two horrible years? He doesn't think about that now (and if he's successfully avoidant, he won't think about it at all, even later), just reaches over, touches the backs of his fingers lightly to Jackie's cheek. It leaves a smudge of dust behind, a streak of ash grey against the golden tan of her skin, but he doesn't move to wipe it away afterward. "I just wanted you to know that you can get through this. Even if everything seems hopeless ... If I can get through it, you'll get through it." No it'll be okay or we'll find him, I know we will -- he won't make promises he can't keep, right? "Promise you that. I'll get you through this." A dangerous one to make, but one that he couldn't stop from being voiced, and if Jackie happens to look aside to him, there's a hint of smile at his mouth, unwisely reassuring.

He'd failed once, letting Ella descend into utter hopelessness when the chips were down. It had absolutely destroyed her, the person he was supposed to love and protect most. He can't waste this second chance, won't fail again -- can't fail again.

((Taken from live play with Jackie Daniels))

Wednesday, September 5, 2012 - Late Evening

At some point Jackie became aware that she was laying in her bed. Through a haze it took her much longer to remember how she had reached this point than it ever should have. There were snippets here and there. Walking part of the way home, losing it at some points and practically having to be dragged, and then towards the end she gave up entirely leaving Ben no choice but to carry her cradled in his arms. Once inside he had taken her directly to her bedroom. She was still wearing her clothes from the day, coated in a thick layer of dirt. It didn't matter. The only thing he had done was remove her boots.

Ben laid with her for a short while, pleading for her to talk to him. To say anything. To understand that nothing was set in stone. But the words fell on deaf ears. She stared at him in an unfocused haze, practically looking right through him. It was too difficult to watch Jackie getting lost in her own mind and despair. He slipped off the bed in silence and made his way out of the bedroom. Jackie constantly slept with her door closed, but he left it hanging wide open. Needing to be able to hear her when she called, if she called.

I don't much remember the story personally, but I've been told it plentya times in many different ways by every single member of my family. Each one would change it a lil' here an' there like a man might do with a fishin' story, tryin' to cast themselves in a better light. Rhett and Ford would always make it out as if they were much more excited about the day Mama brought me home, but it was only Mama who would quietly tell me the truth when I got older. It wasn't that they didn't like me, far from it, but they were both a lil' skeptical. They didn't understand why the newest lil' Daniels was wrapped in a pink blanket insteada blue. That was silly. An' they didn't much understand why they were bein' told they have to be careful with the new baby an' watch over her, their new lil' sister. It wasn't interestin' to 'em at all. But she would always tell me with a wide smile that for Colton it was love at first sight, fer botha us the way I wrapped my hand 'round his finger when he extended it towards me an' I was hangin' on like it was the only thing I knew in the world. It was from that moment Colton rarely left my side, even goin' so far as to sleep under my crib to make sure I was safe at night. Colton Daniels has been lookin' over me since the very beginnin'.

Jackie was pulled from her drawn out daze at the sound of a cabinet in the kitchen shutting with a sharp snap. It was clear the sound was unintentional when a hushed curse was dropped to hang in the dead air right afterward. Her assumption was that Ben was getting into one of her many liquor cabinets in the kitchen. Ever the bartender Jackie liked keeping her personal bar stocked and ready so that at the drop of a dime she could make someone any sort of drink they desired. It was also helpful so she could practice making new drinks and pawning them off on her family members as experiments.

It took her a short while longer to remember the text message that Ben had sent her... was it yesterday? The day before? The days had all ran together, but it spoke of his desire to get back on the wagon. Had he fallen off that hard? Was he on it to begin with? She didn't have enough guilt left in her to pass any in his direction, but she already knew he was doomed for the evening out there on his own. Not that she could do anything about it. Her limbs were heavy, weighed with emotion. But she was aware her kitchen wasn't the place to find sobriety. Not tonight. Not alone.

