Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jamie wasn't a victim. In fact, anyone who attended middle or high school with her would probably describe her as the bully. Yet, somehow, she'd been the one to end up here. Sunk into an uncomfortable beige armchair in a musty therapist's office, all because she tried to not be alive anymore once, about two years ago.

Her therapist- Dr. Theo- said she fit the criteria for BPD. Borderline personality disorder. The first time he brought it up, Jamie accused him of just slapping that label on anyone who'd made a suicide attempt.

"Nice therapizing, Doc. Does skipping lunch make me anorexic? Will chewing my nails be a sign of self-harm?"

Now, after two years, the only time she thinks about the diagnosis is during her re-evaluations. It's just another dumb thing about her, hardly the most interesting one.

In Jamie's defense, when she'd made her suicide attempt there was nobody around at that point who'd even wanted her to be alive. Things had changed since then. Unfortunately, she had a difficult time convincing her aunt Tia of that. Or more accurately, she had a difficult time convincing Dr. Theo to convince Tia of it.

So, Jamie was stuck protesting Dr. Theo's idiotic reaches on a weekly basis for the foreseeable future. The soft-spoken, balding, absurdly easily hate-able Dr. Theo. Especially so when he tried talking about shit he had no idea about.

"Oh my God," Jamie groaned in exasperation, tugging her frizzy brown hair at the roots. It was a struggle to stay seated most days as Dr. Theo spoke. "It's not like that, it's- Jack never touched me, okay? He was a drunk, not a..."

Dr. Theo let her trail off, his sharp blue eyes boring into her. Jamie squeezed her own eyes closed, avoiding his gaze, and for a moment, she thought that he might make them both sit in silence. She was immediately proven wrong.

"I presume by 'touched' you mean sexually abused? He never sexually abused you?" Dr. Theo prodded and Jamie felt her heart spasm and her guts clench. Everything in her body seemed to tighten, like a knotted string pulled taut. She tried to mask her flinch with a cough but she could tell Dr. Theo noticed.

Well, fuck you and fuck you.

She yanked her own hair again, if only to make Dr. Theo react. Dr. Theo stared pointedly at her face, as if he couldn't see anything beyond her bewildered expression.

"What, you're a therapist and you don't know what touching people means?" Jamie sputtered, acidic annoyance lacing her voice. "Yeah Doc, that's what I was saying. If you need me to spell it out for you, let me know."

Dr. Theo tilted his head slightly, like a change in angle might help him solve the puzzle of her. He was probably just deciding which thing to call her out on- her tone, her posture or her vicious words.

Surprisingly, he let all three go.

"Was his treatment of you in general, more acceptable because he didn't molest you?" The tone Dr. Theo used was gentler this time but far from soothing. Sometimes his bluntness knocked the wind from Jamie. Before she could form a coherent retort, he was speaking again.

"Do you believe the prolonged neglect, physical abuse and verbal abuse were all inconsequential because he could have been doing more? Was he capable of sexually abusing you, but chose not to?"

A blur of static like an old TV screen filtered over everything at once. Jamie wanted to ball her hands into fists and pummel Dr. Theo's stupid wrinkled face but they only dropped to her sides, suddenly disconnected. Numb. Numbess was creeping up her limbs, into her core. She stood hastily, afraid that her stupid bladder would betray her.

Pelvic floor dysfunction. Another diagnosis on her chart.

Standing helped.

"I can see that I've upset you with this line of questioning. That was more intense than I intended it to be, I'm sorry Jamie. I know this subject matter isn't easy to discuss."

"Can you shut the fuck up actually?" The words flew from Jamie's mouth with little effort. Her voice had risen in pitch to an unsustainable level, strained and weak. "Actually, shut the fuck up. Actually."

Dr. Theo pressed his thin lips together, as if he had more to say and needed to physically hold it back. Jamie turned away from the man, crossed her arms over her chest and squeezed herself as tightly as possible. She couldn't look at Dr. Theo right now. He was such a mindfucker. Jamie knew she wasn't a good person, but Dr. Theo was so dead set on blaming Jack for it all and it drove her nuts.

"Was Jack unsafe?" He'd asked her earlier, in response to a stupid comment she'd made about Tia being a safe lady. Jamie hated when he pulled shit like that, asking questions like Chinese finger-traps: easy to get into, but impossible to get out of.

"Jack didn't do anything wrong, okay? He never did anything bad to me. I was a little shit and he had to discipline me sometimes, sure. And just cuz you're a- a pussy like the rest... Yeah, maybe you couldn't handle it, okay? But I could. And Jack taught me everything I need."

Jamie's voice shook with anger she could barely suppress. Her entire body was shaking and she couldn't stop. Dr. Theo didn't understand, he'd never understand. Tia didn't get it either but at least she respected Jack enough not to speak badly about him to her.

The room seemed to pulse with each of her ragged breaths. When Jamie whirled back around to face him, she hoped to find an apologetic look on Dr. Theo's old face, but no. The bastard looked almost content, as if satisfied by her breakdown.

Jamie's hands twitched into fists now. If she were Jack, she'd have hit the man for sure. He was so lucky she wasn't more like her dad.

So lucky.

Most days weren't like this. Jamie spent most of her time in her bedroom at Tia's, typing captions for obscure films that no one ever watched for a fraction of minimum wage. It was easy work that distracted her from all of her stupid emotional, mental, and bodily problems and gave her a way to pay Tia back for everything she does. All morning before her appointment, Jamie had been captioning an animated film.

Today had started as such an easy day.

Until Dr. Theo opened his mouth and shared his extra special, unique talent of pissing Jamie off more than the rest of the world combined. And now, it seemed like her day had taken a sharp turn into "unredeemable" territory. Some days, he made her so annoyed she wouldn't even speak. He was certainly on track for that today.

Dr. Theo sat patiently as Jamie continued to stand, fists and jaw clenched, locked in a silent stand-off with the man.

Jamie had promised to show up to her appointments, but actively participating in Dr. Theo's weekly humiliation ritual was another story. Still, each hour there earned Jamie the privilege of staying in a real home with her aunt, Tia, for one more week. It was Tia's only condition before Jamie was released to her care. Although therapy was excruciating, it was more than she could say she deserved.

She reminded herself that as her brain rattled off a million ways that she could tell Dr. Theo to fuck off from her life, permanently.

At Tia's, life was great. She had a bedroom with a bed of her own. Tia gave her a bunch of her old clothes, and despite Tia's body-confident sense of style, there were a few normal pieces that Jamie managed to find comfort in. Jamie pitched in with chores when she could, poorly mostly because no one ever taught her how to sweep. It took a while for Jamie to fully appreciate Tia, but now she owes her her entire life.

It was great and it sucked.

At first Jamie had thought her aunt would be like every other woman; pretty to look at but boring and useless for anything else. Turned out that Tia is a rare breed. Driven and witty and kind. Jamie hoped one day enough of Tia might rub off on her and make her a decent person to be around.

Right, Jamie wanted to get better. Needed to, for her.

Jamie took a slow, shaky breath, then returned begrudgingly to her seat.

Behind Dr Theo's head, a standard-looking, white clock on the wall ticked, informing Jamie that she'd survived 45 minutes and 3 seconds of this free session so far. 4 seconds. 5 seconds. 6 seconds. 7-

"You seem to be very thoughtful this morning." Dr. Theo finally murmured, trying a different tactic to break through her stubborn silence. It wasn't the first mute session she'd endured and it wouldn't be the last. When Jamie first met him, she had decided she hated Dr. Theo, and everyday since she'd only felt more justified in her stance.

"Very thoughtful", wow, Doc. Is that a professional diagnosis?

"Why do you make statements that sound like questions? Are you asking or what?" Jamie snapped in return. As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them- not because they were harsh but because she knew that by breaking her sullen silence, he'd won. Dr. Theo's eyes flashed with amusement, making her clench her jaw again. Sometimes she couldn't help herself- Dr. Theo just had this way of getting under her skin.

Slowly, as if they had all the time in the world and not 14 minutes left, Dr. Theo shrugged and asked "why do you think that bothers you so much?"

Jamie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, staring through him as she gritted her teeth. She imagined placing her hands on either side of his head and clapping over his ears as hard as she possibly could.

"It doesn't."

After two years of weekly sessions, Jamie knew Dr. Theo's methods well. She'd grown familiar with him, that annoying clock on the wall, and his stupid desk calendars that celebrated some made-up holiday on each day. Jamie hated it but she couldn't stop herself from checking it each time.

Today's holiday was apparently "Scottish Argyle Day", whatever the fuck that signified. At Tia's, they'd scoff about it later and try to think of an even more ridiculous holiday to top it. Jamie and her aunt had very few things to bond over, but making fun of Dr. Theo was one of them. It was as hard to respect her therapist as it was to dislike her aunt Tia.

Jamie liked Tia's sense of humor and thought it was something they had in common. Not that Jamie deserved a connection with her. Who uses a desk calendar anyway? If Dr. Theo really cared about that stuff, couldn't he just check his computer like everyone else?

It was January 8th. Hardly a special day at all. Jamie didn't care about fake holidays and she certainly didn't need a paper calendar to remember the date. She couldn't forget if she tried. The date marked exactly two and three months since Jamie's pathetic excuse of a suicide attempt, and three years and three months since Weston up and left her. Almost four years since the last time she saw Jack. At least 20 years since she'd seen her mother or sister or brother.

Jamie forced herself to look away from Dr. Theo's stupid calendar. Thinking about this stuff made bile rise up in her throat so she tried not to as best she could.

But I don't deserve to ever forget, no matter what Dr. Theo says.

Dr. Theo's bushy gray eyebrows pinched together, lips pursed like he needed to concentrate very carefully on the words he wanted to say. Which was a bullshit fake expression because Dr. Theo always knew exactly what he wanted to say. "Is it difficult to admit when something bothers you?"

"No."

"Try it."

Jamie's eyes narrowed at his taunting. She knew what he was doing and it was stupid.

"You bother me. Happy?"

Dr. Theo considered her words for a moment. "No, that wouldn't make me happy."

Jamie knew he wanted her to fill the silence. Running a thumb over her jagged, chewed nails, she refused.

"If you share what it is that's bothering you, maybe I could work on it." Dr. Theo offered gently.

Jamie raised a hand to gnaw at her index finger, ripping more of the already stubby nail until it stung and bled before moving onto the next. "It doesn't matter." She mumbled around her hand.

Most people hated the way she chewed her nails, and she could see it in their faces but she didn't care. Fuck them. It was an admittedly disgusting habit she'd picked up as a kid. Ever the professional though, Dr. Theo never cringed. Neither did Weston- he'd done it too.

"You don't think your comfort matters?" Dr. Theo prompted. This kind of questioning drove Jamie nuts because no shit. Bad people don't deserve comfort and she was a disgusting, bad person. And he knew it.

12 minutes. All Jamis had to do was sit there, but a feeling of discomfort clawed in her chest. "I hate you." She spat instead.

Dr. Theo maintained his blank expression, but something like levity twinged his eyes. Still, he kept his tone neutral. "Are there any other thoughts you'd like to share?"

He won and he knew it and he just had to rub it in. The tips of Jamie's fingers stung, urging her to stop her self-assault. She could faintly taste her own blood. If she were Jack, she'd have assaulted Dr. Theo by now instead.

Her fingers clenched into a fist.

"You're a quack." She snapped. "Where'd you pull that degree from, a cereal box? You don't do shit. No wonder your sessions are free."

11 minutes, 34 seconds. 33. 32. 31. Jamie's pulse beat in time with each tick.

"My sessions aren't free, they're subsidized by the grant you received." Dr. Theo corrected firmly and unhelpfully. This wasn't news to Jamie. A nurse at the Eastern Shores inpatient facility had filled out an application on her behalf, despite her unkind protests.

"Yeah well maybe you should save it for someone who deserves it." Jamie breathed bitterly.

And bingo was his fucking name-o. He's absolutely jizzing his pants now.

The moment Jamie realized what she had admitted, it was already too late to take it back. Before he couldn't even speak she let out a groan at her own stupidity.

"Don't-" Jamie started.

"You don't think you deserve to be here?" Dr. Theo asked at the same time. The question was loaded in more ways than one.

Jamie glared at Dr. Theo's feet.

10 minutes.

"I hate you." She spat again, eyes locked on his stupid shiny shoes and-

Are those Argyle patterned socks?

—————

The rest of the session had been a battle of will. Jamie managed to keep her tongue in check, dodging Dr. Theo's verbal bullets until the clock ran down. When she finally trudged out to Tia's vehicle, Jamie plastered on a brave face. They spent the whole ride home talking about Dr. Theo's socks and nothing of substance, like usual.

At her aunt's house, Tia's boyfriend, the uninterested Alex, spared Jamie any acknowledgement. Alex had no love for Jamie, and in the beginning, he made it especially known.

"You can't afford to take in this... stray."

Alex's quiet, cutting words from the night Tia first brought her in had left their scars. Luckily for Jamie, she could take the damage. After a year, the best Jamie and Alex could manage was an awkward indifference toward one another and that suited them both just fine.

This evening, Tia and Alex ate dinner together at their little oak dining table, and like always, Jamie stole her plate away to her room. Guilt and something else twisted her stomach around Tia and Alex, making it impossible to eat. They took no offense though- it was just another weird thing about the stray Tia had taken in.

Jamie forced her dinner down alone and returned the plate to the kitchen to get her meds from Tia who kept them under lock and key. Tia took her role as Jamie's carer embarrassingly seriously- something Jamie hated and appreciated.

If it weren't for Tia, Jamie would have spent another year or longer in that hellhole inpatient program. Initially, her care team tried to contact Jack but he was busy making good on his promise that she'd never hear from him again. They tried Jamie's mother next, but that woman lived across the country with Jamie's brother and sister, and wanted nothing to do with Jamie either. Jamie didn't know anything about her mother besides what Jack told her and that was minimal at best. One night when she was a baby, her mother took her two oldest children and fled, leaving her alone to be raised by Jack, the end. Good riddance. With no other living relatives, aunt Tia was a last resort. Jamie had met her mom's younger sister maybe four times, and hadn't ever expected her to take her in.

Tia's home was only a short walk from Jack's but the distance wasn't why they'd hardly met- Tia loathed Jamie's father, but she begrudgingly respected him too. Jamie could vaguely remember the last time she'd seen Tia at Jack's but it was likely trying to recall an old dream.

It had been during a Christmas break, and Tia had arrived out of the blue with a neatly wrapped gift. Jack had been in one of his foul moods that day, and stopped Tia before she got to the front door. Jamie had heard the yelling through their poorly-insulated walls and peeked through the window to see her young aunt, present in hand, calling Jack a 'stupid drunken bastard' for whatever he'd said. She'd said something about talking to Jamie's mother and knowing there wouldn't be any other gifts for Jamie under the tree. Jamie remembered thinking Tia was only half-wrong... there was no tree. Jack knocked the box from her hands and Jamie watched as it burst open, scattering tubes of acrylic paint in the snow. Later, after Jack passed out, Jamie crept through Jack's window in her nightgown and gathered each tube with numb hands. She wasn't a good artist, but that year she smeared the paints on a wall in Jack's closet in a pretty swirling pattern with her fingers. She liked the texture of it, leaving colourful traces where her fingers had been. It was the best Christmas gift she'd ever had.

Absent-mindedly, Jamie fiddled with the tinsel still taped on the window frame in her room. It was past New Year's now but Tia still hadn't taken the Christmas decor down yet. After getting it all decorated, Tia had joked that it was staying up til next Christmas. Knowing her though, it might not be a joke. Tia was like that sometimes. Jamie thought Tia was probably the greatest person she'd ever met. For a woman at least.

It wasn't late, but it was winter in East Holloway so her window was dark and the sun had long set. Jamie stared into the starless, moonless night, unable to make out the snow drifts in their yard from Tia's closest neighbour's house down the street. It was all so familiar to her though that she could just close her eyes and picture it. Jamie had spent her entire life here, in a 100km radius, living in one of the furthest northern communities in Ontario. It was fine, she supposed. It was everything she'd ever known.

Jamie had captioning work she could be doing but as she drew her curtains closed, she decided she'd rather call it an early night instead.

Jamie's night-time routine was different from most other 20 year-olds. After taking a slew of pills, she had to slip into what was essentially a diaper and adjust the thick pee-pad under her bedsheet that kept her mattress clean. It wasn't every night that Jamie had an accident, but it was often enough to warrant prescribed muscle-relaxants and other measures to prevent it.

The entire ordeal was humiliating but urinary incontinence was something she'd dealt with as long as she could remember. During her hospital stay, her primary physician found out she'd been managing her symptoms by dehydrating herself during the days and sleeping in their bathtub at night and was appalled. Jamie still refused to wear a diaper during the day, but with a specialist's advice, she'd been able to cope with her condition somewhat better than before. Not that she deserved to.

Unlike others her age, Jamie also didn't have a phone, so each night after climbing into bed, she checked that her aunt's clunky old-school alarm clock was set to 6am. Jamie never had a cellphone growing up. She never had a reason to contact anyone and even though Tia had offered to get her one, she wouldn't accept. She'd already bought Jamie the laptop she did her work on, though Jamie had slowly paid her back. A cellphone would just be another debt on the insurmountable pile.

It hurt to owe her so much already.

As soon as Jamie settled into bed, she felt some of the ever-present tension in her shoulders slip away. Immediately, she reached into the crevice between her mattress and the wall for a familiar plush appendage. After a moment of blind groping, her searching fingertips finally brushed against soft faux-fur. She pinched the material between her fingers and dragged it up, freeing her small grey bear, J, from his daily confinement.

She swore there was a sadness in his dark eyes each time she crammed him away. It planted a little kernel of guilt in the pit of her stomach, the same feeling she got when she let Tia down. Though Jamie knew her door was closed, she looked up at it for confirmation before pulling the soft toy to her chest and pressing a kiss to its inanimate forehead.

No one else knew about this ritual, between Jamie and her bear. If anyone else found the stuffed animal, she'd say she'd forgotten the thing existed and throw him out, though it would shatter her soft dumb heart to do so. Part of her thought it would be better that way, but a bigger part of her couldn't bring herself to do it yet.

It was stupid and childish to have a teddy bear, Jamie knew, but it had been a gift from Tia on the first day she'd visited her in the hospital, and it had a cute-ish face, with a little bear snout and shiny plastic black eyes. Teddy bears were for crybaby kids and pussies, but Jamie already wore a diaper to bed, she had no dignity left to lose. So, at night time, she allowed herself to indulge in a little childish stupidity, tucking the plush thing in the crook of her arm- okay, hugging it.

The final step in Jamie's nightly routine before turning off her light was to open her journal and write down short answers to five prompts. It was easier to do this with J in her arms for a reason she wouldn't let herself think too hard about.

Dr. Theo had given Jamie her first journal during her long inpatient stay as a way for her to express herself. On the first page, he'd jotted down five prompts to get her started, probably with the idea that she'd elaborate and come to him with some huge breakthrough. The joke was on him though, because Jamie practically wrote down the same answers each day.

Chewing her thumb, she started as she always did by reading Dr. Theo's idiotic five-line alliteration.

1. Safe space?

2. Support?

3. Sensations?

4. Self-care?

5. Set goal?

Pen to paper, Jamie began with the same two answers as she did each day.

1. Tia's house

2. Tia

The next three questions were a bit harder. Jamie could just not fill them out, or lie. It wasn't like Dr. Theo would ever know, and some days she did skip. But today she had no valid reason to, so instead of tossing the book aside, she focused.

3. This itchy fucking diaper. Annoyed. Heavy. Sad.

Sometimes she didn't know what would come out until she started.

It felt silly to write her feelings but part of her knew that following her therapist's advice would make Tia happy. And even though she didn't deserve to get better, Tia deserved to be happy. Number four was easier again.

