mindsplinters | More Nano

Well, he was really gone this time. No eleventh hour returns, no dramatic entrances... More importantly, though, there would be no more fucking with her head. Jackie wrapped her arms more tightly around her torso to keep off the shivers that threatened. The weather hung grey and wet and cold in the dead November sky; it made for as good an excuse as any when Lex looked at her with concern clear in his too-blue eyes.

Finally, the minister said the final words and she found herself smiling thinly and without any humor as the first shovel loaded with dirt deposited its contents on the simple coffin. She really had no idea what her mother was thinking by having any kind of religious trappings to the event. Maybe she thought playing on her deceased husband's long-standing feud with any kind of organized religion would push things back into perspective.

Or, at least, piss Quentin Ellis off enough that he would rise from the grave and they could pretend it was all a bad dream.

Except, as far as Jackie was concerned, the bad dream was finally ended and she could now have her glass of water, comforting hug, and get tucked back into bed. What started when she was fifteen was finally over. Her father was really and truly dead and, this time, there was no coming back from it. Another shudder hit her and she gritted her teeth against any noise or expression. She had not cried and she would not cry. Her mother was doing enough of that for her and both her sisters, to be honest. She could not even crack the stone-faced resignation with which she had faced the entire situation. The single rose she laid on the casket had pricked her and it took all of her will power not to laugh at the irony of it.

Her body, though, felt so tired and heavy as if her knees would buckle at the slightest additional weight. She closed her eyes and focused on the energy surrounding the hallowed spot. Tenuous and hesitant but spider-web strong to the ground itself, Jackie felt the magic flicker and fade but it was enough to reassure her. The exhaustion was only natural, she told herself. Since the body had been found, she could count the total hours of sleep on one hand. Combined with a red-eye flight and the nonsense necessary to lay all traces of bad mojo to rest...

A strong arm slid around her shoulders and she leaned into Lex's lean frame without a word. She knew better than to fight. It would just set him to worrying more as if she was the type to fly apart at the seams and crumble in the face of her loss. Though she knew that was being less than fair, really. The two of them had seen each other in worst positions and tighter spots and, more importantly, he had born witness to the first revival... And then promptly punched the dead man in the face.

Reopening her eyes, Jackie cast one final look at the fast-disappearing coffin and gave the barest of smiles. Even to her, the expression felt more like a threat than a show of bravery. Abruptly, she turned to bury her face in Lex's chest. He immediately wrapped both arms around her, squeezing her into him protectively. The wool of his coat itched but ultimately relaxed her as she inhaled the familiar scent of her lover. His hand moved over her back briefly before it settled at the nape of her neck, her golden hair hanging heavy and warm over it. Then he bent and she felt a kiss delivered to the crown of her head. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

"I'm okay." Her words were muffled by the front of his coat but he knew her so well, better than anyone, better than herself, that she had no fear of being misunderstood.

Silence settled between them for long moments and then, with a sigh and a squeeze, Lex continued, "Do you want to head out? Everyone's left already. They're going back to your mom's." His hand gave the back of her neck a little rub, reassuring and possessive. "Are you up for heading over?"

"Do we have to?" Before he could answer, Jackie laughed darkly. "I know the answer to that. Don't worry. I just..." Her shoulders heaved in a sigh that spoke of the exhaustion and tension flowing through her body. "It's going to be hard, you know?" She brought a hand up to pluck at his lapel and the movement was strangely fretful. "There's going to be two viewpoints at this... party."

He made a faint noise in response to her word choice, somewhere between a laugh and a snort. Then he loosened his hold on her and took a small step back. His arms stayed looped around her shoulders, though, keeping her within the protective circle. Lex studied her face thoughtfully and she looked up to meet his gaze unflinchingly. "Both sides of the family are going to be there?" Although, technically, there was a question mark at the end, Jackie knew that it was a statement.

She nodded. "Such as it is. There aren't actually that many Ellises around but," she paused and gave him a thin smile, "they make up for it with opinions and noise. Mom's side will be like locusts. All over the place. Some of them liked Dad so that will help. Probably. The rest..." She shrugged and turned to look again at the open grave.