"Coltoooon!" My voice came out in a high pitched squeal of worry an' doubt. I can't remember how old I was then exactly. Old enough to be able to make it to the highest branch of the willow tree that hung across the swimmin' hole below an' young enough that, once there, I couldn't find the strength to actually jump. Colton was in the water below with his friends an' our brothers, all a lil' too wrapped in their games to pay attention to the flailin' blonde baby sister in the tree who had followed them to their dismay. "Colton, it's too high! I can't make it! I'm gonna break everythin'!" I was good at dramatics, even so young. Colton didn't miss a beat and he didn't panic on my behalf. He gave a lazy smile and called back. "You know that's not right. You can make that jump easy. Y'want to know why?" I was still clutching to the branch, staring at the water below in dread while I listened. I nodded though, I needed to know why I could make that jump. What did Colton know that I didn't? "You can make that jump because you're Jackie frickin' Daniels!" He gave a peal of laughter and with such a simple, silly answer I could do nothin' but the same. He gave another call, more words of encouragement, and not long after I was launching myself off the branch into the water below. I'll never forget the look of pride on Colton's face when I surfaced through the water.

How long had Jackie been laying in bed? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of a lot of things. Now and then she would hear a foreign sound in the middle of her bedroom. Something quiet and lamenting, but it took her a while longer to realize the sound was coming from her. Tears were mixing with the dirt on her pillow to create a small amount of filthy mud. She couldn't even bring herself to care about that. Skin could be cleaned, clothing could be washed, bedding could be laundered. Everything could be scrubbed and left looking new as if it was never struck with tragedy. The trick was to figure out how she could do that with her heart. How could she handle the gaping hole that was left inside her now? Could it be patched like a piece of shattered drywall? Or would she be destined to carrying this empty feeling forever? A constant reminder of what was and what would never be again.

"Let me see your face, Jackie Lee Daniels." Triple named, yep, Colt wasn't messin' around. I was sittin' at the base of a tree in our backyard, turned so that Mama couldn't see me from the kitchen window. I wasn't even sure if she was aware I had gotten home from school considerin' I had been quick to run back here an' hide with my tail between my legs. My legs were pulled to my chest, arms folded over my knees, and my head cradled against them. At Colton's demand I had no choice but to lift my head and look at him. I wasn't quite sure how my eye was doin' since I didn't have a mirror, but it hurt like the dickens and the way Colton first grimaced then looked like he wanted to strangle someone I knew it couldn't be good. "Who did it, Jackie?" There was no messing around in his tone. Colton wanted answers. I quietly replied that it was Becky Anne Marshall. Her an' I had been fightin' like cats fer a while now, somethin' 'bout conflictin' personalities. When it came to blows today she had given me a run for my money. Colton looked even more upset. "I can't hit a girl." His outrage over this was clear. It seemed like he wanted nothin' more than the culprit to be a guy. Not because it would have hurt more when I got hit, but because then he could unleash unholy hell all over the guy's face. "I can't hit a girl," He repeated with a thoughtful nod. "But you can. I'm goin' to teach you how to throw a punch. A good one. An' after I do? You don't let no one hurt you, Jackie. Do you understand me? If anyone hurts you, you're goin' to hit them just like I show you." I gave a slow nod, not quite understanding at the time. But it didn't take long for those words to become a motto I still live my life by to this day.

There was a form standing in the doorway now. Jackie didn't move, but she could make out the outline of a shadow being cast on the comforter beside her. Distantly in the back of her head she realized it looked like a ghost was laying beside her, trying to bring her comfort with its presence. In actuality she knew it was Ben standing in the doorway. She could hear the quiet rasp of his breathing, his lungs and throat most likely worn from the dust of the rescue site along with the endless pleading for her to please calm down. She wasn't calm now, even in this round of silence. She was far from calm. But she was too destroyed at the moment to think, speak, or be amongst the living. A hand slid out, a slow lazy gesture that took the last bit of effort she had in her. Fingertips extended to stroke at the shoulder of the shadow, the ghost stretched out beside her.

I remember the unholy fit I had tossed before stompin' off into my room an' shuttin' the door behind me with a solid crack that seemed to shake the whole house. April Rollins was havin' her birthday party tonight, somethin' I had been set on attendin' for weeks now. She was an only child, a rarity in this town, and because of that her parents always went all out for her and her guests. It was only that afternoon in the lunchroom when my invitation had been revoked in front of a gaggle of girls an' anyone else lucky enough to watch on. Come to find out that Colton had made out with April underneath the bleachers at a football game. That was a promise of forever to a girl like April. Unfortunately, it was a couple of days ago that she spied Colton making out with Jamie Raye when he was walkin' her home from the bus stop. This was enough to earn not only Jamie Raye, but me a big public scene of embarrassment that ended with me spendin' my night sittin' on my bed in a huff. There was a knock at my door but I gave no reply. A couple seconds later an' Colton was sliding into my room holding a plate with a piece of chocolate cake on it. I knew what kind it was from the looks of it. It was the sort from the market down the street I was always droolin' over when Mama took me grocery shoppin'. Colton walked towards my bed and sat heavily beside me. I could see the apology all over his face, but we weren't the sorts to say them words out loud to each other. Instead he offered me one of the two forks he was holdin' in his hand. "I'm dumb, Jackie." I sent a look his way, trying to act like I was going to make him wait out a storm of hurt over this. But I didn't have it in me. Who needed April Rollins stupid party anyway? I took the fork and dug in for a bite while Colton sank his back against the headboard beside me. "I know, Colton. I know."