4. Took my meds on time. Made fun of Dr. Theo's stupid socks

Okay, maybe the journalling was a little for Jamie's pleasure too.

5.

Out of all of the prompts, this was the most difficult. It was the one she most often left blank.

5. Make Tia happy.

There, now she could sleep.

Chapter Text

Jamie's full name was Jameson Wilson. No middle name, no fluff. Two strong, respectable names that made everyone do a double-take because they expected some big tough man behind it but were instead met with Jamie.

Scrawny, mouthy, frizzy-haired, little girl, Jamie.

When she was a kid, the reactions thrilled her. The flustered expression on a substitute teacher's face, unsure whether Jamie's raised hand and crooked grin were out of epicaricacy or an attempted mutiny. The lifted brow of a receptionist as she stood obediently at their call.

Eventually everyone on their side of town came to know her name and the shock of it wore off. She grew into her name like the hand-me-down t-shirts she'd been given by the pastor's wife down the street and after a while, no one questioned if it fit. Later, only the occasional older boy or mean girl in school found it amusing to point out the obvious. 

"Jameson is a boys' name." 

As if she'd never been told that before. It was the type of mindless taunt she used against people, so she knew the reaction they were hoping to get. But Jamie wouldn't give them any defensive protests or flushed cheeks to mock. She came back with sharper words, sometimes fists, because Jack had prepared her well for the cruelty of the world. He tried to make her into the man that her name painted her to be.

Jack may have been a drunk, but he wasn't the type to walk around stumbling or talking nonsense. He was a serious man whose name just so happened to coincide with his beverage of choice, an elaborate joke surely played by the universe itself. 

He went through half gallon bottles of Tennessee whiskey like there was an impending drought and referred to his consumption as "self-medicating", which Jamie couldn't deny. Jamie had only seen him sober a handful of times, each worse than the last so she knew it was true, that despite what anyone else might say the alcohol did help. For Jack, booze was medicine. And like any doting daughter would, Jamie got really good at making sure her father had his medicine.

Jack had friends who were drunks too, who'd haul cases of beer in their beaten old pickup trucks to come sit in a semi-circle of dirty plastic lawn chairs at the edge of Jack's garage. Some of them had jobs. Tony was a mechanic. Jeff serendipitously owned the liquor store down the street. Jack's best friend Gary however, lived off of welfare and baby bonus handouts from the government, since his wife had popped out a dozen kids and died birthing the last.

Jack called Gary a "lazy piece of shit" nearly daily, but in the half-smirk wearing, crinkle-eyed way that told Jamie he wasn't angry about it. He couldn't have thought too poorly about the man, considering how often they were together. Inseparable. The two men spent most days sitting side-by-side, staring into the bush or at a TV screen, commiserating about their parallel lives.

"This is what life's about, Gary." Jack would mutter over the brim of a coffee mug filled with coke and whiskey. "Good men, beaten down by the system."

"The system" was Jack's excuse for a lot of problems in their life. Jamie didn't get a new backpack or shoes before school because of "the system". Jack was dishonorably discharged from the military for desertion before Jamie was born because of "the system". Jamie's mom didn't have to pay Jack any child support, despite abandoning Jamie with him, because of "the system". It took Jamie a long time to realize that "the system" wasn't some tangible machine bent on destroying Jack's livelihood. Though Gary and Jack acted otherwise, always talking about "dismantling the system" without ever leaving their dingy plastic seats.

It was only 10:45am, but it was the kind of day where Jamie was bed-bound, her body choosing betrayal. She'd woken up to a dull ache in her lower back and pelvis, a nausea-inducing feeling of pressure and inexplicable strain that made her hate her body more than usual. She spent an hour shuddering on the toilet, fighting the involuntary spasms in her clenching gut until she was certain she had nothing left to accidentally squeeze out and returned to her room where she'd stayed since. Thankfully, she wasn't due for her period yet, though it was sometimes irregular, skipping a month or going on for two weeks straight. While she'd rate today's cramps as a bit worse than usual, her "episodes" (a term coined by Tia) were unavoidably excruciating during shark week. At least today, she could still sit up and work. That is, if she weren't so damn distracted...

Jamie stretched her fingers out over her keyboard and glared past her darkening screen into her own reflection. Her scowling face, all thin lips and furrowed brows, stared back at her accusingly. It made her want to slam the screen down, but the laptop had been a gift from Tia, so she never actually would.

Jamie's hair was a godawful mess of bed-head and she spent a minute pulling her fingers through it harshly, trying to flatten it out before giving up with an irritated sigh. For a moment, she saw a hint of Jack in her features. The square shape of her sharp jaw, the wide bridge of her nose. It used to please her, when people would look at her and say she looked just like her daddy. She wasn't sure how she felt about it now, only that her fingers found her teeth in the same habitual way they always did, whether she was here or there.

"C'mon, do it." Jamie muttered to herself around the tip of her ring finger, clicking the mouse pad a little harder than necessary to prevent her computer from going into sleep mode.

As the screen brightened, her fingers stilled again, uncooperatively. Before Tia had left for work, she'd delivered Jamie some pain killers alongside her anti-depressants, mild muscle relaxants and stool softeners, all of which had already kicked in. Despite the meds, or maybe because of them, Jamie was stuck in this sort of half-in-pain, half-numb state that fogged her brain.

And pain made Jamie a little grumpier. It reminded her of the days when Jack would complain about his back or shoulders or headaches and Jamie would scramble around trying to solve a problem that she couldn't see with a lead ball in her stomach and her heart fluttering in her throat. Only now she was the one hurting and that gave her some degree of control over the matter. 

Even doubled over in pain, Jamie knew how to hold her breath to stop her cries from leaking out. Jack had always been stronger than Jamie, but his pain was greater too. She imagined how badly he must've been hurting for him to let on about it and she clutched the memories like an anchor, grounding her on her worst days. He'd shown her what real strength looked like and if he saw her whimpering and cowering over something as pathetic as a cramped gut, he'd be furious. She may not be allowed to see him anymore but his lessons remained. On top of that, she refused to darken Tia's bright life with her miserable rain clouds, so suffering in silence was her only way to go. 

It had been four hours since Tia went out and Jamie hadn't managed to even open her employee portal yet, too trapped in her head. She was sitting in her bed at Tia's but each time she blinked, part of her expected to wake up right back home on their musty old couch, wedged between Jack and Gary like the rest of her life had been some weird dream.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine and a throb in her chest.

Gary had been a horrible father, leaving his eldest daughters to raise the herd while Gary sat comfortably at Jack's side, nursing a six pack an hour. Jack was about two decades younger than Gary who would be in his sixties now and probably had as few of his children around as Jack did. It made Jamie's stomach twist to know that this time, she'd given them one more thing in common. She was sure that they were probably sitting in Jack's living room right now, huffing about how they'd become estranged from their families because of "the system".

As a kid, Jamie thought she was so lucky to have Jack, but she felt especially blessed when Weston came around. Weston was Gary's youngest kid- a boy who was only six years older than Jamie. One might think that the pair of them had grown up together, considering how close their old men were, but no. Where Jamie followed Jack around like a dumb baby duck, Gary's approach to parenting was more to kick his young out of the nest and fly as far as possible away.

Jamie and Weston had attended the same schools, but she only ever caught glimpses of him here and there across the library or down a long hall. They had a stretch of grades between them that meant they rarely crossed paths organically, less if she could help it. Jamie had only ever heard the worst about Weston; the times he'd given Gary something to complain about besides breathing and existing. Until she turned 13, Weston hadn't so much as ever glanced her way on purpose. But when he finally did, things changed. Everything changed.

Jamie's stomach pulsed sending an angry flash of pain through her that settled low in her back. She pulled her fingers from her mouth, spitting softened bits of fingernail into the waste bin beside her bed, and pressed that hand against her midsection like the pressure alone could stop the pain. 

It was useless, pretending like she could actually be productive when she was in such a state. A weak, stupid part of her wanted to reach into the crevice between the wall and her bed and clutch J against her chest but the urge was childish and doing that wouldn't alleviate her pain, so she didn't. Instead, Jamie pressed her hand harder into the muscle of her abdomen and leaned back on her headboard, closing her eyes.

It quickly turned out that that was the wrong thing to do though because thinking about Weston was like pushing a snowball down a hill. When she closed her eyes, it was no longer Jack's dark living room in front of her, but the image of him. Weston's face, in a vibrancy that usually only tainted her dreams.

In Jamie's mind, Weston always looked just as perfect as the day he had left her. She could picture so clearly his high, narrow cheekbones and bright green eyes that must've come from his mother's side. His lips which were always quirked, like he was holding back something witty or about to burst into the smirk that she'd once thought was the most beautiful thing in the world. The way he kissed her, always hungry, like he wanted to devour her. Always urgent and forceful, stoking Jamie to fight him back. 

He'd been her first and last kiss- her first and last everything- and he'd always lorded over her how much more experienced he was. It was a constant jibe, mocking her inadequacies wherever he could. He liked to point out things about her that weren't like other girls. Parts of her that didn't look or work right. And he did that right up until the day he'd left her, sprawled and sobbing on his bathroom floor.

There'd been an awkward span during her inpatient stay where she'd had to dive into it all, laying out their relationship for Dr. Theo to pick apart and refashion into something ugly. She couldn't remember those sessions anymore, only the framework of them and fragments of what they'd discussed. 

She still missed Weston, but the draw wasn't love anymore. Months of Dr. Theo's persistent, endless nagging had done its job, and she couldn't go back to her willfully blind, romanticized perception of him. Jamie hated it but she had to admit that it was the familiarity she craved. Even the parts that hurt. 

If Weston had heard the petulant way she'd defended his actions to Dr. Theo, he would've laughed right in Jamie's clueless face. Would've called her desperate and needy. And he would've been right. 

Jamie flushed, a wave of shame and embarrassment heating her cheeks just thinking about it. She needed to stop thinking about it. 

Properly fired up, she pulled her laptop in close and set her fingers back on the keyboard. A lazy, bitter thought bubbled to the surface and she let it take her, pushing her fingers compliantly against the keys.

What stupid fucking holiday is on Dr. Theo's calendar today?

She typed 'holidays today' into her Google search bar. Hundreds of results popped up in a second, but she only really cared about the top one. 

International Kite Day. Oh, that is so fucking lame.

Jamie clicked the first link and immediately laughed out loud at the thought of Dr. Theo taking a lunch break to fly some obnoxiously large plastic kite or something. Her guts cramped from the movement and it was the type of aching squeeze that forced a rush of panic. Gingerly, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and waddled towards the bathroom. 

She hadn't eaten or drank anything yet today, but she needed to soon. Jamie knew from experience that it took longer than 12 hours to fully dry out her system, and unfortunately, drinking less came with its own awful symptoms, including but not limited to: a dreadful burning feeling, headaches, dizziness, nausea, and glares from doctors threatening to insert an IV and catheter.

"Do you understand the ramifications of severe dehydration?" An exasperated middle-aged man in a white coat asked Jamie, as a team of cowardly nurses huddled behind him.

"You come at me with another needle and I'll fucking ramify my fist into your face. You understand that, Doc?" Jamie croaked back weakly.

Less than an hour after that, she'd caved. She drank at least three litres of water that night, glass by refreshing glass, which predictably resulted in a humiliating accident in her hospital bed that eventually led to her worst diagnosis by far. They'd sedated her for the gynecological exam at least- a small mercy.

Unfortunately, knowing what was wrong with her didn't do shit to help because her problem, like all of her issues, was mostly in her head. The one place she just couldn't seem to escape.

As Jamie settled back on the toilet, she hooked her feet around a stool they kept in there for her to use and sighed. 

"I cannot believe this is my life." She muttered darkly to the ceiling. 

Apparently breathing and relaxing were supposed to help but neither came naturally to Jamie. Dr. Theo loved to point out how tense she looked in her shoulders and legs. She was always on edge.

Jamie supposed her entire body was just built that way, pulled tighter than a bowstring, bound one day to snap. Or maybe she'd be more like a kitestring, and when she finally let go, she'd find herself drifting away.

Chapter Text

"Dad, please-" Jamie choked out a sob, kicking and shoving but Jack was immovable, caging her against their bedroom wall. His hands gripped her wrists and pressed them down on either side of her so tightly she knew she'd be bruised there for weeks. 

It would be embarrassing to have to hide the marks- a constant reminder of her insolent disobedience until they faded away. However, those bruises weren't nearly as embarrassing as the handprint that still stung on her cheek. A combination of pain and shame forced a well of tears into her eyes.

"I'm sorry dad, I didn't mean to- You're hurting me-" Jamie's voice shook and wavered as her entire body trembled.

"I told you not t'fucking call me that, you-" Jack sputtered incoherently and Jamie instantly errupted into a fountain of apologies. She'd barely just managed to wiggle out of Jack's demanding grip when he re-adjusted his hold and slammed her back into the wall again.

Her head thudded against the hollow drywall and distantly she worried he might slam her right through it. They couldn't afford to repair it if he did.

"Please stop d- Jack- Jack, please! I'll be good, please!" She bawled, dragging out the words through gasping tears but he didn't listen. It was too late.

Jack leaned into her face and when she flinched back, knocking her skull against the wall behind her again, he pressed further until their foreheads collided with headache-inducing force. She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, tasting blood. Jack's hot breath fanned across her nose and mouth, the stench of whiskey and something rotten making her gag.

Spit flew from his lips as he screamed at her, throwing unintelligible words. Something about addressing him with respect when he spoke or coming when he called her the first time.

A fresh wave of terror washed over her as a pool of warmth began to spread down the pantlegs of her jeans. It wasn't on purpose but she knew she'd be punished for it anyways. Like training a bad puppy, he'd probably force her to her knees and shove her face into the puddle of urine growing at their feet.

Suddenly, a light came on, blinding Jamie and bringing her back to consciousness. It wasn't Jack pinning her, but bedsheets twisted around her legs, encasing her. Thrashing and sobbing, she managed to untangle herself and roll onto the floor. 

"Hey, you're okay." Tia's warm voice murmured from above, gently pulling the blankets away. 

Jamie was faintly aware of a throbbing in her hip from where she'd landed on the ground but the feeling didn't compare to the pain she'd dreamt up. It had felt so real. His grip on her. The spit on her face.

Because at one point, it had been.

Jamie's body curled inwards instinctively, burying her face in her arms to muffle her cries. Vaguely, she realized she'd wet herself in her sleep, the padding at her crotch swollen and hot. She could feel it pressing against her as her entire body balled up. Of course that part had actually happened. It made the experience just that much worse.

"Please leave," Jamie managed to blubber between gasping too-fast breaths. 

Instead of listening, Tia sank to her knees and started rubbing gentle circles against Jamie's back, in the same place that echoed an old ache, long-buried. "I'm sorry honey," she murmured softly. "You're okay now. He's not here."

He's not here. 

It was supposed to be a comfort, but Tia's words only deepened her pain because Jamie was the one in the wrong. Here Tia was, trying to soothe Jamie, but she didn't know the story behind any of it. She didn't know that Jamie had sworn at Jack that day, hurling expletives down the hall when all he'd done was call her to make dinner. Tia didn't know how patient Jack had been, asking her first if she'd like to try again before ever laying a hand on her. Things only escalated because she couldn't be respectful and she needed to learn respect. It was his job to teach it to her. It was her job to learn.

"Hey, you're safe, Jamie. It's okay," Tia continued in that butter-soft voice, offering all the warmth and nurture a woman should. If Jack were here, he'd be equally as likely to mock her and he would be to point her out as a prime example of the woman Jamie was meant to be.

As Jamie laid curled on the floor, tears leaking from her eyes into the carpet below, the day she'd dreamt of came to her more clearly. She had only been ten at the time but she'd been deemed a woman by nature two years prior and that changed things. After the first time she'd bled, Jack looked at her differently. She'd never really been allowed to call him dad before, but overnight, that turned from a preference to a rule. She took on a slew of new chores, from cooking dinner to sewing Jack's worn clothes and massaging his shoulders nightly. As time went on he added more and more to the pile until Jamie felt hopeless- like there was no way to truly please him anymore. 

If she were a better woman, she would've adapted to it. She wouldn't have left when the going got tough- she'd have stuck around and proved to him she was worth something. But that wasn't how her story ended. 

Instead here she was, sobbing ugly, open-mouthed sobs, wishing not for the first time that she'd been born the man that her father had always wanted instead of being shaped into this two-sided freak that couldn't flip fast enough. Someone that looked like a woman but spoke like a man, without any of their redeeming qualities like natural intellect or brute strength.

"Men and women both have their purposes and if you can't fulfill your God-given purpose? Well, you're better off dead."

Jamie wasn't sure what God Jack believed in, only that His rules changed circumstantially.

"What was that?" Tia asked, leaning down so close Jamie could smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo.

Jamie didn't even realize she'd been speaking- pleading still- like her mouth hadn't yet woken up from the dream.

"-be better- I w-will, please- I c-can b-be better-"

Jamie's words tumbled out weakly and she forced a shaking hand to her mouth, as if she could stuff them back in. She couldn't open her eyes- couldn't face her aunt witnessing another one of her breakdowns. They rarely happened to this degree. 

Jack had told Jamie time and again what it meant to be a man and what it meant to be a woman. Men were the big thinkers, the inventors. They created the lightbulb and discovered gravity. They were teachers like Einstein or Jesus's disciples- none of which were women by God's own design. Women were homemakers. They existed to populate the planet and nourish the boys who would one day be men. 

"When I treat you like a man, it's because you've earned it, Jamie. When I treat you like a woman, that's because you are one. Maybe that don't make sense yet, but you'll realize one day how lucky you are."

Somedays, being treated like a man meant getting a taste of Jack's whiskey, sweetened by soda and hot in the back of her throat. Other days, it left her picking gravel out of her knees, a consequence any man would face for disrupting Jack's peace.

"-calling Dr. Theo, okay?" Tia's voice broke through the raging currents in Jamie's mind, pulling her to the surface.

Forcing her bleary eyes open, Jamie jolted upright in horror. "No! No please, I'll be good! I've stopped. I'm stopping, see? I'll be good Tia, I swear," she choked out.

Tia was standing over Jamie now, her cellphone in hand, looking utterly unconvinced. 

Using her bed frame to pull herself up, Jamie rushed to her feet. Her entire body was still shaking and she had to lock her knees to keep from swaying. She couldn't smell anything through her snot-clogged nose but she was sure she probably reeked like sweat and piss. Bunching her sleeve in her hand, she used the fabric to scrub away the moisture on her face before Tia could point it out.

"Honey," Tia said gently, placing a hand on Jamie's shoulder. "You're not in trouble, okay? I'm not sending you away, I just want to let him know you had a rough night. Maybe see if he can squeeze us in earlier, yeah?" 

Tia's eyes were dark- nearly black even in the light. It made the shine of tears in them look like water glistening across the bottom of a well. When she reached out to hug Jamie, Jamie knew even with the disgusting state of herself, she couldn't ignore her aunt's open arms. 

Jamie took a step forwards, letting Tia fold her into her embrace.

"I'm sorry, Tia." Jamie's voice came out in ragged whispers, but it was audible enough.

"Me too, kid." Tia returned grimly, the sound of her voice reverberating through her chest into Jamie's.

I'm sorry, Jack.

—————

"It's been two years, Tiana, and she's only getting worse. When will it be time to push her out of the nest?"

The muffled conversation Alex and Tia had after Jamie's nightmare replayed in her mind like an unskippable ad between her thoughts.

"-she's only getting worse."

Alex was a fucking dick but he wasn't wrong. He cared about Tia and he didn't sugarcoat the burden Jamie was on her like Dr. Theo and Tia did.

"only getting worse."

"- with you the whole time. Hey, are you listening?"

Tia's eyes darted from the road to Jamie's face. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands.

"Earth to Jamie."

Shaking from her stupor, Jamie gave a jerky nod. "Yeah, whole time. Gotcha."