Lex adjusted his hold and stepped around until he was behind her. Without thinking, Jackie shifted to face the ruffled earth and leaned back into his hold once more when he wrapped his arms around her waist. He bent just enough to press his cheek against her hair. "Fist fights?" he offered.

"No but maybe a good Jerry Springer-style hollering match." Jackie settled her hands atop his, focusing on the warm skin to warm skin. It was something real and natural and reminded her of what she had and would still have when they left Ohio again. Not all men were like her father. Not all situations left a hole in your gut and your heart in sad tatters. She sighed. "Kat and Amanda will be there to help referee," she continued. Then she thought more realistically about her sisters and another dry laugh escaped. "Kat will, anyway. Amanda will be too busy swanning about and overseeing the casseroles. It's what she does."

Silence fell between them and Lex just held her while she stared ahead blindly. The weather had turned and now cold mist covered them but he made no indication that he wanted to leave. For that, she was grateful. Closing her eyes and better wrapping her hands around the calloused, masculine ones clasped over her stomach, she focused on him. Lex radiated warmth and a sort of controlled mania; the magic drawn to him felt clean and tense, controlled but only barely sometimes, held in place by his force of will and talent. Even her best memories of her father and the flavor of his magic did not make her feel as safe as Lex did. Even on a bad day after too much blackness filtered through and he was left sullen and snapping.

Her father... She shivered and clutched harder at Lex's hands. He really was dead this time. It wasn't going to be like fourteen years ago when they only thought he was dead and her young heart burned with the sad but consoling conviction that he had to be dead or else he would be there with them. Nearly fourteen years of nursing the bittersweet belief in him and caring for the memory of him. He had taught her the first rules of control, the first threads to pull to get the magic to unravel in her hands. Her father had made her feel normal.

"How could he be such a jerk?" The words burst from her unbidden and she froze in his arms.

Lex said nothing but shifted to better hold her. His lanky frame curled and bent as if sheilding her from both the elements and her thoughts. He pressed a kiss to her temple and waited.

She loved him even more for that and her heart moved up into her throat, nearly choking her as she continued, "He left us. He picked up and left us and we thought he was dead. He made damn sure we thought he was dead. He didn't want us anymore but he couldn't just say it." Tears threatened suddenly and she squeezed her eyes shut more tightly. Something was boiling in her and she felt the threat building. She clung to Lex for a moment before suddenly tugging his hands apart and pulling away. With a subvocal growl, she stomped across the dampening grass to stand at the edge of the grave.

She missed the warning look Lex gave the workers who had been about to fill the hole, oblivious to how they startled in reaction and backed away to leave her staring into the depths of it.

"Why did you come back?" she hissed, comments laced with anger that she had thought left behind and paved over. "Why didn't you stay dead? Who wanted you? Who needed you?" Her hands balled into fists at her sides and Jackie felt crackles of energy crawling over her skin. She had to pull it together. If she didn't, she would hurt something. I'm in a cemetery, she told herself. Be respectful.

"You..." She choked, swallowed, and felt the tears edging into her voice. "What good was your goddamn waste of life if you never were there?" she finally shouted and the dull purple light flared at her hands, slicing through the grayness surrounding until it grounded in the wet earth.

Arms were suddenly around her, keeping her upright as her knees buckled from the release, and Lex turned her forcefully. One arm braced at the small of her back and he brought the other up to cup a hand against her tear-stained cheek. "His life," he whispered and his pale eyes searched her face until she returned focus, gray to blue. His thumb stroked her cheek tenderly. "His life gave me you. His life kept you sane enough to come out of it all in one piece. Jackie..." He dropped his head to press his forehead against hers and took a slow breath. "Jackie, that bastard was worth the oxygen if only for that one thing, for you."

And, just like that, she was weeping fully and clung to him. Lex pulled Jackie closer and let her mourn. He was safety and harbor, she thought, and nothing like her father. Gentle and smart and hesitant and fierce in anger and love. Lexington McCourt was the life that Quentin Ellis had denied her and drove her towards. If one thing could change a life, then, she thought, abandonment and betrayal opened her to the possibility of Lex.

Maybe it wasn't a waste of life, after all.