The shadow had left Jackie at some point. There wasn't a sound throughout the entire house, no sign of Ben even if he was lurking somewhere or another within the walls. There was absolute silence. It even sounded like the crickets and owls had taken the evening off to leave the city in peace. Were they mourning along with Jackie? Were they aware of what the world had lost today? Were they aware of what she lost? She wasn't sure. But it was the first time since the day that Jackie Lee Daniels had been born, since that first time she held onto Colton's finger, that she felt so utterly alone.

Thursday, September 6, 2012 -- Early Morning

The hours slipped away easily with Jackie continuously toeing the line between being asleep and awake. It was so hard to tell the difference between the two, because both were filled with nothing but nightmares. Those birds that had abandoned her throughout the night were giving their soft call to accompany the foggy light of dawn that was ebbing its way through the window in front of her. It was another day and it meant absolutely nothing to her.

Footfalls could be heard making their way down the hallway, into her bedroom, and were standing right behind her with her back curled towards the edge of the bed. A hand was placed gently on her arm, surprisingly cold. Was this it? Was this her goodbye?

Her head rolled backwards, so she could look at the man standing at her bedside. All at once there was a rush of despair and relief. What was she expecting? It was something she would never voice. When he spoke she could make out the words, but just barely. They were muffled, clouded as though he were speaking to her through water.

Water. She could hear it running now in the distance, just outside her doorway. He was telling that she had to shower, that she had to get up, and take care of herself even if it were only for a little. Simple promises were made. That she could come back to bed after she showered and he had time to switch out the bedding. He was being so calm, so diligently patient, but it didn?t stop him from carefully rolling her towards him and hauling her to her feet.

The room spun, but she managed to stand on her own two feet. A few short moments later she was on a slow move out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom. Maybe she would feel better after getting the dirt off, a constant reminder of the wreck that once was SPI and currently was the scene of the demise of her big brother.

Once she was in the bathroom Ben was standing just outside the door behind her. If she needed anything she was to call. He wouldn?t be far at all, only in the bedroom. There was barely a nod of acknowledgement at the words. If she showered she could go back to bed. Maybe she wouldn?t feel so weighted when the mud was removed.

She started peeling off clothing even before he shut the door. They were deposited into a pile on the tile floor then she was stepping into the water. The echo against the tile and closed shower curtain made the water the loudest thing she had heard since leaving the SPI site. It took a short while to get accustomed to it, but once she did it was easy to tune out like everything else.

To begin with, the shower wasn?t productive at all. She stood with her back to the showerhead, leaning her side against the wall and turning to press her forehead against the cool tile. It was impossible to tell how long she had been standing like that but she knew it was reaching a point of overstaying her welcome once the warm water started to fade. Soon there would be nothing left and she would be soaking in freezing water.

With this in mind she began to simply go through the movements so that this was not a totally unproductive endeavor. Scrubbing away the dirt, washing her hair, rinsing off. Once the water is turned off and she?s stepping out onto the bath rug she could almost pass for human. If it wasn?t for the puffy nature of her bloodshot eyes and the pale shade that has overtaken her usually glowing skin.

The robe from the back of the bathroom door is slipped on instead of the clothing left out for her and without even taking the time to brush her soaked blonde locks she stepping out of the bathroom and into the hallway. There was a pause, a deep bracing breath, and then she was moving back into her bedroom to find Ben.

It was a difficult morning for Ben. This situation, the feeling of quiet despair that hung heavy in the house -- it was excruciating, but beyond that, it was familiar to him, and that familiarity might've been the worst part of it for Ben.

If there's any upside to it at all, it's that Ben knows what to do in moments of another's private devastation. He turns on the shower. He goes into Jackie's room, makes her little promises easily kept, sets goals easily achievable. Get up. Take a shower. And then you can come back to bed.