It was Thursday, which meant that after Tia dropped Jamie off, she'd pull out her computer and work on her prep work in the parking lot until Jamie's appointment finished. As an art teacher for students from kindergarten to high school, Tia had classes every weekday besides Thursday, which was precisely why Thursday had been their day of choice for Jamie's appointments. Jamie felt guilty she'd scared Tia and woken her up, but part of her was relieved too. If her brain was going to be evil, at least it had chosen the right day.

"Okay," Tia murmured, sounding unconvinced and maybe even annoyed. Jamie couldn't respond, too focused on stripping back layers of nail from her ring finger with her teeth. She bit a sore spot and winced, tasting blood. Then switched to gnawing her thumb instead. 

Tia noticed her nail-biting and reached over, giving a playful swat at Jamie's hand. "Stop that. That's disgusting!" She teased, but an undercurrent of concern laced her tone.

Jamie made a noise of protest and simply turned her head to the passenger window to continue ripping down to her tender flesh until the vehicle stopped in the clinic's parking lot.

Unlike usual, Tia escorted Jamie all the way inside today, making small-talk with the secretary as they waited for Dr. Theo's last session to finish. Tia had done this more in the beginning, when Jamie wasn't trusted to actually stay for her sessions. She'd since learned how to suppress her urges to sneak away or spend an hour in the single bathroom waiting Dr. Theo out. 

Maybe Tia didn't trust her after how crazy she'd reacted to a dream. Or maybe she wanted to chat with the quack that deemed Jamie stable enough to be out of inpatient treatment, when clearly she was anything but.

Fucking focus.

Jamie tried to rehearse what she wanted to say but a lack of sleep and Alex's brutal words from last night overpowered her will.

"she's only getting worse."

He was right.

"Right, Jamie?" Tia laughed, looping her in mid-conversation with the secretary. 

"Huh? Oh uh, yeah." Jamie replied half-heartedly over her fingers, hoping to get away with a noncommittal response. 

Tia's lips tightened in an exasperated way as she scanned Jamie's face before launching back into her chat. The weight of Tia's unsatisfied expression curled Jamie's shoulders. By the time Dr. Theo was ready, Jamie's fingers were numb and she could taste the metallic tang of blood again.

Dr. Theo greeted Jamie cheerfully, holding the door open as wide as his smile. He never looked that happy after his sessions with her. Something about that irked Jamie but she was too distracted to make a snide remark about it, because Tia was striding into the room behind her as if she intended to stay.

"What are you doing?" Jamie stammered in protest as Dr. Theo closed the door and gestured for both of them to sit.

"Jamie, Tia tells me you're having nightmares again." Dr. Theo began, his voice soft and compassionate.

It made Jamie's stomach turn.

With Tia in the room, Dr. Theo had the ultimate shield. Jamie couldn't even think straight enough to call him out on his obvious cowardice. Her tongue felt like a hunk of useless rubber. Two sets of expectant eyes burned into Jamie's face but she was stuck staring intensely at the floor. Mute.

"she's only getting worse."

"push her out of the nest."

Panic flooded through a distant part of her brain, but it was as if a connection had been severed. Somewhere in her was a live wire of exposed nerves.

"Jamie?" Dr. Theo prompted. She couldn't even shrug. 

Instead of sitting like Tia, Jamie stared dumbly at her seat, unable to get her limbs to move.

"What's wrong, Jamie?" Tia asked, leaning towards her.

"I think she's a bit overwhelmed, but that's okay." Dr. Theo murmured reassuringly.

Jamie couldn't look at either of them. She just stared at Dr. Theo's stupid beige armchair next to the rolling office chair that had obviously been placed for Tia. And stared. And stared.

"Jamie, can you name five things you see for me?"

The floor. The door. The ground. Fuck, I mean-

As if breaking from a trance, Jamie's eyes lifted.

"Clock. Uh, desk. Stupid desk calendar." She managed weakly, lacking her usual spite. Dr. Theo gave an encouraging nod. 

"Very good, just two more please." 

"Pencil, computer. I hate this."

A disproportionate level of exhaustion flooded Jamie's system, leaving her sagging where she stood.

"I know. Thank you for doing it anyway. Now, four things you can hear?" 

Jamie knew this method but it didn't help her feel anymore prepared when he asked.

"Uhh your voice." She mumbled. "My voice, uh. Cars outside. Something's humming- maybe- maybe the heating system?"

Dr. Theo nodded again. "Good, thank you. And three things you can feel?"

This time, she paused to think and take a deeper breath.

"The chair." She reached out and brushed her fingers on the arm reflexively. "My jeans are- uh, too tight. My fingers sting."

The exercise had two more levels to it but Dr. Theo always stopped with her here. Jamie recalled the first time he'd walked her through the entire technique, how she mentioned the strong smell of disinfectant in his office and how the burn of alcohol in it reminded her of Jack. It derailed the rest of the session and Dr. Theo had made a point of stopping before there ever since. After that, she swore the smell of the cleaners changed too.

"Your fingernails do look pretty irritated." Dr. Theo mused. Without thinking, Jamie squeezed her hands into fists before tucking them firmly against her sides.

"They're fine." She muttered. From the opposite chair, Tia looked subtly relieved by the exchange.

"I may have started us off too abruptly there, especially with Tia joining us today." Dr. Theo started calmly. "Changes in routine can throw us all off balance."

Jamie didn't even scoff. She could feel Dr. Theo assessing her with casual glances as he spoke.

"Tia, it's great to have you. Would either of you like anything to drink before we start? Water, coffee, tea?"

Tia masked her hesitant expression with a soft smile. "Tea sounds lovely."

In the corner of Dr. Theo's office sat a little bar cart topped with a coffee machine, mugs and baskets of sugar packets, cream cups, and Keurig pods. He'd used it on occasion for himself at their sessions. Jamie always turned his offers down. Watching Tia accept a tea from Dr. Theo so gracefully made all of Jamie's past refusals feel childish and silly. 

As Dr. Theo poured it, a warm and cinnamon-y scent filled the room that reminded Jamie of her kindergarten teacher. Jamie thought it might have been nice to sip while they talked, like Tia. Then immediately felt ridiculous all over again for comparing herself to Tia, who was kind and generous and actually deserved the comforting treat in a way that Jamie never would.

"Jamie, would it be okay if Tia recounts what happened last night? Just to start us off?" Dr. Theo asked, interrupting Jamie's train of thought.

Jamie nodded, not because it was okay but because that's what she supposed they wanted her to do. Dr. Theo didn't seem convinced but gestured for Tia to proceed. 

"I just want you to be safe and healthy." Tia started, eyes locked on Jamie, clutching her steaming mug with both hands. "I worry, and... your nightmares are so brutal. And violent. And I just wish you'd talk to someone about... it."

"She's had these clearly awful dreams pretty steady for the past two years." Tia continued, facing Dr. Theo now. "At first it made sense. Fresh out of the hospital, new home. Jack was a drunk. I know he hit her- she doesn't talk about it but I know, y'know?" Tia's voice strained as she spoke.

He never hit me without a good reason.

"- But she won't talk. And it's not getting better. Last night was one of those nights." 

"she's only getting worse."

Clock. Desk. Tia. Chair. Wall. Desk. Fuck. Here it comes.

"Thank you, Tia. I hear your concerns-" Dr. Theo's voice faded like an outro. Jamie squeezed her fists, clinging to the pinpricks of pain. 

I am never going to get better.

"- pretty frequent. And she- the things she screams-" 

"I get it, you want me gone." The words bubbled out of Jamie's mouth uncontrollably but the moment they were out, she knew they were true.

The air between them turned thick. Jamie could hardly see past the film over her eyes, could hardly hear through the cotton in her ears. Tia made some sputtering noise of protest as if Jamie hadn't just hit the nail on the head. Closing her eyes, Jamie's thoughts drowned out the noise of Dr. Theo escorting Tia from the room. 

She doesn't fucking want me. No one fucking wants me. I ruined everything with the only person who ever did. I have no one and I deserve it.

"Jamie, can you tell me where you are?" Dr. Theo asked firmly, leaning forward in the seat across from her. She knew it was one of those grounding things he always tried to keep her 'present'. It had been a while since he last had to reel it in twice in one session like that. She was being an awful patient.

Something like guilt turned her stomach. "Your office." She mustered.

"Describe it?"

Dr. Theo's eyes were blue. An ordinary shade of blue that wasn't particularly bright, like Jamie's denim jeans. Still, with a certain expression they could be piercing. Jamie could feel him wearing that expression right now, burning through the backs of her eyelids.

With a shaky breath, she forced herself to look around and realized that at some point, she'd taken a seat. "It's like a regular office I guess. Except you've got a coffee station which feels different. And like, you have this desk calendar that's kinda lame. Sorry, that's mean to say."

Dr. Theo gave a wry smile at that. For a moment, the tension lifted. 

"C'mon, how else would we know that it's National Bagel Day in the States?" He gestured to his desk lightheartedly.  

Jamie felt her own lips quirk. "Why does it even matter?" She tried to keep the banter friendly, but it was hard to manage around the lump in her throat.

Dr. Theo gave a shrug. "Why not?"

Jamie could think of a thousand reasons.

"It's just another day." She said, a little more insistently. She expected Dr. Theo would get offended or try to redirect her onto a more productive topic, but instead he looked almost intrigued.

"Don't all days deserve to be celebrated?" 

Jamie scoffed. "How do you even celebrate bagels? What, is there like some kind of stupid parade?"

Dr. Theo's face twitched with a small smirk as he reached into a little black lunchbox tucked behind his desk. Then, he tossed her a sandwich baggie stuffed with a bagel.

Jamie fumbled but caught it, trying her best not to squish it in her clumsy hands. "What does-"

"This is how I celebrate it." Dr. Theo answered. "Not all celebrations require a parade, Jamie."

Jamie wrinkled her nose and held out the baggie. "Still stupid." She muttered. Dr. Theo accepted it and set the baggie on his desk.

"Maybe, but it gives me something different to look forward to each day. Everyone could use a bit more of that, don't you think?" Dr. Theo's words were gentle but they felt like a test. Like one he thought she'd fail.

Jamie's cheeks burned. She didn't need him handfeeding her easy questions. What, did he think she'd agree and he'd praise her and they'd celebrate it like some emotional breakthrough?

"Sure. We can all hold hands and kumbaya. Is that what you wanna hear?" Jamie sneered. All at once the friendly atmosphere changed in the room to something more cynical.

Jack would hate him as much as I do. 

Jamie didn't miss the way Dr. Theo's eyes hardened. It was the same look she'd seen in the eyes of the nurse that she'd cursed out for being so delicate in changing her dressings. It was a look that said 'you're an ungrateful bitch that doesn't deserve my kindness'. Only unlike the nurse, Dr. Theo wasn't tightening his grip on her wrist as he did it. Ever the professional, he quickly regained his composure.

Adjusting his thick-framed glasses he seemed to bounce right back. "Does it upset you that I feel each day is worth celebrating?"

"I don't care what you do. I just think it's stupid. You've got this whole shtick about it, like you can't just be a therapist- you make it your like, life's mission to 'celebrate every day' or whatever. And it's stupid. Not every day is worth celebrating. Have you considered that? It's great you've got this whole dandy life where you like save people for a living but some of us don't deserve it. So you can celebrate and enjoy being a good person but don't push that on me." 

Jamie finished her rant, fists clenched, fingertips throbbing with the pressure. She had to fight the urge to bring her index finger to her mouth and chew.

Her foot began to tap impatiently as she waited for Dr. Theo's facade to break. Any moment now he could reach across the gap and wind his hand around her throat and push her against the wall and scream in her face like she deserved. Instead he just stared. 

"What, you're gonna tell me I'm wrong, huh?" Jamie sneered, knowing he wouldn't. Dr. Theo wasn't man enough to put anyone else in their place.

"I see." He murmured thoughtfully, how he always did when he was buying more time to think. His lack of reaction was almost infuriating.

HIT ME. I FUCKING DESERVE IT. HIT ME.

Dr. Theo sighed a deep sigh, then leaned back.

"I'm sorry you were made to feel like you aren't a good person, Jamie. I hope one day you'll recognize that you're also worthy of celebrating. Even if you prefer to celebrate by doing nothing at all." 

Dr. Theo's words reeked of sincerity and compassion in a way that made Jamie's head spin. His kindness was genuinely nauseating.

... I don't deserve this.

"Stop." She choked out, standing from her chair but it was too late. The tears that had been burning in her eyes began to flood down her cheeks.

"Jamie," Dr. Theo murmured softly but she cut him off. She couldn't fucking stand to hear it anymore. "I'm s-"

"Shut the f-fuck up. SHUT UP. SHUT UP." Jamie began to scream.

Jack will never be here ever again.

Something in her broke. Her voice only continued to rise as she scrambled backwards away from Dr. Theo who'd stood up in alarm. He didn't open his mouth again, but Jamie couldn't see straight.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TALK TO ME-" she screeched, arms outstretched in front of her even as she blindly stumbled back. 

"I can't- you- YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE- YOU FUCKING DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. You DON'T GET IT!"

Suddenly, her back hit the wall, jolting her. She had nowhere else to go. Dr. Theo stood between her and the only door. She would be trapped in his office for as long as he'd like, screaming like a wounded animal in a cage. 

Jamie slid down to the floor, letting her head bounce against the drywall, arms flying up to protect her face. 

"Don't fucking t-touch me- please, don't touch me- please don't- don't touch me-" she cried, her voice broken and raspy as she mashed her face into her knees. Nonsensical words poured out from her mouth as she blubbered, unable to think or stop herself from it.

"Please, just let me- let me go, please- let me go- p-please."

It took 20 minutes for Tia to get through to her and calm her down enough to bring her home. As the hysteria faded, complete apathy set in. Dr. Theo spoke to Tia in coded words about having her committed as if she wasn't standing right there. But in a way, it felt like she wasn't. And she found that she actually didn't care.

Once they got home, Jamie was instructed to go shower because at some point during her tantrum in Dr. Theo's office, she'd pissed herself. Jamie stood in the bathroom, staring blankly at the wall for nearly 30 minutes until Tia realized she hadn't even started. Jamie's unresponsiveness was unnerving and concerning at best but could quickly become a real problem. It took Tia threatening to strip her down herself for her to comply. When she finally moved, her limbs were stiff and robotic and she seemed not to notice that Tia was even there.

Chapter Text

After the tantrum session, Dr. Theo had their meeting frequency increased to every other day and it only took five minutes of the first session back for him to call Tia in and throw the term “catatonic” out there.

Despite his concerns and recommendations, Tia still wouldn't admit Jamie back to the inpatient facility. Jamie's alarming behavior lasted nearly two weeks. Alex watched Tia care for her for 12 full days before he finally said something about it. Which for Alex, was an incredible show of patience.

"She needs help Tiana. Real help. From doctors and people who know how to treat her BPD or whatever she has." Alex insisted loudly from their bedroom. Tia shushed him, answering with angry, inaudible words.

Jamie had only gotten worse. She wouldn't even move without being physically prompted to. Like a video game character, you had to put an object in her hand to make her perform certain actions. Time to brush Jamie's teeth? Stand her at the sink and put a toothbrush in her hand. Time for Jamie to get dressed? Shut her in her room with a bundle of clothing in her arms. Time for Jamie to work? Set up her laptop and put it in front of her. Time for Jamie to take a bathroom break? Walk her to the toilet and make sure to close the door.

Now, she sat as she had last been placed, on Tia's couch, in listening range of Alex's latest “Jamie is too fucked up” lecture but not hearing any of it. The TV was clocked into some cooking show that Jamie wasn't watching but if she had been, she still would have been able to hear Alex's voice clearly over it. Jamie should've been listening, worrying about how close she was to being disposed of once again, but she couldn't feel anything. She was a zombie.

Whatever argument Alex and Tia had ended with the slam of a door, and Alex storming back in muttering about boundaries. When Tia returned, Alex left and Tia began preparing Jamie for bed.

If Jamie were conscious for their argument, she would've hidden in her own room, chewing anxiously at her fingernails, thinking about all of the ways she'd let Tia down. She would've smelled the traces of cigarette smoke clinging to Tia's shirt, hands, and hair- a secret habit that Tia only fell back into when she was really stressed. And Jamie definitely would've protested at being tucked into bed in Tia's own room.

"He's not coming back tonight." Tia's voice wavered as she spoke to herself, her fingers gently stroking Jamie's hair. The gesture was meant to be comforting, but Tia's pets were hurried, almost frantic. Jamie hated being pet- it only ever happened after something bad. But Tia found it soothing to do, so Jamie had never asked her not to.

Tia's voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

At some point, Tia left Jamie to have another smoke on their back porch. She would quit again once the pack was finished, like she always did. Jamie laid there motionless in the dark, alone, blank eyes staring into nothing. She didn't startle at the creak of the bedroom door or stir when the bed sagged under someone else's weight.

Alex's soft apologies as he stripped should've alarmed her, but they didn't. Fumbling in the dark, he left his clothes in a pile on the floor.

"T, I'm an ass." He murmured. "You're here trying to do the right thing all the time, and I don't make it easier and I'm sorry."

Alex sighed heavily into the silent room, blankets rustling as he shifted under them. His hand came to rest on Jamie's stomach as he rolled onto his side. For the first time in a week, she felt a flare of discomfort shudder through her, making the hairs on her arms prickle. Jamie wanted to say something, but she couldn't reach her voice.

Alex's hand rubbed small circles at first, then started to creep low. "C'mon T, talk to me." He pleaded, lips by her ear. Jamie's pulse thundered, heart racing from the unwanted contact. Somewhere deep in her subconscious, her mind screamed no.

Jamie and Tia were both short, with medium-length dark hair and that's where the similarities between them stopped. Unfortunately, in the pitch dark of Tia's bedroom, it was enough.

"Are you really going to give me the cold shoulder?" Alex joked with an undercurrent of desperation. His hand left her stomach so he could prop himself up and crawl over her, pinning her between his legs. Everything about it felt so familiar to Jamie and so, so wrong.

Alex hovered over Jamie so that they were face-to-face with only inches between.

Don't. She thought to herself, wishing she could force the words through.

"Talk to me, please." Alex said ironically. As he spoke, his breath fanned her face. It was warm and smelled faintly like whiskey. Jamie felt her hands ball into fists under the covers. Alex's weight shifted as he leaned in.

The weight of his body combined with the liquor on his breath finally broke Jamie's voice free.

"Jack," she croaked.

Alex leapt off her like he'd been shot.

"What the fuck-"

With a slap of Alex's fumbling hand, he managed to flick the bedroom light on, blinding Jamie briefly. Shock and fear pulsed through her, propelling her backwards til her head hit the headboard with a dull thud.

"Jamie?" He gasped, standing there in nothing but a pair of black briefs as his eyes swept over her and the rest of the room.

Jamie's breath came in wild pants as she regained control of her senses again. "Alex, I'm-"

"What's going on?" Tia's anxious voice suddenly rang out, interrupting Jamie as she ran down the hall.

"T." Alex called as she entered the room. "Why the fuck is she in our bed?"

"I thought you were leaving." Tia spat out, temper aggravated by the energy in the room.

Alex's nostrils flared, eyes narrowing as he took in Tia's cold-flushed cheeks and winter jacket. "And I thought you quit smoking." Alex countered.

"I-I'm sorry," Jamie stammered out finally, hands bunching in Tia's blankets, skin still crawling from the encounter. Tia and Alex's heads both whipped around to stare at Jamie in surprise. Tia's angry expression turned to relief, then confusion as she scanned the scene.

"Alex, what did you..." Tia's voice trailed off in horror as she realized for the first time, his state of near nakedness.

Alex's eyes were just as wide and horrified, as he ran a hand over his face and then through his hair. "I fucking- well, I practically groped your niece, thinking- thinking it was you!"

Jamie could almost taste the alcohol that had been on Alex's breath. The tension in the room deflated at once, until it was only Jamie left shaking and ragged.

"Jamie?" Tia said softly, hands outstretched and moving slow like one might approach a frightened animal. "Are you okay?"

Jamie squeezed her eyes tight, and shook out her hands. "I'm really sorry." She repeated, her voice still hoarse from dis-use.

Tia sat next to her on the bed and made a soft, shushing sound.

"No Jamie, I'm sorry." Alex replied with a sigh, voice achingly sincere. "Seriously, I would- I would have never crawled over you like that if I thought it was you."

Jamie didn't protest as Tia scooted backwards up the bed to sit next to her. She kept a hesitant space between them like she wasn't sure if it was okay to sit too closely. It was Jamie who leaned in and closed the gap.

For a moment, there was only silence. Jamie focused on breathing in time with the slow movements of Tia's shoulders and felt instant relief. It was like a knot in her stomach had unfurled.

Alex stood watching at the end of the bed with a strange look on his face. Then, he pressed the knuckles of his fist over the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath in.

"I'm sorry to both of you." He started again. "I know I've been unfair to you Jamie, and to you Tiana."

From the corner of her eye, Jamie could see a glint in Tia's eyes of unshed tears as he spoke.

"I'll try to be less of a-"

"Dick?" Tia helpfully supplied, a trace of a grin dancing in her voice.

Alex chuckled, low and soft. "Yeah, that."

Even Jamie smiled softly, closing her eyes. The material of Tia's winter coat was rough against her cheek and smelled distinctly of tobacco. She breathed it in deeply. Her mind felt weak and fuzzy, but it was better than nothing.

—————

Jamie did not want to see Dr. Theo. After the events of last night, and being pulled from her fugue state so abruptly, she felt exhausted to her core. The thought of sitting in a room with the good Doctor for an hour made her nauseous but Tia insisted.

"First off, he needs to see you're alright, Jamie." Tia began after Jamie had protested. "Second, you need to talk to someone who can help you so that that doesn't happen again." She continued.

He's the one who CAUSED “that”. Jamie wanted to argue, but Tia was wearing her no nonsense face so she refrained.

"Third, I need to feel like I'm doing something right as your guardian- please don't fight me on this."

So, with a resigned sigh, Jamie walked herself in.

"Good morning, Jamie." Dr. Theo greeted warmly. Jamie mumbled a neutral "morning" in response, then found her chair.

She half-expected Dr. Theo to make a fuss over her walking and speaking like Tia and Alex had but he acted as if he didn't even notice a change at all, and something in Jamie's chest calmed.

"How are we doing this morning?" He asked politely, sounding almost uninterested as he typed away on his keyboard.

"Alright, I suppose." Jamie replied, instinctively bringing her hand to her mouth to bite at her ugly nails.

Dr. Theo made a sound of acknowledgement, then, pushed away from his desk to give her his full attention.

Jamie's face heated under the scrutiny, and on instinct she found herself looking for Dr. Theo's desk calendar, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did..." the question trailed off her lips before she could stop it. Dr. Theo waited expectantly for her to finish, but it felt dumb to ask so she closed her mouth instead.

"Where did what?" He asked genuinely.

Jamie simply shook her head. It was clear that he'd taken it down because of her and she didn't want to consider why. Still, even as she pushed it down, a guilty feeling gnawed at her stomach.

"I'm sorry for... before." Jamie admitted, changing the subject completely.

Apologizing was easier than talking about other things.

"For reacting to my probing?" Dr. Theo clarified. "You don't have anything to apologize over for that."

Dr. Theo had this firm way of speaking sometimes that said 'I'm right and you can't convince me otherwise'. This was one of those times so despite the reluctance building in her, Jamie nodded and let it go.

She'd been a burden to Tia for going on two weeks now, using up her sick days and vacation. Even though the increased sessions with Dr. Theo hadn't cost her any money, they'd taken up lots of her time as she drove Jamie back and forth to them. Now that Jamie was functioning again, she could be trusted home alone. Jamie's only goal today was to make sure Dr. Theo felt comfortable bringing her back down to one session a week, so she needed to behave.

"Have you done any journaling recently?" Dr. Theo asked unexpectedly, snapping Jamie from her thoughts. He hadn't asked about her journaling in over a month.

Fuck you, her usual response sat on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it back.

Behave, Jamie.

Instead of answering, Jamie reached into the small reusable grocery bag she always brought, and pulled out her journal.

She hadn't added anything to it since the night before she'd lost all control of her physical and mental faculties, but each entry was dated, so Dr. Theo would be able to tell that himself.

Hesitantly, she held it out and let him take it from her grasp.

"You brought it with you?" Dr. Theo murmured in surprise.

"I bring it every time." She responded quietly, as if it was a known fact.

Dr. Theo had been the one to get her the damn thing to begin with. Sure, she didn't always appreciate his 'wisdom' but she took him seriously, for the quack he is. When he told her to use it, she took his instruction to heart, no matter how maliciously she complied with it.

Dr. Theo turned the plain orange book over in his hands before asking "may I parse through it?"

Mouth occupied by her fingers, she gave him a half-hearted shrug, then looked away. Without the calendar there to distract her, she had nothing else to really look at while Dr. Theo flipped through her pages. It felt awkward to watch him, so she settled on reading over the titles on his neatly organized bookshelf instead. By the time he was satisfied, she'd read over each one twice.

"Your last entry was the 8th." Dr. Theo said. "But for the most part you've kept up with it pretty consistently. I must admit, I am impressed."

Jamie's face warmed again, flushing with embarrassment. "You told me to do it." She reminded him.

"I suggested it, but that doesn't mean you have to listen."

Jamie felt foolish for not considering that could be an option. She supposed there were a number of suggestions she'd ignored from him in the past but the journal had been a gift. Somehow, that changed things.

Didn't it?

"Some of the things you've written in here are almost poetic, you know?" Dr. Theo said thoughtfully, thumbing back through the pages. "Have you ever considered joining a writer's group?"

The casual question sent a cascade of chills like a bucket of ice water down Jamie's back.

No one wants me there. She thought automatically.

"Don't think I'd be good at that." She said instead.

Dr. Theo shrugged, then held the book back out for Jamie to grab. It was opened to a page she'd written ages ago- a rambling stream of consciousness she couldn't even remember jotting down.

3. Sensations.

I smell smoke where there is none. It clings to my mattress and in my hair. Do you remember when we'd sit on the porch swing together? You had an ashtray on the ledge that I called your pretty bowl, until the mound of crushed cigarette butts buried it. You never cleaned it off. Is that why you started smoking in bed? Tia rarely smokes here but my nose doesn't know that. Some days I taste smoke where there is none and reach out for you on the other side of the mattress and you aren't there. When Tia smokes, I open the window and let it curl in and linger and pretend it's one more morning with you.

"I think you might be, but it isn't a requirement either way." Dr. Theo pulled a pamphlet from his desk drawer and held it out for her to take. "Consider it, at least."

The rest of the session dragged on rather quietly. They talked a bit about what Jamie remembered from the days that had passed, which was nothing at all. Dr. Theo told her how with the proper medication and support, she may have recovered faster. He expressed a deep concern for her wellbeing and said that if she slipped into that state again, he'd strongly recommend an inpatient stay. Which, to Dr. Theo's professionally masked surprise, Jamie agreed to. He explained the benefits to entering voluntarily including having more control over your own release. Then, to cap it off, Dr. Theo asked Jamie if they could go over some grounding techniques that she could use for herself at home.

The drive home was eerily silent. Biting at her thumb nail, Jamie flipped through the cheaply made pamphlet she'd been given with her other hand.

For a writer's workshop, the brochure was less than impressive. The font decorating the front of it was headache inducing at best, and the text itself was squished around low-resolution stock images like an afterthought.

Express Yourself Writer's Workshops.

When: 6-8pm every Thursday

Where: located in the basement of the First in Faith Presbyterian Church

Who: this year-round workshop is intended to give survivors of domestic abuse an outlet to reclaim their voices. Led by trauma-informed creative writing instructor, Leslee Dunlop. All are welcome to join or observe.

East Holloway's Victim Services is a proud sponsor of the Express Yourself writer's workshop.

Jamie couldn't take the idea of joining seriously. With this pamphlet, it was like Dr. Theo wanted Jamie to criticize it. After giving it far more thought than it deserved she shoved the brochure out of her mind and into her bag.

Tia waited until they'd pulled into their driveway to ask her how the session had gone. Jamie wasn't sure but she said "it went good" anyway.

I mean, I didn't lose my shit.

Tia gave a half-smile that was all cheek. "So, what holiday is he matching his socks to today?" She asked wryly.

Jamie felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She knew she was about to disappoint Tia, and she hated doing that.

"Actually, he hid the calendar." Jamie admitted. She forced a chuckle. "Think I was too harsh on him about it or something."

She waited for Tia's smile to drop but instead she widened her grin and shook her head. "That's so lame, Dr. Theo! Man, I bet he keeps it in his top drawer and peeks at it like all day."

Air whooshed out of Jamie like a popped balloon, turning into a real laugh. "Yeah, probably." She smiled.

As she spoke, Tia flicked out her cell in its bright pink phone case. She swiped for a few before cackling loudly and flipping the screen for Jamie to see.

January 27th, World Breast Pumping Day.

"Oh my God, he wasn't celebrating this one?" Tia gasped in feigned offense before bursting into another round of laughter.

Jamie wrinkled her nose and shook her head, a smirk on her lips. "I think celebrating this one with his patients might get him put on some sort of watch list."

Tia and Jamie laughed harder than they had in a while at that, joking back and forth about other watch lists he'd probably be on. Jamie said "baldest head" to which Tia responded "tightest ass" while wriggling her eyebrows. That made Jamie jump out of the car and storm inside complaining loudly for her aunt to please not sexualize her THERAPIST.

"Well, if you need to talk to someone about how this has traumatized you, we could always give Dr. Theo another ring?" She continued gleefully.

Jamie groaned in faux-horror and slumped onto the couch next to Alex who glanced up from his phone to give a do I want to know? look. Sparing him, Jamie pressed her lips together tightly, lips turned up in a suppressed smile and shook her head. Jamie decided that they'd come to an easy truce last night and it felt as if Alex had too. Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"Hey, I'm just saying if you're gonna go, you should get your money's worth!" Tia exclaimed and Jamie pulled a throw pillow over her face. "Or the government's money's worth or something."

"Tia, I have to see that man every week. Can we NOT talk about him like this?" She begged lightheartedly, muffled by the cushion.

"You know, I'm a sucker for a man in argyle socks." Tia sang from the other room.

Alex cleared his throat uncomfortably and Jamie squeezed the pillow a little tighter, shoulders shaking with laughter. "You are a menace to society, T." He called out to her.

Tia's cackle filled the room and Jamie thought if she could just bottle that sound, she'd never feel sad again.

Chapter Text

Dr. Theo was an evil manipulative man. Jamie decided that the moment he brought up the writer's group again during their Thursday session. The days between had been blissfully dull, full of half-done chores and reality TV while Tia worked. The moment Jamie woke up on Thursday, the calm washed away and somehow, she knew the other shoe was about to drop.

And here it was, dropping, crushing Jamie beneath it.

"I've emailed Tia the information in case you lost that pamphlet I'd given you."' Dr. Theo said, careful to mask the devil horns that surely should've been protruding from his skull. 

Jamie glared, realizing immediately what his casual words meant. Tia was an unstoppable force of nature. Once she got hold of an idea, she wouldn't be shaken from it and now, Dr. Theo had planted the worst idea of all.

For the past several months, Jamie and Dr. Theo had talked time and again about Jamie's social life- more specifically, her complete lack of it. Impaired by anxiety and agoraphobia, she'd evaded any gatherings for this long. The writer's workshop pamphlet wasn't the first she'd discreetly crumpled and tossed away, but this was the first time Dr. Theo had been so bold as to involve Tia directly in his plan. Surely that meant something, but Jamie wasn't sure what.

"Don't you think maybe I'm not stable enough for that yet?" She protested, hoping to appeal to whatever rationality he may have. "I literally just had that... spazz attack or whatever. For no reason. And now we're gonna like, introduce a bunch of stress? Are you like trying to get me committed?"

To her dismay, Dr. Theo simply chuckled. 

"Not all stress is bad for you, and I don't want you to avoid life in fear that something you may come across one day might be a trigger. You can anticipate and evade as much as you'd like, but isolation can't protect you from everything, Jamie. I believe the experience will be more good than bad. Maybe you'll have fun- maybe even learn something." Dr. Theo delivered the speech like he'd prepared for it.

"Plus, I happen to know the coordinator, Leslee, personally. She's an incredibly strong and witty woman, and she runs a tight ship there. I think you'll get along well." With his grand speech concluded, Dr. Theo sat back and observed Jamie's reaction somewhat smugly for a doctor.

Jamie rolled her eyes.

"Good one, Doc. What, you're rehearsing these now?" She said bitterly but with less of a bite than she usually had. Dr. Theo still hadn't put his desk calendar back out and somehow, seeing that she'd affected him like that made her want to be a little less sharp. She thought the calendar was stupid, sure, but that didn't mean he had to change.

"You'd be surprised how often I have the same conversations with my clients." He replied, an edge of humour creeping into his voice.

After her session, it finally set in that Jamie would have to let Tia (Dr. Theo) win. The moment Jamie stepped out from Dr. Theo's clinic, Tia ambushed her with a hug and a voice full of excitement. She bubbled the whole way home about what a great experience it would be for Jamie, and how happy she was for her, her enthusiasm almost nauseating. Jamie kept her lips locked the whole drive.

—————

"Tonight? We're going tonight?" Jamie asked incredulously.

Jamie's dinner sat mostly untouched on her plate when she returned it to the kitchen. Tia didn't even seem to notice, too focused on making sure Jamie would be ready for the writer's group.

"Of course! Do you need pens? You should bring a few. And your notebook- where is it?" Her frantic energy did nothing to quell the growing anxiety in Jamie, whose fingertips started to tingle. By the time they arrived at the church, she'd gnawed nearly to her nailbeds.

"Don't bite your nails in there, it makes you seem anxious." Tia said solemnly.

"I am anxious." Jamie muttered, slipping her hand from her mouth.

"Well you shouldn't be! You're going to do great!" Tia beamed. 

Jamie faced away from her as she rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the edge that crept into her voice. "You've never even read my stuff."

It wasn't a fair jab- Jamie had never let her try, but Tia didn't take it personally. "Well, maybe now you'll let me." She replied softer.

Jamie didn't know how to respond so she simply said nothing at all.

A light breeze blew snow drifts across the sparse parking lot, dusting the five other vehicles that were there. Jamie thought that five was a good number of people for there to be. Enough that she could sit back and observe quietly, but not so many that she'd be overwhelmed. She supposed others could've carpooled or been dropped off like she was, so maybe it was more like ten. Ten would be fine too. Ten means that she probably wouldn't even be noticed. Ten was manageable. 

Trying to estimate the number of attendants was a great distraction for Jamie as Tia pulled her out of the car and forced her journal into her hands.

"I'll be here as soon as it's over." Tia reassured her, brushing fuzz off her coat. Jamie nodded numbly, trying desperately to ignore the voices in her head that screamed at her to leave with Tia.

Sensing Jamie's unease, Tia let out a soft sigh. "You're doing this, you know. And it will be good for you."

Then, Tia jerked the car door open again and leaned across the backseat, pulling out a small black box.

"I know you said you didn't want one... It's nothing fancy but it's important to me that I can reach you, so take it and don't argue! It only has my number, Alex's and Dr. Theo's right now, but who knows? Maybe you'll make a friend here too." Tia said, her voice filled with hope as she opened the box, revealing Jamie's first cellphone.

The sight of it made Jamie choke up. It was so shiny and new, already tucked into a pale pink case. 

"Tia, I told you, it's too much! I can't accept this." She protested but Tia waved her off.

"Ah ah ah. Too late, bought and done! Take it." Tia insisted, holding the box out to her. Jamie grabbed it hesitantly, surprised at the thing's weight. She pressed the buttons on the side until it turned on, then swiped the screen to unlock it.

"We'll set it up later, but it's the same as my phone so you shouldn't have trouble making calls."

Tia's arms wound around Jamie, and for the umpteenth time, she felt overwhelmed with guilt and gratitude for this selfless woman. "Thank you, Tia." She mumbled weakly. "For everything."

Tia squeezed her sides, then broke away, a grin on her face. "Think Dr. Theo's in there? I can walk you in if you'd like."

And just like that, a weight lifted and Jamie was laughing. She tucked the phone into her coat pocket carefully and shook her head at her aunt's inappropriate implications. "No, thanks. You can keep your weird thoughts to yourself."

"Fine, but if he needs someone to write him a love poem, call me!"

Tia snickered as she got back into her car, leaving Jamie groaning and trudging to the church alone. Somehow, Tia made everything a bit more bearable. Jamie could do this for her.

When Jamie walked in the front entrance, she could hardly make out the pews lining the unlit chapel directly ahead. To her left was a cubby of sorts, where a few jackets hung. The only lights in the place shone above her and to her right, down a set of stairs that presumably led to the basement where the event was being held. 

From the top step, she could hear soft murmurs below- even laughter. She considered keeping her coat on but then decided she'd be too warm under the extra layer and hung it next to everyone else's.

On light feet, Jamie rounded the corner and was immediately overwhelmed by the sight before her. There were so many people standing in clumps around the small room. She hesitated to move from the bottom step, mind racing as she counted all of the unfamiliar faces. She'd hardly given anyone more than a glance as she added them up.

12 heads.

That made her, unlucky number 13. She could feel her pulse thrumming in her veins. Nobody had noticed her yet, she could still turn around and slink out. It would be like she was never here- except Tia would be disappointed. She took another hesitant step in.

Focus. Find a spot to stand. Find a-

Jamie's heart stuttered as she locked her eyes on one man's back from across the room. He stood with another guy and a girl, picking crumbs off of an empty tray. A thick leather jacket clung tightly around his shoulders like a second skin. It was worn and faded in all the joints, and Jamie could almost feel the weight of it around her. His hair was dark, and straight, and just long enough to be able to hide her fingers in. For a moment, she thought she might be hallucinating. Then, the man turned his head and her heart plummeted. 

Where Weston's cheeks were high and narrow, this man's face was broad. His chin was scruffy and unshaven, not in a stylish way but like he'd forgotten to care for a few days. Weston's eyes had been a mesmerizing green, but like everything else on this man, his eyes were dark. Now that she was really looking, he was also much taller than Weston had been.

Was. Had been.

Each comparison in past tense made her stomach turn. She wondered about Weston sometimes, how he was doing now that he moved away from her. Getting far away from Jamie's mess was probably the smartest thing he'd ever done. 

Absent-mindedly, Jamie thought that someone would need a crowbar to pry her fingers from around her journal with how tightly she gripped it.

Wrenching her eyes away, Jamie managed to find a spot to sit in the circle of hard, plastic chairs that centered the room. Most people were still standing up chatting at the tables that lined the walls, picking snacks off of the trays set out there. A few quiet individuals sat spread amongst the chairs, staring intently at their cellphones. One girl with highlighter yellow hair doodled intricate designs in pen on her left hand. Jamie tried not to look too long in any one direction- especially not towards that leather jacket at the back of the room.

Internally, she cursed Dr. Theo for encouraging her to come here. Hadn't she been doing well enough as it was? Part of her felt... alive though. Awakened. Being around all of these other people broke her out of a bubble she hadn't realized she'd been in. Suddenly, as she observed all of the strangers just existing around her, the world felt a little bigger. It was comforting in a way. And terrifying.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" Someone asked timidly to her left. Jamie glanced up at the lanky girl with glasses and curly brown hair, as she waited hesitantly to take a seat beside her. 