He takes her to the bathroom, tells her he won't be far. He grabs her clean clothes, and leaves them folded on the bathroom counter for her. Strips the bedsheets, brings them out into the hallway, puts new bedding on. And maybe he should go check on her at that point, because she's been in there for a while, but it's then that he hears the water stop.

So no, Jackie won't have to go far to find him, because he's in her bed -- dozing, really, on his side and loosely hugging one of her pillows, but even just her settling down on the bed would be enough to rouse him.

It's a fleeting thought when she realizes that Ben is laying in the same spot where the so-called ghost had been lingering earlier. She climbs into bed, but she doesn't lay down. Her legs are curled beneath her and she's gazing down at him. A hand is brought out to brush fingertips across his shoulder and down along his arm.

She has no words, still at a loss for what to say. No idea what to do. For now she's continuing her silent gesture of dragging fingertips up and down along his arm. It was difficult to tell if the comforting gesture was more for his benefit, to assure him she was there, or for her benefit, to assure her he was there.

Even though just the slight weight of her next to him is enough to wake him, he doesn't open his eyes right away -- not after her fingers light on his arm, either. He wants to be able to hold on to this, this little moment of quiet -- peaceful quiet, not the terrible silence of the night before -- when it becomes difficult to remember what it is that he's in this for.

But eventually, he takes in a deep breath, lets it out in a slow sigh, and reaches up to gently take Jackie's hand in his. Doesn't say anything for a couple of seconds, but then he opens his eyes, lets go of the pillow he'd been holding, rolls over onto his back. "Hey," and he's chancing a smile at her, even though it looks tired and he sounds awful, voice horribly off: raw from yelling direction for hours and hours, from lack of sleep, from drinking, from three days of dust. "Shower helped a little, didn't it?"

Her movements come to a stop when he reaches for her, making it that much easier for her to be captured within his grasp. "Hey." The greeting is returned but she's unable to manage a smile along with it. Her voice is just as worn as his is. Weak from hours upon hours of working amongst the dust and bouts of sobbing. His question got a small half shrug in return and caused her gaze to sink. She didn't want to answer. Even if it did help it seemed like it was wrong for her to be okay when Colton wasn't. Like a betrayal.

Now that her gaze was lowered it was wandering over his form and it was when attention landed on the torn stitches of his arm that brows knit tightly. "Ben, what did yah do?"

Ben figured that might be her answer -- or nonanswer -- but he's sure he knows why, so he doesn't press it. It's enough to put the idea in her head, that she can feel better, even if she's too guilty to admit it to even herself right now.

He's briefly confused when she asks what he did, but then there's a look of realization -- and then a little bit of a blank look, and he's shaking his head almost imperceptibly, and that's the only real answer she gets. "I think I'm gonna take the other ones out later today. They need to come out." All things considered, the gash on his arm is healing fine, other than a few new tears when the thread had been torn out -- it's the one in the middle of the five that he's torn the stitches out of -- and he's right, they do need to come out.

He thinks about telling her not to worry about it, drawing her attention somewhere else with the little bit news he has, but that can wait just another moment. Maybe she needs this, the distraction, feeling like she can fix something. A way to feel less helpless. "It doesn't really hurt," he's lying to her, but easily, practiced.

He didn't have to go into more details than that. As of right now, she honestly didn't want him to. His instances of checking out had thankfully been minimal not only in the last week and a half but especially in the last few days. She knew it was more than likely bound to happen at some point, but she couldn't stomach the details right now.

He's giving her something else to hold onto and without much thought she's taking hold of it. Sure, she's still worrying, but this was the lesser of two evils. "I can do it in a lil' bit. It'll be a lot quicker if I'm doin' it instead of yah handlin' it yerself. I'm sorry I didn't get 'em out sooner." He would tell her it wasn't her fault. They've both been busy. Everything was exploding around them. It didn't stop her from apologizing though. That she lost sight of him while he's kept her firmly in his eyeline since this all began.

Absolutely, he's going to tell her it isn't her fault. Shaking his head, and absently lacing his fingers with hers, "It's hard for you to get to them when I'm not home. Don't worry about it; I'm sure they'll be fine." If he feels that way, neglected or forgotten, or resentful, even, it doesn't show. "Maybe after a nap? We could probably both use one." That's as close as he gets to mentioning his own exhaustion after last night -- after the last few days.