Jamie gave a curt, distracted nod and the girl's face relaxed in relief. "I'm Emma." She mumbled softly twisting her hands together.

"Jamie." Jamie replied, her heart racing from the mutual anxiety that permeated the air.

Emma was kind of ugly in a subtle way, like each of her features had its own little thing off or wrong. Her nose was too big, her eyes were too close together, her brows were uneven. The girl's cheeks turned pink and Jamie realized she was staring. She quickly looked away, but in the back of her skull, it was as if she'd spun a wheel of insults and was waiting to see which one it would land on.

Mustache, acne, thin upper lip, big feet.

Jamie's lips pressed together in a tight line.

She wanted to think of something nice about the girl instead. It seemed like she took care of her curls, probably using the proper shampoo and taking the time to separate her coils instead of running a brush through them like Jamie did. Her glasses were pretty- a light green that complimented her hair and skin.

She tried to flash the girl- Emma- a friendly smile, then faced forward again. For some reason, she couldn't look her in the eyes anymore. Jamie was so glad mindreaders weren't a real thing.

It was one thing to show up here, but being acknowledged felt wrong. Jamie found that she hated how fast she'd tuned into picking an innocent person apart. She didn't get much exposure to other people like this so she understood why, but hadn't she considered that someone might speak to her? Embarrassingly, she realized she really hadn't.

Breathe idiot. You're gonna make yourself pass out.

"I was nervous my first time here too." Emma said softly. "You don't have to talk or anything though. Leslee's really cool for that."

With Emma's kind reassurances, Jamie's shoulders dropped from her neck and she found it a little easier to deepen her breaths. "Thank you." Jamie mustered, choking with sincerity.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Emma's beaming smile and it reminded her of Tia. Tia, who she could call to pick her up at any moment because she had a cellphone now. Jamie's fingers loosened from around her notebook as she took another deep breath. Then she tucked the book beneath her thigh and gripped the edges of her seat instead.

More people started to take their seats. The group was mostly women, ages appearing to range broadly between late teens and retirees. Jamie mistakenly assumed one short woman with a sleek bob of silver hair and a confident posture would be leading the group. Jamie had been watching her somewhat expectantly since she'd sat down, but it was a perky, tall blonde woman who stood at her seat and clapped her hands for everyone's attention. 

The remaining outliers took their seats. Jamie tried not to notice as leather jacket took a seat directly across from her with his two friends, but her face warmed as she felt his eyes glance over her. She couldn't stop herself from chewing as her fingers found her mouth. At least it gave her something else to do.

God, I hope he's not staring. 

"Welcome everyone," Leslee chirped and all murmurs fell silent. It felt good to have someone else to focus on, who wanted the attention. Leslee's eyes swept carefully over each face, smiling warmly. She was around Tia's age by the looks of her, which seemed surprisingly young to be leading this workshop in Jamie's opinion. The way Dr. Theo had spoken made her seem so experienced and wise. 

I shouldn't be so quick to judge.

"For our newcomers, I want to say how glad I am that you're joining us. It can be scary to try something new, and if the cookies aren't enough to convince you to come back," she paused as a few people giggled. "Than I hope that you'll hear something that resonates with you, that inspires you to keep trying until you find an expressive outlet of your own."

Leslee spoke surely, without any 'um's or 'uh's. She didn't yell but her voice projected across the space well enough that Jamie could feel the words reverberate in her chest. In a short few sentences, she'd captured everyone's attention and respect.

She was easy to look at too. Jamie couldn't find a single thing wrong with her so far.

"We're going to start with 30 minutes of readings. Anyone who is interested in sharing a short piece may raise their hand. It can be based on last week's prompt or something completely your own. I will share one piece from the read-me bin for those who want to be heard but would prefer to stay anonymous. Then, I'll give you a prompt that you can use for next week's meeting and you can discuss in groups or write on your own until 8. Sounds good?" Leslee looked around as participants bobbed their heads and gave quiet murmurs of assent.

She smiled, a brilliant flash of white teeth before continuing. "Before we begin, please note that some of the content we share may be deeply personal. The purpose of this workshop is to give you, as survivors of domestic abuse, a safe outlet to express yourselves. That said, the readings we share may include some triggering elements." Leslee's solemn words felt like a wet blanket over Jamie's face, heavy and hard to breathe through. As she spoke, Leslee took slow, careful steps around the inside of the circle of chairs, facing each person at some point. Now, she stood in front of Jamie, and she looked even fiercer up close. Her blue eyes danced across Jamie's face before flickering past.

"If at any point you need a moment to collect yourself, bathrooms are located at our back left as is the emergency exit. If you have a piece that contains potentially triggering content, please give disclaimers in advance when you can. Sharing is encouraged but not mandatory. When someone is sharing, I ask that we give them our full respect and attention. If you'd like feedback on your writing, you may open the floor afterwards. When giving feedback, I highly recommend sharing one example of something you liked, followed by one example of something they can improve on. I think that's it for me, any volunteers?"

Hesitant hands began to rise as Leslee took her seat. The sight made her grin and she gestured to her right at the short, thin boy who'd stood in the back of the room with Mr. leather jacket. He nodded nervously, then rose to his feet. He was around Jamie's height, with mousy brown hair and hollows under his eyes. A thick, grey wool sweater swallowed his torso and arms, and in his hands, he held a simple black notebook. He didn't appear any older than 18, with a scattering of wispy facial hair across his upper lip and chin. As he flipped to a page in his journal, his hands shook and Jamie felt a pulse of disgust. 

Maybe he's a woman. A voice snarled cruelly in her mind. He flipped to another page, nearly fumbling his journal and Jamie's bitterness quickly morphed into pity.

Maybe I am the world's biggest douchebag.

"Thanks Leslee," he said softly to her before staring back down at his journal. "I'm uh, Sebastian. And I have a thing to share. It could be triggering maybe, so uh, sorry."

It reminded Jamie a bit of high school, the way they sat around to listen to one another read their writings. Except Jamie was an awful person in high school who would've snickered at Sebastian's struggle and mocked his shaky voice until he cried. In fact, she was certain she'd done just that to another kid at one point, destroying his already shriveled self-esteem with biting remarks until he left the room in tears. Watching Sebastian gathering his courage now, a barrage of insults and quips flooded her brain.

He'd be so easy to pick apart.

The thought made her sick.

"If you thought you could change me by rearranging my face, you started with the wrong features." Sebastian began, sounding smoother as he read. "I felt the hatred in your fists. Did you feel my love?"

He took a centering breath and Jamie felt that rolling wave of nausea hit again. 

He's so fragile. I don't deserve to be here now.

"If I could have killed you, I wouldn't have. Call it stupidity. Call it mercy. I'll never call you again."

In Jamie's peripherals, someone stood quietly and made their way to the exit. Sebastian noticed too as he looked up, then sat hurriedly down. 

"Done." He mumbled shoving his notebook under his thigh like Jamie had, his cheeks red.

"Well done, Sebastian." Leslee offered warmly. "Thank you."

Leather jacket began to clap, and for a brief moment, everyone except Sebastian joined. Then, hands started to raise.

"Stephanie." Leslee selected and the girl with highlighter yellow hair smiled. 

Stephanie remained seated as she began. "I'm Steph and I'll be reading a piece based on last week's prompt."

Steph was more confident than Sebastian, her voice carrying clearly across the group. "My greatest memory is of a little girl in a puffy white dress. She clutched her teddy bear and spun carefree in her living room to the end credits of a movie she'd hardly watched. Her mommy watched her with a smile on her face though her eyes brimmed with tears."

"She twirled until the world blurred around her, and she felt nothing but happy and safe. She didn't recognize that the gown she'd donned was her flower girl dress. She didn't realize why her mommy had let her wear it so freely. She didn't know anything except that there was music on the TV and when we hear music, we dance. I cherish that little girl dearly. I'll dance with her again one day."

Jamie could see the tears welling in Stephanie's eyes, though her voice rang clear. She couldn't relate to either Sebastian or Steph's stories but she appreciated them just the same. 

"Anyone got feedback?" Steph asked, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. The room fell silent for a moment. Then leather jacket spoke.

"I liked that you told it from a third-person perspective. Hearing it told that way added this third dimension to it, where you can tell you don't feel connected to the memory anymore- like it happened to someone else. And I liked the detail about the flower girl dress. My interpretation is that maybe the parents were recently separated and that's why she's allowing the girl to wear it around. Anyway, really well done, Steph." His voice was deep and gruff, but sincere. His dark eyes stayed locked on Steph as he spoke. Jamie felt herself flush at his intensity, and she wasn't the only one. Steph ducked her head, nodding appreciatively at his kind words. 

"That's a great example on how to give positive feedback, Mason. Thank you." Leslee beamed. Leather jacket guy- Mason- gave a curt nod before relaxing back against his seat.

"I loved how carefree the girl was described to be. You didn't specify her age, but you paint a vivid picture with those context clues that make it easy to visualize." Leslee continued. "If you're looking to improve in any area, I would recommend expanding on those sensory details to really lock us in. Great job, Stephanie." 

People clapped in their seats. Someone else began to recite a piece, but Jamie's mind drifted away. 

Mason. Weston. Mason. Weston.

The two could have been related. Not brothers, but cousins maybe with their physical similarities. Jamie tried to pay attention to the next speaker but their words droned on incomprehensibly in her ears. She was a snapped kitestring. If she weren't careful, she'd float away. Jamie stared at Mason's black boots and rehearsed Dr. Theo's grounding techniques in her head.

Five things I see. The scuffed rubber floor, Sebastian's kitten gray sweater. A neon orange traffic cone by the exit. An empty chair with a jacket draped over it. The crease between Mason's girlfriend's eyes as she stares across the room at me. 

Jamie missed another round of generous applause. When she looked up, a girl with full round cheeks and heavy eyeliner glared hard at her before sliding her notebook under her seat. Jamie hadn't heard a word she'd said but clearly the girl had been insulted by her blatant inattention.

Fucking bitch. Fuck. Sorry.

Jamie didn't realize she was standing until the entire room had fallen silent in anticipation. Horrified at the sudden attention, Jamie froze in place. Everything in her tensed and for a moment, she felt like she might actually piss herself.

No, fuck. No. No. No.

Jamie's eyes locked with Leslee who seemed to catch on, and thankfully began to speak, pulling the attention away long enough for Jamie to propel herself across the room to the emergency exit.

Chapter Text

The air outside was bitter cold with a jacket, and downright painful without. The air stung every inch of Jamie's exposed skin. In an instant, her body began to tremble, from her toes to her teeth. It made her gut spasm, a familiar ache that almost gave her comfort in this strange new place. No, Jamie hadn't exactly thought out her actions when she'd fled, but she knew she'd have to go back soon unless she wanted to risk some serious frostbite. 

The thought of returning pitted her stomach but what was the alternative? Snowflakes melted as they touched down on her bare skin, nipping her cheeks and hands. She needed to walk around to the front, grab her jacket and call Tia, she decided as she stared across the dark, snow-covered lot. Tia would come and get her.

Jamie's escape plans were interrupted by the sound of the door behind her whooshing open again.

"Hey," a soft voice called out. One she'd heard before. Jamie risked a glance over her shoulder and found Sebastian standing in his plush sweater, a black leather jacket dangling from one outstretched hand.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, swallowing the spill of light it had momentarily cast into the snow.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." 

In the darkness, Jamie could hardly make out the details of his face, but his voice rang with gentle sincerity. It made Jamie's traitorous stomach roil. "Didn't." She replied, teeth clicking shut a little too hard from the cold.

"Oh," he said awkwardly. "Well, uh it's cold out here." Sebastian's shadowed silhouette shifted a little in place, the jacket swinging in his grip before he thrust it out to her. "Here, you should wear this."

Jamie blinked at the boy incredulously, arms aching from the frigid air. "That's-"

"Mason told me to bring it to you." Sebastian cut in, shaking it in his fist, words edged in finality.

Jamie reached out stiffly, grabbing the hulking thing by the collar, then slid it on. It was still warm inside, like putting on clothes fresh from the dryer. The smell of allspice and an undercurrent of sweat emanated from the jacket, gentle but masculine. It was foreignly intimate, to be wrapped in someone else's scent like that. She shivered again, this time not from the cold.

An awkward silence fell over them as they stood in the dark, unmoving. The shadow of Sebastian shuddered and wrapped its arms around itself. 

"So uh, you have a name?" Sebastian's tone was light and jovial, like they were just good friends making conversation.

For some reason, it rubbed Jamie the wrong way.

"No." She snapped in a voice she hardly recognized. 

Like some cosmic karma for her unnecessary bitchiness, her guts squeezed painfully, forcing a grunt to her lips that made her sound even more rude.

"Sorry, that was mean." Jamie mumbled quickly. "I'm just..."

A bitch? Annoyed? A nobody? In pain? A coward?

A hundred ends to that sentence came to mind. She cleared them from her throat and shoved her hands in her pockets. "Name's Jamie. Sorry." 

Sebastian's reply came through chattering teeth. "S'all good. Kinda stressful for first-timers. You coming back in?" 

Jamie shook her head, hands clenching into fists in the soft fabric of her jacket's pockets. No- not her jacket. Mason's jacket.

She yanked her hands back out, feeling invasive. Like some sort of pest intruding in a habitat she didn't belong.

"You can go back, I'm just gonna... I'm just getting my own jacket from the front and I'm gonna leave."

Sebastian nodded, but didn't turn away, leaving them back at another awkward standstill. The whole interaction felt weird. Jamie ran her thumb across the edges of her jagged nails and fought the urge to raise her hand to her lips. 

She wasn't used to just talking with people, she only knew how to egg them on or fight them off, but she didn't want to do that here. What was the point? Sebastian had already laid his cards out, showing his most vulnerable side back in the church's basement. He was low hanging fruit. Using anything he said against him would be like telling a kindergartener Santa Claus isn't real, and Jamie had grown out of that phase a decade ago. He wasn't challenging her and there wasn't even anyone around to see if he did. The thought of fighting him, verbally or physically, didn't thrill her like it once might have. Honestly, the only person she had any desire to lash out at anymore in general was Dr. Theo- but even that could be fleeting lately. Jamie was such a pussy now, but she also couldn't find the nerve to care.

"I'll walk around with you?" Sebastian finally said, raising the end of his statement like a question. The sudden interruption in her thoughts broke Jamie's locked limbs free and she turned wordlessly towards the front of the building, raising her hand to her mouth to bite her nails.

Sebastian trailed her, his footsteps crunching loudly in the snow. His teeth still chattered audibly behind her and Jamie had an urge to give him Mason's jacket. But the smell of it was weirdly comforting and the warmth had stopped her clenching stomach and she didn't really want to give it up yet.

"So, you new in town or something?" Sebastian asked casually, finally matching her stride.

Jamie grunted, then managed a "or something" as they rounded the corner of the building. Part of her wished Tia had stayed, even though her guilty conscience hated taking up her time. But as Jamie scanned the front lot, their car was nowhere to be found so she kept trudging along.

"Really? I-" Sebastian must've stumbled, the sound of shuffling, an off-beat crunch and a soft swear made Jamie hesitate a step but not turn back. "Fuck, sorry. Uh, I was gonna say I've never seen you before. Like in school or like... out and about." Sebastian continued, his footsteps evening out.

"Didn't have the best attendance record." Jamie shrugged. "Don't get out much."

It was true. She'd nearly had to retake two different grade levels because of it, and only skirted by because no teacher wanted her back in their classroom twice. There was only one high school within an hour's drive, and that was East Holloway High so chances were they'd both been to the same one. Just not at the same time. 

Jamie showed up when she wanted- just enough to keep the guidance counselor off her ass. Once she was 16 though and her relationship with Weston turned serious, she'd dropped out completely and hadn't ever looked back.

"You don't like to talk much, huh?"

They had finally made it to the front doors and Jamie yanked one open as fast as possible. When they entered the building, she risked a glance at Sebastian, whose face and hands were bright red from the cold.

Immediately, he walked over to an old radiator heater by the coats and placed his hands right over it. "Oh thank God, that was freezing." He sighed, his chattering slowly stopping. 

Jamie ignored him, focused on forcing her numb fingers into the pocket of her jacket.

"It's too bad you won't stay," Sebastian sighed, flipping his hands so the backs of them could warm up. "I think you and Mason and Katie would really hit it off."

Mason's girlfriend has a name. Great. 

"You don't fucking know me." Jamie snapped, giving Sebastian a glare.

Her sudden hostility seemed to surprise him, his eyes widening slightly, but to Jamie's disappointment, he didn't run away.

"Touchy," he muttered, sounding much more brave than he had during his share. Maybe the nervousness had been a pretense. An act to lure someone into a false sense of security. He looked Jamie up and down as she fumbled to turn her phone on and huffed a small laugh. "You're right, I don't know you, but I have a pretty good vibe-detector." He said lightheartedly.

Really, so what vibes did your abusive boyfriend give off before he decked you the first time?

Jamie bit her tongue, literally. Then, glared angrily at her uncooperative cellphone. 

"What the fuck, why won't it turn on?" She bit out. 

Sebastian gave her a look and raised a brow. 

"Did you let it die or something?" He asked politely, then pressed one warmed hand to the side of his face.

Jamie breathed in deeply through her nose, then forced the breath through her lips. Fucking Tia would absolutely forget to charge her new phone before giving it to her, wouldn't she?

Among the coats sat a single plastic chair, probably left there for all the old churchy people to have a place to sit to change their shoes. Jamie yanked it from its spot and sank down onto it, clutching her dead phone, feeling utterly defeated.

Sebastian switched hands on his cheeks and the heater and studied Jamie.

"I'll leave you alone now, but just-" his eyes roamed over her from her scalp to the tips of her boots. "Maybe think about coming back sometime, yeah?"

He didn't wait for her to answer- not that Jamie had intended to anyway.

It wasn't until he'd disappeared down the stairs that she realized she was still wearing the leather jacket. 

"Fuck," she muttered again. Setting her stupid, useless phone on the ground, she pulled the jacket off as quickly as she could and then shrugged her own on.

Her coat settled much more lightly and smelled like nothing. She tucked her phone into her own pocket again, sat back in her chair with the heavy leather jacket in her lap and sighed. 

Part of Jamie wanted to keep Mason's jacket but the impulse was idiotic. She didn't want him to think that she'd stolen it either but she couldn't go back downstairs. She'd already decided that. So, she'd wait for Tia to arrive, and leave Mason's jacket here for him on this chair.

With no way to tell time, Jamie waited impatiently, staring through the glass front doors into the pitch black parking lot. The shares downstairs continued. One girl who spoke sounded like she was reading her work through tears. Everyone applauded extra loudly at that. Jamie wanted to hear the low cadence of Mason's soft voice again, but he didn't give anymore feedback.

As another girl began to speak, Jamie's mind wandered. It was January 29th. She tried to recall what fake holidays there were today but it had been so early when she'd looked… It was something lame anyway. International board game day? Some sort of game?

By the time Leslee piped up, announcing this week's prompt, Jamie felt like she'd chewed her nails to the quicks. Quiet footsteps jotted up the stairs and Jamie couldn't help her eyes from darting over to see who'd arrive at the top.

Her back straightened, entire body tensing in shock as the gentleman of the hour, W- Mason himself appeared.

It's National Puzzle Day in the US. She suddenly remembered. Hope Dr. Theo's somewhere choking on his pieces.

Mason's dark eyes roamed over Jamie as he approached, flicking from her face to her finger in her mouth to the jacket in her lap. Without the jacket, she'd expected Mason to be lean like Weston had been, but his shoulders and chest were wide. In a tight black long-sleeve, Jamie could see the obvious lines of muscle in his arms. The jacket's bulky size was clearly a necessity more than a fashion choice.

"Hey," he murmured, his steps ending a few feet in front of her. 

Jamie yanked her hands away from her mouth, curling her fingers. She nodded by way of reply.

"I'm Mason. You're Jamie right?" Mason asked and Jamie's heart leapt into her throat. The way he said her name, it was like she was hearing it for the first time. 

How does he know that? 

Her response tasted like fear dressed up like anger. "You stalking me?" She spit. Her grip on his jacket tightened, crumpling the fabric, and Mason's naturally hooded eyes narrowed.

"You always this cagey?" He asked, and the way he deflected her question with a question reminded her so much of stupid Dr. Theo she wanted to scream.

"Yeah, I fucking am." Jamie snapped, pushing herself to her feet. She hated having to physically look up at people, but when she stood, she found she still had to anyway. The jacket in her fist suddenly felt wrong, and she thrust it towards him with a sharp "here."

Mason left it hanging in her grip for a moment before accepting it and slipping it back on.

A flash of anxiety pulsed through her as he adjusted the collar around his neck and she remembered the way his scent had been so saturated in it there. Would it smell like her now? Like her sweat? Her fear? Mason didn't say anything, so maybe it didn't.

Or maybe he's a nice guy that lends people his jacket and doesn't tell them that they smell bad.

Jamie wanted to inspect her fingers for hangnails to rip off. She shoved her hands in her pockets and squeezed her cold, dead phone instead.

"You going to come back?" Mason asked softly, leaning against the wall beside the front door now. Standing between Jamie and her exit. She exhaled a shaky breath. 

"Don't count on it." She muttered, looking over Mason's shoulder, praying for Tia's little silver beast to pull up.

Mason's lips twisted into a small smile that Jamie tried not to notice. "Where am I going to see you again, then?" 

Jamie's guts squeezed and a flare of pain settled threateningly in her lower back. 

Do not fucking piss yourself. Do not piss yourself.

I will fucking kill myself if I piss my pants right now.

"Ask your girlfriend." Jamie managed to grunt. 

Mason had the decency to pretend to be confused, but Jamie saw right through it. Or thought she did. She'd literally watched Weston play this routine before with other women, right in front of her eyes, so she knew how it looked.

"Who- Katie?" Confusion turned to amusement quickly. "Oh baby, I do not have a girlfriend," Mason said firmly, a glimmer in his eyes. Before Jamie could interject he added, "but Katie does."

Oh. Oh.

Like a pocket of air trapped beneath a sunken ship, Jamie felt the pressure of a memory wanting to surface, but completely unable. Her brain couldn't remember but something made her breath catch, like the rest of her could. 

"You're friends with fucking dykes?" Jamie snorted. Somehow, the words felt scripted. Like reading lines from someone else's book.

All traces of lightness sapped from Mason's face as it turned to stone. It was that expression again- the one Jamie hated most. The turning point when someone realized that Jamie was not some sarcastic-yet-secretly-sweet gal, but a real certified bitch.

Mason's fingers flexed then relaxed at his sides and Jamie found herself wondering dully how long it would take to get him to hit her. She couldn't look him in the eyes anymore.

The next sentences out of Jamie's mouth tumbled out quickly. Uncontrollably. "My name's fucking Jameson by the way. I'm Jamie. Not baby. Call me that again, I'll cut your dick off and shove it down your throat. Maybe you'd like that too, huh? You a fag?"

"Think you're some fag, Jamie?" 

A chill swept over her entire body as Jack's voice rang out clearly in her ear. She could feel how wide her eyes were. How stiff her entire body had gotten. She glanced up, feeling less like the predator she wanted to be and more like a deer caught in the headlights.

Mason watched her with a carefully guarded expression that felt piercing to her core. 

"Careful." He murmured. "There are few things I find intolerable, Jamie, but talk like that is definitely one."

"Good." She spit, though the reply didn't make sense. "Can't- I don't want you to be- to-" 

Fucking idiot.

She was hugging herself now, her fingers digging hard into her own biceps as she stammered. Humiliation. That's what she was feeling.

"Fuck off, okay? Just... Go away."

"No daughter of mine is a fucking dyke, do you hear me?"

Jamie's stomach clenched and she felt herself curling inwards slightly in response. Were her insides filled with rusty razor blades? Was that why it hurt so badly?

"Yeah, alright." Mason said wearily. "Weren't you leaving?" 

Jamie looked out into the parking lot. Frigid wind kicked up snow, gusts of glimmering, dancing clouds. Tia wasn't here yet but Jamie realized what Mason really meant. She'd overstayed her welcome. She should never have come here.

Mason was still between her and the entrance. Her exit.

Jamie kept her mouth closed and her eyes down as she rushed to the door and yanked it open faster than the mechanism wanted to allow. It made the door opener groan.

"Jamie, wait-" Mason said and she heard him move towards her but it was too late. 

Cold air hit her like a wall, stinging her fingers and face. It bit harshly, especially down her cheeks, where she suddenly realized, tears had begun to fall.

The snow was packed down in the lot at least besides a fine dusting that had been kicked up and scattered by the wind. She tucked her hands in her pockets, curling one around her useless cellphone and the other into a fist as she stumbled quickly in the direction Tia had come from.

"You know why God made women, right?" 

It was so quiet outside, Jamie's panting and noisy footsteps muted by the padding of snow.

Jamie didn't want to hear Jack's voice right now. She walked as fast as she could, like she could somehow outrun it. 

Was she even going the right way? She prayed that Tia would find her, that she was already en route and would see her walking down the side of the street at any moment now.

It felt like hours before the familiar silver Corolla pulled up. Jamie's face hurt, lips cracked and eyes watery. Her lungs burned- he entire chest did actually- past the point of pain. She'd shivered so violently, she was sure she'd pissed herself again, but she couldn't feel her legs. Jamie could tell that even her hair had frozen some. Including in her nose and on her lashes.

When Tia jumped out of the car, Jamie let her pull her into an embrace but left her flurry of questions unanswered, shuffling to get into the passenger's seat instead. Her teeth chattered so hard she wasn't sure she could speak without biting her tongue off.

The only thing she managed to utter was a stuttered "n-no" when Tia asked if she should bring her to the hospital.

That night, after an interrogation, thorough frost-bite examination and warm shower, Jamie sat silently in her bed. She was wearing an old beer t-shirt that reached mid-thigh with a pair of grey sweats that no one would be able to tell she was wearing a diaper in. Her bedroom door was closed, so J sat freely on her chest, absorbing the last of her soft, muted sobs. 

She'd given Tia the phone back for good, since she wouldn't be leaving anywhere again, so she had to set her alarm clock like always. 

It wasn't until she reached into her nightstand that she realized something was wrong. With her hand still on the knob, Jamie stared down into the small drawer at the empty spot there- the spot where her journal was supposed to be.

"Fuck." She gasped, choking on her own wracking sobs, feeling like a rip cord on a lawn mower being yanked over and over again. Holding J to her face kept her quiet enough that no one came to check on her. Luckily, J didn't seem to mind.

Chapter Text

"Do you have a patient named Mason?" Jamie asked. "Or Emma or Sebastian or Katie?" 

Dr. Theo gave her a look. Not one that confirmed or denied her inquiries but one that said 'this line of questioning is inappropriate, ergo I will not be dignifying it with a legitimate response.'

Stupid professionalism and patient confidentiality.

"Are those the names of some of the people who attended the workshop last Thursday?" Dr. Theo asked, ignoring her question entirely.

Jamie huffed and crossed her arms, dissatisfied with his pathetic attempt at evasiveness. She'd been waiting all week to ask him this. She needed to know.

"Nice try, Doc, I asked you first."

"Does the possibility of me being one of their therapists bother you?" The cool, even tone with which he spoke made Jamie's temper flare.

Jamie squeezed her arms a little tighter, clenching her fists in her armpits. "Well, won't it? Won't you be all biased or something if I tell you something about them but you secretly know them?" Jamie countered, annoyed.

Dr. Theo considered this, tilting his head. "Okay," he said thoughtfully. "What I'm hearing is that you're worried I may not be able to separate myself from my personal feelings about another client during our discussions, which could compromise the quality of our discussion as it pertains to them. Does that sound accurate?" 

Jamie rolled her eyes at the formal therap-ese he doled out. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I get you can't tell me outright but how about I just say their names and you tell me if it's familiar, huh? Mason, Emma, Seba- wait Emma?"

Jamie narrowed her eyes at the deep sigh Dr. Theo gave over Emma's name.

"First, Jamie I hope you know that I would never break patient confidentiality like that or engage in any behaviours that could put my license at risk." Dr. Theo said solemnly. 

Waving a hand, Jamie leaned back in her seat. "Sure Doc- hey, listen. If you lose your license over it, I'll set you up in front of whatever claw machine you pulled it out of with the biggest stack of quarters you've ever seen."

"Jamie-" Equal parts amusement and exasperation seeped into Dr. Theo's voice. 

"C'mon, you can't tell me this one thing?" She pleaded, only half-serious. Dr. Theo pressed his lips together, then he turned to his computer to type down a few notes.

Jamie hated when he did that. She frowned as his fingers danced over the keys, much faster than Jamie could. She'd taken a typing class in elementary, but after that, had very little practice. It meant less money for her since it took her longer to write out her captions, but she didn't mind so much.

"What are you writing?" She grumbled, crossing her arms again and leaning in.

Dr. Theo hummed in acknowledgement of her question, typed a few more keystrokes, then turned his attention back on Jamie.

"I'm writing that your lack of trust in my capacity as your therapist is a topic we should explore in a future session. I'm making a note to myself to ask Leslee about how the session went," he glanced at Jamie like he wanted to catch her reaction to that, but she kept her expression stone-still. 

"Not because I don't believe you'll describe it adequately, but because I'd like to compare whatever your experience was to her perspective as an educated counselor. I will not be disclosing any clients' names to Leslee, only that I'm interested to know how the group has been operating as a whole and whether there's anything I can contribute resource-wise to aid in everyone's experiences there."

Jamie digested his soliloquy. 

"Clients? So you do have multiple patients attending."  

Dr. Theo shook his head, almost chuckling.

"Would you like to discuss how the meeting went? Were there only those four others in attendance?"

Jamie's fingers found her lips and she tucked her index between her teeth. "No and no." She muttered, remembering the pathetic way she'd fled.

Dr. Theo nodded like he didn't care what they talked about, but Jamie knew he'd want to circle back and pick apart every minute detail of what happened.

"Would you like to talk about any of the people you'd mentioned? Other than regarding whether or not I see any of them?"

Jamie ripped at a hangnail, wincing when it came free. "Nope."

Dr. Theo nodded again, all Mr. Bobblehead-like. "Alright, well whatever you'd like to discuss, let me know." Then, he turned back to his computer again.

Fucker.

They sat like that for eight minutes, according to the clock on the wall. Jamie found herself staring into the empty space where his desk calendar should be and the lack of it made her irrationally angry. She pulled her finger out of her mouth, looked at the damage there, then moved to her middle finger. 

The hands on the clock seemed louder in the silence. Dr. Theo breathed softly, calm and steady across from her. Eventually, Jamie began to feel restless. She'd felt off ever since she realized she'd left her stupid journal behind. Part of it was that she didn't want anyone to read it. Whoever found it surely would. Jamie would if roles were reversed. The other part of it was that not being able to write in it at night had thrown off her routine.

It was like her brain couldn't rest anymore without going through Dr. Theo's stupid prompts. She'd started whispering her answers to J which helped only some. Still, she needed a better way to expel it all. The journal had always let her separate her thoughts from herself and leave them in her nightstand drawer.

"I lost my journal." Jamie admitted finally, breaking the cursed silence. It sounded like the stupidest thing in the world once she said it. There was no way to take it back though.

Dr. Theo hummed. "I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have any idea where it might be?"

On a plastic chair in a church basement. In someone's nosey hands. In the first trash bin they passed on their way home.

"Forgot it at the stupid fucking church." Jamie grumbled. "Hey, do you think I could..."

Like usual, Dr. Theo had offered Jamie a coffee or tea before they'd started. Out of habit, she'd declined, but the longer she sat, the nicer a warm drink sounded. She suddenly craved the feeling of a mug in her hands, emanating a gentle cinnamon smell. But Jamie probably wouldn't even be allowed to actually have one.

When it became clear Jamie wasn't going to continue her sentence, Dr. Theo finally stepped in. "It seems like you're being pulled in a couple of different directions right now. So far, you've asked about a topic that you know I won't answer, declined to discuss the workshop, only to mention leaving your journal there, and now, it seems as though you're quickly re-directing again."

Shit. Head of nail, meet hammer.

Jamie ran a hand through the back of her messy hair, grabbed a fistful of it and yanked lightly. "Kay. Wanna sticker?" She muttered.

Dr. Theo didn't laugh this time. Not even a little amusement appeared on his face.

"Damn, okay." Jamie exhaled, blowing air through her lips. "God, we're probably running out of sessions soon, huh? What do you think, Doc. Like a couple more months? Five? Three?"

Jamie's voice was light and teasing, but she was sort of serious too. She hadn't in a while, but suddenly she found herself mentally tallying their total. 

The subsidy she'd received had originally been valued at $40,000, but she knew Dr. Theo's rate was upwards of $250 per session. And hell, he probably charged a premium rate just to deal with her. 

At 1 visit a week for 52 weeks, that was like 13 grand for a year. Multiplied by 2 years, she'd have used at least 26 thousand up so far. But during the first year, they'd visited more like twice a week, so add another 13, and that put her at $39,000 to date. That didn't even include any of the times he recommended an extra session here and there...

Suddenly, Jamie felt nauseous.

"You're covered for up to six more months of weekly sessions with me, Jamie. If you'd like, we can continue our previous discussion of alternative options soon. As we've discussed, I do offer a sliding scale. I also do work at the hospital, in their inpatient facility and I pick up hours each month in the free clinic which is overseen by an incredibly competent group of psychologists, might I add." Dr. Theo's attempted levity went unappreciated.

"Yeah. Then I can be passed around from psych to psych again, like hot potato, right? It was really great last time, looking forward to it." Jamie laughed without humor. 

Would she come to miss this office, once it was no longer an option? Maybe she would.

"You could always reapply, you know." Dr. Theo murmured gently. "The grant is offered every year. I can get you and Tia the proper paperwork to complete an application?"

Blood rushed in her ears, amplifying the sound of her heartbeat through her skull. Jamie scoffed at Dr. Theo's pathetic excuse of a solution.

"Right," she said. "Cuz they're totally gonna give $40,000 more to the girl that couldn't get it right the first time, yeah? Don't think my case is so strong this year, Doc."

Something twisted in her guts and she straightened in her seat, preparing to stand. There was no pain, but it was only a matter of time, surely.

"I can't guarantee you'd be the recipient, the applications have to go through the hospital foundation's grants committee," Dr. Theo murmured, and it almost sounded like agreement. "It's worthwhile to try though, Jamie. It wouldn't surprise me if you are accepted again. They want to see the best outcomes for whoever they select."

"Then they definitely shouldn't pick me." 

Dr. Theo looked Jamie over, as if it were his first time seeing her today. It made her feel weirdly scrutinized. "I disagree, Jamie." He said firmly. Then, typed a few sentences on his keyboard which kind of annoyed her.

"I don't want your incestuous grant anyways." She bit out and then turned her attention to her pinkie nail.

In her peripherals, she could tell she'd caught Dr. Theo genuinely off-guard.

"Incestuous?" He prompted.

Jamie waved her unoccupied hand, then pulled her finger out to speak. "Yeah. I mean what, the hospital is gonna give out grants and then recommend its own doctors to treat the people? I never got to see a cent, just bloop- all direct deposited right into Mr. Dr. Theo's hands. It's hardly for me at that point. So, you got a girlfriend on the committee, or what?"

She expected Dr. Theo to be a little indignant at her unnecessary digs, but to her surprise, he laughed. A sharp, short sound like maybe he hadn't expected to laugh either.

"Yes, well. I suppose when you look at it that way, it is sort of incestuous." He mused, humouring her. 

Jamie knew that wasn't exactly how it worked. The nurse who'd set it up for her originally had explained that the grant had been set up by some rich woman whose husband killed himself or something, so she donated a whole pile of money to hopefully stop other people from doing it by funding the support they couldn't otherwise access. She knew the committee who picked the applicants was independent from the hospital itself and that the applications were anonymized and scored using some points system for saddest bastard or something. More than that, Jamie knew that Dr. Theo knew that she knew how it all worked, and he was being generous enough to let her feigned ignorance slide. He seemed to really be letting her off easy today, but if he'd heard what Jamie had done- how she'd spoken to Mason, he wouldn't.

Guilt made her palms sweat and her insides churn.

"Shit, we have to talk about the workshop thing now, don't we?" Jamie asked, a little panic rising in her voice. "Haha fuck."

Dr. Theo pursed his lips in fake consideration. "Do you want to talk about the workshop?"

Jamie's stomach lurched. No. No she didn't. "Yeah," she forced out. "Sure. Alright."

There was a look Dr. Theo got sometimes that Jamie had only ever seen otherwise in the eyes of a stray cat intent on disemboweling an entire ball of string. It was a laser-focused stare, almost mean with its intensity. She couldn't tell which part he was most intrigued by yet, she hadn't even started speaking, but she knew the second she stuck her hand near, he'd lunge for her with claws extended.

"Jamie, we don't have to rush any of our discussions. I know being reminded of our limited guaranteed time together can be stressful, and we'll talk with Tia about next steps soon, but we won't be able to solve everything in one day. If you want to continue, I'd like to hear how the workshop went but if you don't, then we won't."

Jamie didn't give either of them time to think twice.

"There were 12 people there. I- well with me, 13." She began, each syllable a painful admission. Jamie explained it all in greater detail than she usually gave, pausing only on the brief occasions when Dr. Theo made a note. 

By the time she got to the homophobic hate speech she'd spewed, Jamie felt almost robotic. It was like how she'd felt after her last breakdown at Tia's, only a little less lost. Dr. Theo waited until she wrapped up the story to type a few more things and Jamie was certain their hour was up. But somehow, when she glanced at the clock, they were only half-way through. 

"Jamie," Dr. Theo said and she hated the way his soft tone felt like the weight of Mason's jacket around her shoulders. "Thank you for sharing all of that with me. It sounds like you had a tough night." 

The sympathetic way he spoke made no sense in her ears. It sent uncomfortable prickles along the back of her neck and down her spine, a phantom hand with trailing fingers.

"What?" Jamie sputtered. Clearly she had told it all wrong to garner that reaction. Fuck, she wasn't trying to lie to him. She wasn't supposed to lie.

"No, I- I was awful. I made it worse for everyone, I really- I called Katie a- a-"

The slur stuck in her throat which was weird because it had been so easy to repeat it to him a moment ago. Or maybe she hadn't actually said it after all. Maybe he hadn't heard her.

"Fucking dykes."

"Hey Jamie, you're doing really well today. You don't have to repeat it, I heard you the first time, okay?" Dr. Theo was saying, but there was a louder voice in Jamie's mind now that drowned him out.

She reached up to brush a wild strand of hair back, but ended up running her fingers into her scalp and tugging as hard as she could.

"No daughter of mine is a fucking dyke, do you hear me?"

Jamie blinked and suddenly, Dr. Theo was directly in front of her, stooping to meet her at eye level.

"Jamie, can you do me a favour and raise one finger in the air for me please?" Dr. Theo asked. It stirred a creaking piece of her back to life.

Jamie disentangled a hand and raised her middle finger his way, earning a soft sigh and a small grin.

"You know, I was worried you might've forgotten how to do that for a moment." He said jokingly. 

"Not likely, Doc." Jamie replied. 

Everything still sounded muffled and far away, but less like she was down a tunnel and more she was underwater in the room.

"Can you name five items you see for me, Jamie?" He asked and she realized he could tell she was still sucked under too.

"Uhh clock," she said weakly, then scanned the room in earnest. "Blue plaid shirt, desk calendar is still gone, Apple logo on your shiny laptop, third book on the top shelf is a bit crooked and has a red spine." 