"I have a little news for you," while he's pulling lightly on her hand, a subtle encouragement to lay down with him. Even if she's not looking directly at him, he's watching her face -- she's far too worn to hide emotion right now, he figures, and he wants to tread carefully here.

"That's fine." She isn't going to bicker with him about worrying or not. She's too tired to be anything other than agreeable. A Jackie Daniels rarity. She says nothing of needing or wanting a nap either. After laying in bed for hours on end it feels odd to say she wants a nap, but she knows she's more broken and beaten down than ever. The idea of sleep is welcoming, she's simply unsure if it would actually come. It doesn't stop her from following his guidance to lay down beside him, curled in the fetal position and facing towards him so she can see his face.

The word 'news' makes her grimace instantly because it reminds her of the last time he had news. The thought alone breaks her heart. He's been so good to her, helping her through this, so she knows she can ask him honestly and he'll reply in the same. "Do I wanna hear it?"

Ben hasn't known Jackie all that long, really, but he knows her well enough to recognize the rarity of this. It strikes home the deep way all of this is affecting her. Once she lays down too, he lets go of her hand, reaches over to cup her cheek in his hand, just for a few seconds. "Yeah, I think you do."

With his affirmation she's closing her eyes, bracing herself. It's not so much that she's doubting him, but she has come to learn over the last few days that the news is rarely good unless it's going to be followed with 'found alive and well'. Maybe on the first day she had let herself grip onto all sorts of faith and the belief that everything would be okay, but the more time that passed by the harder it became for her to keep her grip curled around it.

Ben pulls his hand away from her face and wraps his fingers around hers again. He takes a breath, pauses, looking like he's about to tell her -- but then he drops his gaze, and there's a strange little smile at his mouth. "A few weeks before we found Adam, I was talking to my shrink -- cop shrink, you know, we all had to go --" Even though that was only partly true, and he'd been going much more often, voluntarily, and off the record from work. "-- and he wanted me to talk about Adam. Mourn him, really. He'd been gone for two years already, and my shrink was telling me that if I don't accept that he might never come home, that he might be dead, probably was dead--" It's still hard to say that, even though he knows the story ends well; the word sounds harsh to him, as much now as it did that day. "--you know, if I don't mourn him, go through those feelings, then I'm stuck. Can't move on. But," and there's the odd little smile again, "I told him I wasn't going to grieve a possibility. Even if he was probably right, even if it probably would have been healthier." He's not sure why he's telling her all of this -- maybe to make himself feel better about putting her through so much grief when it may be for nothing.

She's waiting for news and when he's instead telling her about Adam her eyes open, a look of confusion lacing her features. Even in her wonder over the story she's listening patiently, working extra hard to take it all in and process it. Jackie was trying so hard to understand but the cotton surrounding her mind was making it so much more difficult.

Ben seeks out eye contact again, "Jackie, the body we found by your brother's ID wasn't him. He's still missing." It was only at this final statement that all the pieces clicked into place for Jackie. The body wasn't Colton's. They were all back to being unsure. Missing. Was it supposed to be good news? How was she supposed to react to this? Even if that body wasn't his, what were the odds that the next one wouldn't be him? Or the one after that? The debate was obvious on her features. She was sinking back into silence. The small amount of progress made following her shower was already slipping away between them.

Ben can see her start to slip, the fade in her eyes, and he let's go of her hand, frames her face with his palms on her cheeks. "Jackie..." Pausing, searching her face, her eyes, but he knows that look, so he just sighs, moving to pull her into his arms. He knows she understands the gravity of that, that it puts her right back in purgatory. That she's been grieving a possibility -- something he's never had the strength to do. He doesn't have any answers for her, though. "Just get a little rest, sweetheart. I'll stay right here this time." Partly for her, and partly because he still doesn't trust himself alone in her otherwise empty house. Not after last night, not with so much heaviness still in the air.

She's moved into the grasp of his arms without a fight and she back to being weighed down with grief with the addition of the unknown draped on top. Maybe most people would have taken it as fantastic news. Maybe they would have been given renewed hope and a kick of faith. Jackie didn't have it in her. There was no hope to renew. Why get yourself looking on the bright side when it could so easily be snatched away with just another phone call or text message? Her head was tucked against him. A deep inhale and a slow exhale. It was the last sound heard from her before she continued her balancing act between being asleep and awake. Swaying between nightmares.

((Taken from live play with Jackie Daniels))