Usually it helped right away, having to pick out such tedious details. The more she noticed, the more present she had to be.

This time something was off though. With a start, Jamie realized that the fog hadn't dissipated, it had simply been blown to the side for a moment, and was already rapidly closing back in.

"Well done, Jamie. Can you give me four things you can hear? You can start with me." Dr. Theo prompted.

"Y-your voice." She said, sounding smaller than she had before. Thick, muffling fog. 10 feet of water overhead. 

"You know why God made women, right?" 

Jack's voice was rough and heavy as he spoke. He was using his calm angry voice, which was scarier than his yelling voice because it meant a long punishment. A real one, that would bruise more than her arms, her ass, or her face.

"G-God made Eve f-for Adam."  Jamie stuttered, trying to remember the story that the pastor's wife had told her. 

Jack's demeanor changed in a heartbeat, his edges softening ever so.

"Yes Jamie," he murmured and Jamie realized she was shaking. She needed to stop before she peed. Suddenly, his hand was settling around the back of her neck, his thumb coming to rest on the front, just over the lump in her throat. It made her overly aware of every breath she took. Jack didn't squeeze, just rested it there knowingly. 

"Eve came from Adam, didn't she? Kinda like how you came from me, right?" 

A rush of cold air nipped into the room, snapping Jamie's attention like a rubber band on her wrist. She wheeled around, searching for the source of the sudden interruption and found Dr. Theo standing at the window on the wall behind her, holding it wide open, letting the winter chill wash in through the screen.

What the fuck-

"You jumping out the window, Doc? Think... think there's a door if you're so..." Jamie's half-hearted snark trailed into nothingness, but she didn't drift far. Not like a moment ago.

The cold air flowing around her made her shiver. "Can we close that?"

"Yes, we will." Dr. Theo agreed, cranking the mechanism until it was mostly closed. Recognizing the change in temperature, the thermostat in the room gave a quiet click, and the heater kicked in with a faint hum.

"Jamie, could you come stand here for a moment?" Dr. Theo was asking in a voice that said 'if you don't, I won't be surprised but I'd really appreciate it if you do'. So, Jamie pushed up on the armrests and stumbled over until she was standing on the opposite side of the window.

"My, this winter's been brutal." Dr. Theo said, staring out into the park behind his office. Jamie followed his gaze and saw he was watching a group of young kids dragging sleds to the top of a mountain of snow that had been shoved into place by the plow that cleared the back parking lot. Dr. Theo chuckled as one of the kids shoved their friend down the hill. "Looks like some of us know how to properly take advantage of the weather though."

Jamie nodded, breathing lungfuls of the cold air. It was kind of refreshing, like the first plunge into a lake in the early summer, before the water'd had a chance to heat.

Carefully, she raised a hand not to her mouth but to touch her neck, tracing over the ghostly pressure that still constricted her throat.

"It seems like those moments of spacing out have been getting more intense for you lately." Dr. Theo said casually, as though they were still discussing the weather. "The last time was following a nightmare, which we know is sort of unpredictable. Do you have any ideas what might be contributing to this one?"

Jamie didn't want to answer, but the answer bubbled up to her lips uncontrollably. "Jack." She mumbled.

Blaming him felt wrong. It wasn't his fault she was being so weak and fuzzy. It was hers, it was always Jamie's fault. Somehow, she knew no matter what she'd said though, that Dr. Theo would probably find a way to blame Jack for it anyways so there was no real point in wasting her breath further to defend him.

"Did something about the group make you think about Jack?" Dr. Theo asked curiously. "Or was it just an unrelated thing that happened?"

For once, Jamie wished Dr. Theo could read her mind so that she wouldn't have to explain herself. With the window still cracked open and being in a standing position, it was easier to stay present, but it was uncomfortable too. Jamie wanted so badly to lay down.

Not yet.

"Not the group really. Just..."

"Think you're some fag, Jamie?" 

The words in her head were fainter now. Jamie cleared her throat. "Y'know how I'm like... all..." 

Jamie waved her hands from her head to her feet, as if the vague gesture could encapsulate what she meant.

Dr. Theo clearly did not know. "I'm not sure actually, could you be more specific? Give an example maybe?"

"Can we sit?" Jamie complained.

"Of course, but I may ask you to stand or point out something in the room again if this gets too overwhelming or if I sense you're shutting down." Dr. Theo returned. "Would you like this open or closed?" 

"Closed please." 

Dr. Theo cranked the window shut and they both sat in their seats.

"You were saying?"

So, Jamie explained exactly what she meant. How her wardrobe and the music she listened to and the way she chewed her nails and everything about her was the opposite of girlish. She explained how she never really had a boyfriend before Weston, though Dr. Theo knew that, and how Jack always called her weird for it. It had never been much of a problem, her posture or her hatred of make-up or her indifference towards motherhood. Until that one day, when Jack had... had...

Why couldn't she remember the way the event had gone? 

"Is it possible that I'm... could my brain be making up something that didn't happen to make me feel less bad for what I said to Mason?" Jamie's head felt like it could spin right off. 

Dr. Theo typed something on his computer. It felt like it took forever.

"Brains are a funny, imperfect organ. I would say in your case, that it's very unlikely you've had a false memory. Is there a reason why you believe whatever you've remembered isn't real?"

Jamie breathed in deeply through her nose, then out slowly through her mouth. Dr. Theo hadn't instructed her to, but she needed a moment to clear her head.

"I didn't... want to call Mason or Katie those things." She admitted softly. "Fuck, I'm so tired. I just want to sleep."

Dr. Theo spent the last 10 minutes of their session going over ways that Jamie would prevent another shutdown over the next week, including skipping tonight's workshop. He thanked Jamie for a bunch of stupid stuff like talking to him which was what this whole dumb thing was about and for attending the workshop which she also had very little say over. He also dedicated the meeting two meetings from now to focus on Jamie's transition into post-grant life.

It was a quiet ride home. Tia seemed to sense Jamie's utter exhaustion, letting her off the hook for her monosyllabic responses by turning up the radio instead. Before she'd left, Dr. Theo made sure Jamie had a new notebook in her hands- a baby blue one this time and she turned it over and over, memorizing the texture of it with her fingers as they turned off the highway, down their gravel road.

Dr. Theo's kind gesture would've brought tears to Jamie's eyes if she didn't know how to blink them back. She knew she should feel guilty for receiving another journal, especially after so carelessly losing her last one, but all she felt was weak gratitude. The gratitude hit her once again as she sat in her bed and opened the journal to find Dr. Theo's five prompts scrawled on the first page, just like her last.

When 6pm rolled around, Jamie set aside the work that she'd only just started and made her way to the kitchen for something to eat. 

Alex glanced up at Jamie from the couch as she strolled by, Tia's feet across his lap and a bowl of leftover spaghetti in his hands. "Hey, don't you have some group thing on Thursday's now? Why are you home?" He asked, confused.

Before Jamie could reply, Tia shot him a dirty look, silencing him in an instant.

"Okay then, my bad." Alex said, his hands up in feigned surrender. "I'll shut my dumb mouth. Uh, there's pasta in the fridge, kid."

Shuffling to the fridge, Jamie couldn't help overhearing Tia hissing at Alex some reprimand. 

"I know, I know," Alex whispered back. Then suddenly, the volume on the TV was being increased.

Jamie pulled the container of spaghetti out, and glanced up to see Alex and Tia still muttering to one another, their heads nearly pressed together.

"- celebrate World Nutella Day with us by using the hashtag World Nutella Day!" A cheery disembodied woman's voice piped up as a spinning jar of Nutella filled the TV screen.

Tia didn't seem to notice, too absorbed in Alex, so Jamie turned away, a small secret sigh parting her lips. It could be jarring how quickly things seemed to shift underfoot, but they never fell too far out of place.

Chapter Text

Jamie slept harder than she could ever remember sleeping before. On Friday, she hit snooze on her alarm three times before swinging her legs over the side of her bed. While Tia and Alex were at work, the living room became her own personal office. She sat with her laptop on her knees for hours, typing captions for a children's cartoon about a mouse and a frog that would likely never air on mainstream TV. By the time dinner rolled around, it was a fight to keep her eyes open. 

The weekend came and went nearly as uneventfully. On Sunday afternoon, Tia convinced Jamie to at least take a look at her cellphone with her and they spent an hour customizing it to Jamie's taste. 

"You can add your bank app here, your email, your notes. We can download music onto it and change the wallpaper."

After Tia was done playing with it, Jamie found her new banking app and used it to transfer Tia the $165 she had accumulated in her account since her last pay. When Tia's own phone pinged notifying her of the exchange, she didn't protest or try to send Jamie the money back like she used to at first. Jamie supposed the cellphone wouldn't be so bad after all.

Wednesday rolled around and Jamie was still going to sleep earlier than normal and waking up late. As she ate her lunch alone, she found herself thinking about how weird the human body was and realized her stomach hadn't really been bothering her all week. It was confusing because she thought that surely, with all the emotional lows she'd been hitting, there would be consequences. Of course, nothing in her life was so easily predictable.

On Thursday, she packed her new journal and cellphone into a reusable grocery bag and went into her appointment without complaint. Jamie had even gone as far as saying good morning to Alex before he left for work, surprising them both.

"How can it just be this way?" Jamie asked as she slumped into the armchair in Dr. Theo's office.

"Good morning, Jamie," Dr. Theo responded in bright greeting. "Can I get you anything to drink before we start?"

Jamie wrinkled her nose at his overly shiny demeanor. "You were a barista in a past life." She muttered, then distracted herself with the length of her index nail. Her first urge was to remedy the new growth by chewing it off but she paused at the sight.

"See?" She waved the finger at him, pointing to the few millimeters of white showing at the tip.

Dr. Theo abandoned his attempt to indoctrinate Jamie into some good manners and took his seat across from her.

"Your nails?" Dr. Theo asked politely. 

"Yes! Well, mostly this one, but look-" Jamie leaned in a little closer, showing off her hangnail-ridden, stubby digit for him to observe. "My nails are actually like, growing out. This week has been so boring and normal. Doc, I think you might've actually done it. You've cured me."

Dr. Theo's lips twitched, then pursed and he leaned over to type on his computer. 

"You're in quite good spirits today." He said as his fingers flew across the keys. "Care to fill me in on what I've missed the last week?"

Jamie could hardly believe it was the second week of February already. The retelling of her week went quickly since she hadn't done much besides work and set up her cellphone, so she ended up rambling to Dr. Theo about the future a bit too. She mentioned how in two days, it would be Valentine's day, so Tia and Alex would be getting a hotel room for a night. Then, she pointed out how her birthday would be following that, and how surreal it was that time was passing so quickly. Dr. Theo hmm'd and ha'd and asked small questions here and there but otherwise let her go off and by the time she'd talked herself out, she felt a bit like Tia.

"I'd like to say how impressed I am with you for accepting your gift from Tia with such grace. Being given items or support of significant monetary value has typically been a point of contention with you, and it seems like this time around, you're handling it quite well."

Jamie clicked her tongue. "Well, I'm gonna pay her back, obviously." She pointed out. "I'm not a freeloader."

Dr. Theo folded his hands together in front of him. His shirt today was a mint green that did nothing for his complexion. Jamie found herself glancing towards the calendar that wasn't there, looking to see which holiday he might be embodying today.

"What if you didn't?" Dr. Theo mused and Jamie's forehead scrunched up in confusion.

"What?"

"Well," Dr. Theo said slowly. "What if you never paid Tia back for the phone? What if she just gave you a nice thing, and you never did anything in return for it?"

Sometimes, Jamie wondered if Dr. Theo was secretly a whackjob patient that got stuck here and just decided to take on clients of his own to fill his time.

"Uhh that's selfish."

"So?" Dr. Theo countered and Jamie scoffed.

"What the fuck are we doing right now, Doc?" Jamie asked, bewildered. Her calm, good mood was slowly chipping away. 

"I don't believe you're selfish, Jamie, but I also don't believe that selfishness is inherently bad. In fact, there are times that that instinct keeps people alive. Everyone is selfish now and then, even me. I'm just wondering what might happen if you decided to be a bit selfish for once? Just for a minute?"

Out of nowhere, a spike of panic struck Jamie in the chest. It was quickly followed by anger, both climbing up her ribs and out her throat.

"Then, I'd be another selfish stuck up bitch I guess. You think I'm going soft or something? Is that what this is? I'm letting Tia baby me or something by taking the phone?"

Dr. Theo waited until she'd begun ripping her nails apart to speak up again.

"It seems like this exercise is distressing for you. Even thinking about accepting a gift without repayment makes you feel uneasy, doesn't it?" 

Snorting around her finger, Jamie let the noise speak for her and ignored Dr. Theo as he tip-tapped on his keyboard once again.

"I'd like to ask you a question that you may find ridiculous, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd humour me." His voice was extra careful, like he knew how Jamie would answer and he was prepared for the worst. She didn't. He continued anyway. "It appears that this causes you distress. I'd like to know where in your body you're feeling the distress when we talk about this?"

Jamie stared at him blankly. At the small space on his pasty white forehead above the bridge of his glass, right between his thick grey eyebrows.

"Close your eyes if it helps."

She didn't, opting to look away instead.

"Alright, now concentrate on your body. How is it feeling?" Dr. Theo asked gently and Jamie wanted to punch him square in the face for it.

"Angry." She spat, lowering her hand from her face and balling it into a fist.

Jack would hit him. Jack would take one look at this stupid, soft, pathetic excuse of a man and feel obligated to show him a taste of what the real world's like.

"I see your shoulders and hands are tense. Are you feeling tension anywhere else?" Dr. Theo prodded.

Jamie let out a huff and closed her eyes. 

"This is stupid." She grumbled, but focused anyway. Yeah, she was tense. Her fingers. Her neck. Her stomach. Her jaw. Her toes. She named each place off one by one, ending with her eyes which remained scrunched shut.

"Wow, a lot of tension," Dr. Theo murmured. "Is there anything else? Any other sensations in your body that being a little bit selfish might cause?" 

Jamie forced a breath. "My lungs hurt. They're- it's-" she couldn't find any words that fit right. "This is so dumb." She complained again.

"I know it feels that way," Dr. Theo said placatingly. "Can you compare the feeling to something else? Is it breathlessness? Tightness? Pressure?"

Jamie nodded at his suggestions. "Yeah. Like that." Absentmindedly, she pressed a hand flat against her chest. 

"Thank you, that's very helpful." Dr. Theo murmured. Jamie noticed the sound of keys clacking as he probably typed how crazy she was. 

"Is it?" She couldn't help but ask. Immediately, she hated the whininess in her voice. In a matter of minutes, she'd gone from totally zen to some high-strung blathering whiner and it was entirely Dr. Theo's fault.

"You know, I came in here feeling pretty good for once. You sure know how to fix a good mood." Jamie muttered. With her eyes still closed, she thought of Jack again. If she'd have ever spoken to him this way, he'd have spanked her so hard she could taste it.

"Don't you ever want to just haul off and deck me?" Jamie blurted out suddenly, eyes fluttering open. 

Dr. Theo had been starting to say something, but she'd talked right over him- another thing Jack hated. His blue eyes did something strange, almost like a twitch or a suppressed wince as he surveyed her.

"No, I don't ever want to do that. Though, I prefer to avoid violence in general. Do you ever want to hit me?"

The laugh Jamie let out was cold and humourless. "All the fucking time, Doc. All. The. Time."

The pads of fingers clicked against her thumbs soundlessly. It was a mindless gesture that she paid little attention to, except when it made one uneven edge in her nail obvious. Without looking, she brought her ring finger to her mouth and ran it against her bottom teeth.

"Why don't you then?" Dr. Theo's words stopped her dead.

"You don't like it, Jamie, so why don't you stop me, huh? Fucking pussy. Hit me, kid. You want to be a big man, Jamie? Hit me- and make sure you kill me while you're at it because when I get my hands on you?"

Jamie's hands dropped to her sides and wound into fists. Suddenly, she was caught in some strange overlapping space that didn't really exist between Dr. Theo's office and Jack's bedroom. She knew it wasn't real, that the warping of reality was only in her mind but it was still an awful feeling, like being split in two. "You think I'm a pussy?" She spit through clenched teeth. "That what you think? Think I won't?"

A spasm in her stomach made her lurch to her feet. It brought a sharp pain, like the point of a knife twisting in deep a few finger lengths below her belly button. Dr. Theo had started typing instead of answering her, but when she stood, he paused.

"I believe that you're definitely capable. However, in the past two years, I've given you plenty of opportunities and you haven't yet. You seem to feel strongly about this, so while I don't want to be hit, I do wonder why you haven't."

"Fuck you." Jamie was seething now. 

He thinks I won't?

"How are we feeling now?" Dr. Theo prompted. 

"Like once I start hitting you, I won't stop." She retorted. He nodded solemnly. 

"And you don't want to hit me."

"What?" 

Dr. Theo leaned forward in a way that would seem smug if his expression wasn't so serious. "You think you want to hit me because you're upset and your hands are tense, and once upon a time, that was modeled to you as an acceptable solution in moments of dysregulation, but you don't enjoy hurting people. You want the feelings you're experiencing to stop but you know that hitting me won't help and you don't want to hit me. I've had violent clients before, Jamie, but you are not one. Except occasionally to yourself."

Jamie realized her hands were tangled in her hair, yanking fistfuls at her scalp.

"You're an asshole. You're a real fucking asshole, you know that?" Jamie muttered, flexing and relaxing her fingers to send sharp pinpricks of pain through her head and down her neck. It distracted her from the cramping ache intensifying in her gut.

"I know." Dr. Theo sighed, sounding almost disappointed. "I prefer to be direct with people. Particularly with you because of your uncanny ability to call me out when I'm going about something in a roundabout way. It's easier for both of us but it's also difficult since authoritative figures are sort of a trigger for you."

"What the fuck-"

"When you're feeling this pent up tension at home, how do you cope with it?" Dr. Theo interrupted, cutting her off uncharacteristically.

Jamie slouched and grabbed the back of her chair, hating the way that Dr. Theo was looking at her, trying to hide his stupid pity. She hated that he thought she was some defenseless weakling that he could talk down to. And she hated that he could probably tell how much pain she was in just by the way she was standing and that he only didn't point it out cuz he knew she'd deny it if he did.

"I don't know what you mean." She mumbled and looked away.

Dr. Theo hummed, then made a note. Boy, this was certainly chalking up to be a noteworthy session. "Have you been doing anything to relax? Anything that helps you feel better?"

The first thing that came to Jamie's mind was her teddy, J, but she sure as fuck would not tell Dr. Theo that.

Instead, Jamie spent 10 minutes evading the rest of Dr. Theo's invasive questions before she shut up and quit responding at all.

"Will you be attending tonight's workshop?" Dr. Theo asked and Jamie threw him a withering look. 

"I spoke to Leslee. She said that everything's been running smoothly so I assume Mason didn't issue a complaint." Jamie felt a flash of warmth all over, but mostly in her pits and the sides of her neck. Frankly, she hadn't even considered the possibility that Mason could bring her comments to Leslee. Maybe Jamie was banned from the group and she didn't even know yet?

"I asked if anyone had turned in an orange journal. She said no one has so far, but that she'd ask around tonight for you."

Horror. Pure inescapable dread coursed through Jamie at the thought of Leslee making such an announcement. Would she take a turn reading Jamie's most personal thoughts too?

That decided it. Jamie had to get her journal back herself. She'd show up tonight and hopefully it would turn out that her sniveling seat-neighbour Emma had picked it up, and Jamie could slip away before anyone else even noticed she was there.

Jamie told Tia her plan as soon as she hopped into her car.

"You sure you don't want to stay? Give it one more shot?" Tia suggested, shifting into drive. 

Jamie shook her head. Her aunt didn't know the reason she'd fled, only that Jamie felt overwhelmed and had to leave. She was grateful when Tia muttered a defeated "alright then." It was a relief knowing that in a mere matter of hours, her journal could be back in her hands.

—————

Jamie and Tia were the first ones to pull into the church parking lot. It had been Tia's idea, to leave a bit earlier, that way Jamie could ask people if they'd found a journal as they arrived instead of trying to capture people's attention inside. Part of Jamie felt embarrassed, leaning against her aunt's Corolla in front of the church's double-doors, but a bigger part of her was determined.

"Just do this, and we'll never go anywhere else ever again." She muttered to herself.

Leslee was, unsurprisingly, the next one to arrive. She greeted Jamie warmly as she unlocked the front door, then gestured for her to come inside. 

Clearly Mason didn't rat.

"No. Uh, I mean sorry, but no, I'm not uh. Not staying." She stammered, intimidated by the steady, sure woman, despite her friendly demeanor.

Leslee gave Jamie a strange look so she quickly elaborated. "Sorry, I'm just here to pick up my journal. It's an orange one. I forgot it the last time I was here."

Her rambling brought an expression of recognition to Leslee's face. "Oh!" She said brightly. "Yes, I knew someone was looking for an orange book. I didn't find it last time. I'm sure someone probably picked it up for you."

Jamie nodded, cheeks as pink from embarrassment as they were from the cold. Leslee said something about Jamie being welcome to join the meeting, then wished her luck in finding the book. As she departed, Jamie couldn't scurry away quickly enough. Simply standing in the entrance-way made Jamie feel uncomfortable.

Steph, the girl with highlighter yellow hair, arrived with another girl. Neither of them said they'd seen a journal. Jamie thanked them both but a sinking feeling of hopelessness was gnawing at her.

The older woman with silver hair, and the girl whose share Jamie had ignored both denied seeing her book either. Emma trudged towards her from where she'd been dropped off and seemed genuinely happy to see her until Jamie told her she was only here for her journal. 

"That's too bad," she sighed, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Honestly, I think one of the guys picked it up." Emma murmured conspiratorially and Jamie's pulse quickened.

Fuck, fuck.

"Sebastian or Mason?" Jamie croaked. 

Emma tilted her head to the side. "Which one had the leather jacket?"

As Emma entered, she threw Jamie one last longing glance but Jamie was too self-absorbed to really take note. She wasn't here to make friends- she'd proved that the last time well enough.

When Mason's car rolled up- a black Civic with a rosary dangling from the rear view- Jamie considered hopping into Tia's vehicle and telling her to just go. It was a cowardly impulse though and Jamie was better than that. Jack had raised her better. 

Katie sat in the front passenger seat, eyeing Jamie warily as Mason put the car in park. He might not have ratted Jamie out to Leslee, but he'd probably told Katie about the entire thing. Katie would be right to hate Jamie for it. Jamie hated herself. 

It surprised Jamie when Sebastian suddenly emerged from the backseat as well. She'd assumed they were all friends from how they'd stuck together, but carpooling was another level. 

It was impossible to ignore the weight of the trio's eyes on her. Jamie ducked her head, but stayed in place, standing right beside the entrance.

"- keep it stocked but I can't do everything!" Sebastian exclaimed, sounding frustrated. The group was approaching her, and of the three, only Sebastian seemed at ease.

"Oh, hey Jamie!" He greeted as soon as he noticed her, from an awkward distance away. She gave him a small, fast wave, then tucked her hand back at her side.

As they approached, Jamie decided to cut to the chase. "You guys see a journal left here two weeks ago? Orange. Yay big." She gestured with her hands.

Sebastian and Katie both flicked their eyes to Mason, confirming Jamie's biggest fear. 

Fuck times three million. They probably all sat and read it together, making fun of my complete, stupid, idiocy.

Mason tilted his head to the entrance but his eyes stayed locked on Jamie as they moved closer. "You guys can go in, I'll catch up." He said coolly, and Jamie suddenly felt the urge to turn to Tia for help. 

She crossed her arms and locked her knees instead. 

Sebastian and Katie parted from Mason, falling into step with one another as they trudged to the door alone. A thin, tall girl in a fuzzy black coat with a bag slung over her shoulder walked in behind them as Sebastian held the door for her.

"You didn't come back last week." Mason said accusingly as the church door snicked closed. 

"I told you I wouldn't." Jamie replied with equal verve.

Mason's breath came out in a barely visible cloud. It was only 6pm, and while the sky was bright, the sun had long set. There was something about the lighting that changed Mason's face. The resemblance she'd once thought he'd shared with Weston wasn't there anymore. In the dusk, his deep-set eyes looked even darker.

There was a long, drawn out silence as neither of them spoke. Then, an admittance. "I have your journal." Mason finally murmured and Jamie felt everything in her clench. 

"Give it to me." Jamie tried to demand, but her voice cracked halfway through and it left her sounding weak and pleading.

Mason sighed, then looked down at the ground where his boots met the snow. "It's not on me." 

Jamie's shoulders sagged in disappointment and the mortifying sting of tears prickled in her eyes. She looked up instead of down, forcing them not to fall. Thankfully, Mason was far enough not to be able to see any glossiness. 

"Great." She huffed at the sky, unsure what to say. When she glanced back at Mason he was staring at her so hard it might've been a challenge.

"I can bring it next week. I didn't think you were going to be here today."

God, he wanted her to come back again next week? Fuck this. The simmering anger in her veins turned to a full boil. 

"Why didn't you throw it out or like, give it to Leslee or something?" Jamie snapped. Mason had the audacity to appear completely at ease.

He gave her a shrug, his leather shoulders bunching then relaxing. "I figured you'd want it back eventually. Or at least, that you wouldn't want anyone else reading it."

Anyone else. Anyone else.

"You read it?" She sputtered indignantly, fists clenching. Jamie's voice rose an octave. "What the fuck gives you the right to read my shit? That's personal." 

"Is that Tia?" He asked, pointing to their car where Tia sat, watching them intensely from the driver's seat.

Jamie couldn't tell what she felt more: humiliation or fuming anger. Her arms were shaking- her entire body was with barely suppressed emotion.

"None of your fucking business." Jamie snapped.

Mason tilted his head and let out a low whistle. "So much anger." He murmured lowly looking her up and down in a way that scraped her down to her bones. "What happened to you, Jamie? Who twisted you up like this?" 

Jamie felt the question like a punch in her ribs, knocking the wind from her lungs. She leaned back so far, she stumbled, off-balance.

"Can you compare the feeling to something else? Is it breathlessness? Tightness? Pressure?"

She heard Dr. Theo's echo in the back of her mind. Mason's eyes widened in alarm as she continued to scramble backwards, practically falling away. Jamie heard Tia open her door and call her name but even a few feet sounded distant. Mason called something out to her too that was shaped like an apology but what'd he'd said before had deafened her.

This time when Jamie ran, footsteps followed.

Chapter Text

No journal. Annoyed Tia. Embarrassed myself. Missing Jack. In pain. In debt. Acted selfishly. Doc's wrong.

The list Jamie scribbled of all of the reasons that she was pissed off could go on forever, so she limited herself to two word phrases. It still spanned half a page in her new journal. 

Her hand cramped from all the things she had to say.

Nosey Mason. Stupid bladder. Broken brain. Broken body. Ignorant Alex. Cheap job. Expensive life.

After the events of Thursday night, Jamie locked herself in her room for three days. Tia and Alex had stayed home instead of going out for Valentine's day because of her and part of Jamie knew she needed to be punished for that. Her behaviour probably didn't seem much different from usual, except that she was only emerging for her meds in the morning and at night. Since she couldn't skip those, she used the two intervals to grab food and go to the washroom. Other than that, she decided it was best for her to be completely isolated.

Trapped here. Weston gone. Ruined v-day. Still alive. Still stupid. Stupid workshop.

She'd started writing it all down to get it out of her system but the more she put down, the worse she felt. There had to be a better way- some method to get her out of her head and anchored in reality- but her next meeting with Dr. Theo wasn't for another couple days so she was making do.

Wasting time. Wasting space. Wasting paper.

Their next meeting wasn't about her anyways. They were supposed to be talking about how to transition from having Dr. Theo around but everything was making her feel so small and insignificant. Even huddled in her bed with the door closed, Jamie's room felt big enough to lose herself in. Sometimes life was just too big.

Too much. No energy. No point.

Once, when Jamie was 12, she spent an entire summer in her bathroom. It was a small, nasty space since Jack never scrubbed the toilet and Jamie didn't know people needed to. A thick layer of congealed spit, toothpaste, and mildew stunk up the sink basin, and Jamie remembered puking violently once after Jack shoved her face in it. The cleanest spot in the place was the bathtub that Jamie had taken up residence in and even it was stained brown and ringed with mold. For two months though, she'd thought of it as a safe haven. Jack called her weird for it. Sometimes he'd get irrationally angry with her for taking up the space, but mostly, he just let her- apart from when he or Gary needed to use the bathroom. Then school started again and Jack dragged her back into their bed every night, except for when her stomach was acting up. 

Sighing deeply, Jamie let go of her pen and laid flat on her back. 

It was official, she was pathetic. Worse than that, she was wallowing in self-pity like every other soft snowflake her age. She had to grow up and grow a fucking spine.

"Jamie?" Tia called, knocking lightly on her bedroom door and Jamie bolted upright, startling.

It was family day- an ironic and moronic holiday that had both Tia and Alex home from work. If Jack were here, he'd point out how it was probably made up by some government worker looking for more time off.

"Uh, yeah?" Jamie called back, shoving J further down the crevice of her bed. She hadn't even taken him out but making sure he was hidden had become an automatic reflex.

Tia said that it was dinner and Jamie told her she'd have some later. She used the excuse that her guts were hurting, which wasn't a lie but the cramps were tolerable- not yet near pants-pissing intensity like they were when she usually mentioned them. Tia couldn't have known that though and left her to carry out her self-inflicted punishment in peace.

—————

"We can pay for your sessions, just maybe once every other week instead?" Tia negotiated on Jamie's behalf. Dr. Theo agreed that that was an option, and then handed Tia a form to complete that would help determine how much Dr. Theo's clinic could reem her for.

It was 11am on Thursday, which was usually when Jamie would be trudging out to the parking lot to meet Tia. Instead, their meeting had run over and they still hadn't landed on a solution and it was all entirely Tia and Dr. Theo's fault.

Jamie had spoken up only twice so far, both sarcastic remarks that made Tia glare her way until she shrank back in her seat and clamped up. It reminded Jamie a bit of how she felt growing up, the couple of times that a social worker dared show up at Jack's house. Each time, Jack would meet them at the door, with angry eyes and balls of steel. They'd be so intimidated that they'd stutter through their entire interview. And when Jamie said the wrong things, Jack's mean eyes would trail over to her, and she'd feel a hint of panic and wonder if Jack would let them take her just for that. He always let her call him dad during those interviews...

So, Jamie shut up and fixed her eyes on the clock. She watched intently, only half-listening to Tia and Dr. Theo, as the minute hand crept down and down and down. As it sank, she sank with it, her hands clutching the arms of her chair, her heels digging into the carpet. Down, down, down.

I miss Jack.

The thought came forcefully to Jamie's mind. So forcefully, it slipped through her lips without her even noticing. 

"What?" Tia asked abruptly, facing her. Dr. Theo paused mid-sentence to do the same.

The sudden attention was stifling. Jamie realized at once what she'd done and jerked upright, her confession lingering in the air like a bad smell, making everyone wrinkle their nose at her.

"Time's up." She mumbled, then stood and fled, leaving Dr. Theo's door wide open to the befuddled receptionist's surprise.

Tia caught up to Jamie in the parking lot, her voice crossing the distance shortly before her legs could. Jamie hadn't dressed for the weather, wearing only a sweater despite the negative temperatures. She hadn't planned to be outside for long so as frustrated as she was with Tia chasing after her, she was grateful too.

"What was that?" Her aunt demanded, breathing unevenly from the exertion. Her dark hair was pinned half-up in a way that would look messy if Jamie attempted to recreate it but framed her face nicely. 

"Are you mad at me?" Jamie had wanted to sound calm and mature but the question came out all small and broken instead. Tia's brown eyes roamed over her face, like she hadn't decided whether she was mad and was searching for a reason to be. Jack never seemed to have to search so hard.

Thinking about him twisted Jamie's guts up. Made her run a thumb along her fingertips and stick the nail with the longest length between her teeth.

After a second, Tia's shoulders deflated, giving Jamie her answer before she said it. "No kid," she murmured, sounding exasperated. Then, with a jerk of her head. "Get in the car, it's cold as shit."

As the car warmed up, Tia queued up her playlist and made Jamie use her cellphone to search up the lyrics to the first song that played so she could correct her when she got them wrong. Tia got them wrong a lot.

An awkward unnameable tension laid openly between them like it always did whenever Jamie mentioned Jack. They both pretended not to notice it because it was easier that way, but it remained beneath the surface of every lighthearted joke Tia made and every flippant remark Jamie returned, like they were both standing at the edge of an underwater cliff.

Jamie guessed it was because Tia's sister had abandoned Jamie in the first place, and talking about Jack probably reminded Tia about that. Jamie never really thought about her mom much but once in a while, she'd overhear Tia whispering in her room to someone on the phone and wonder if it was her. She wanted to tell Tia not to feel guilty about it but part of her also liked that she felt badly- like it proved the depth of her aunt's affections for her in some twisted way.

"What happened to you, Jamie? Who twisted you up like this?"

The drive home felt infinitely long. It felt too short.

Jamie took her time kicking her boots off at the front door as if she could prolong reality. It was already the afternoon and Jamie still hadn't asked Tia if she'd drive her to the church tonight. She had to see Mason again to get her journal back so it wasn't optional. Any time she thought about it- how he'd read what she'd written down- it made her want to shrivel up in a tiny ball and die, and it just cemented the fact that she needed the book back.

She needed to face him and not run.

Alex was fiddling with the vacuum in the living room when they arrived and only looked up to kiss Tia as she passed. Though Tia didn't announce it, both Jamie and Alex knew she'd be going to her bedroom to finish her prep and left her to it.

Now, Jamie just had to decide what she wanted to do. After not eating properly for a week, she felt like crap. Since it seemed her self-punishment was over, she wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a tangerine. 

"Hey, throw me one too?" Alex asked, setting the vacuum down.

Jamie did and Alex caught it smoothly in one hand. Vacuum momentarily forgotten, they both stood there peeling their fruits in silence until Alex piped up again.

"So, you done with that writing club?" His tone of voice was forcefully nonchalant, in a suspicious way. 

Jamie picked a segment of her tangerine apart slowly. "Yep."

One hand full of peel, Alex bit chunks off of his tangerine like a psychopath instead of pulling off sections. It would be horrifying if it wasn't such an Alex thing to do.

"Damn. Tia was actually so hopeful you'd give it a real shot." He said and though it was fairly gentle, the sentence still stung.

I did, Jamie wanted to protest but even in her mind, it sounded hollow.

"That phone, man. That was her holiday bonus." Alex continued and this time, real dread sparked.

"I didn't want it." Jamie said quickly, the tangerine slices suddenly tasting like slimy ashes in her mouth. "She can have it back- sell it-"

"No, that's not the point." Alex interrupted. "She doesn't want the money, she wants you to be... y'know. Like healthier. Have a life. Have friends. Whatever."

Jamie set the last of her snack on their kitchen table. If she didn't, she would've made a real mess because her hands were balling into fists. Silence stretched between them another moment. Alex seemed perfectly at ease with it, biting into his fruit again and again, then licking his fingers clean.

"I'm trying." Jamie finally said.

"Try harder." Alex replied. He clicked the vacuum on and the conversation was done. 

Jamie stood in the kitchen for a long time afterwards, watching Alex vacuum the floors, her mind churning. 

Later, Alex was the one to drop her off at the church.

—————

"You're here."

Jamie had been staring at the side of the church blankly since Alex pulled away, thinking about all of the ways she owed Tia and how she could never repay her.

Mason's low voice cut through the noise easily.

She turned and was unsurprised to see Sebastian and Katie arm-in-arm, throwing her strange looks as they shuffled to the entry. 

"You have my book?" Jamie practically begged, tensing in anticipation.

The orange book flew at her in a high arc, spinning in the air. Jamie's reflexes were slower than average, but she managed to catch it with both hands, slamming it against her chest with a gasp.

"I told you I would. I kinda thought you weren't showing though." Mason's chin had a smattering of dark stubble across it. He reached up and rubbed it and Jamie wondered if it would be as prickly as Jack's was. "You keep surprising me."

Jamie felt herself flushing under his gaze and had to look down. She busied herself with scanning her journal pages, as if she needed to prove to herself it was really there. Any moment, Mason would say something smug and walk away, and Jamie would plant herself against the side of the church until Alex showed back up and she'd pretend to Alex and Tia like she'd enjoyed herself here.

Any moment.

"No Tia?" Mason asked casually, shoulders shifting in his bulky leather jacket. She hated that he remembered her aunt's name. "You're staying this time?"

Jamie scoffed at that, kicking a chunk of ice with the toe of her black boot. "Why are you still here?" 

He ducked his head sheepishly and Jamie swore she heard an "I don't even know" muttered softly under his breath. When Mason looked back up, she felt his eyes on her like they were stroking her skin. "Sebastian had a crush on you. For all of five minutes."

It took a second for Jamie to process what Mason was saying but when she did, she couldn't help the incredulous laughter that escaped her.

"What?" She sputtered and Mason gave a solemn nod. 

"Oh yeah, he was head over heels." He laughed. "Seb's like that though- falls a little in love with everyone he meets."

Jamie could picture it. She thought of the kid with his fluffy brown hair, shivering next to her in his kitten grey sweater as they'd walked together that first day. Nobody had ever really had a crush on Jamie before, so she hadn't clued in on it, but looking back, she felt like an idiot. He was cute, she supposed, in a gentle, soft way. Not at all her type, not that it mattered.

"Katie hates you, but you did call her a dyke so..." Mason continued. "Not that she knows that."

"You didn't tell her?" Jamie let the disbelief lay flat in her voice.

Mason shook his head. "Nah, no point. It'd hurt her feelings more than anything. Plus, you didn't seem too sure when you said it." He pursed his lips. "Not that it makes it okay."

"I- you saying I'm- that I don't know what I'm saying?"

Smooth, fuckface.

It was less windy today, the parking lot eerily still around them. Mason, Sebastian and Katie must've been the last to arrive, since no one else seemed to be showing up. Jamie and Mason were completely alone and Jamie wondered what time it was, if the meeting had already started.

"I think you knew exactly what you were saying," Mason corrected. "I just don't think you believed it." 

Jamie's chest tightened. She was beginning to feel that fluttery panic that often gripped her right before she-

"Don't run." The command Mason gave was low and serious and distracted Jamie out of her head.

She forced a shallow breath, toes curling in her boots. "What?"

Mason took a step closer- close enough for her to notice the fine lines that crinkled the corners of his hooded eyes. "You're flighty. If insulting me helps, go ahead and call me names, but don't take off again or else I'll have to take off after you and I don't feel like running right now."

His words sounded like a threat. Jamie knew in a way that they were, though she didn't understand exactly what he was implying. Was he planning to stand out here for two hours with her? She sure as shit wouldn't be going in so... What the fuck was he hoping to gain?

"Why would you?" She asked bluntly. "Run after me?"

"Why do you always write to the same five prompts every day?"

Jamie answered him with a glare.

"That's why. Until I know the answer to that, I can't let you run off again."

It was a brighter evening, less clouds muting the sky, but it was getting darker by the moment. Mason suddenly looked around as if noticing where they were for the first time.

"Sit in my car?"

Jamie blinked warily at the black Civic that Mason was turning towards. She imagined sinking into the passenger's seat, sitting so closely to a stranger. Then she imagined him throwing the car into drive, abducting her, torturing her for everything she'd said and dropping her body off in the woods. "Yeah, don't think so."

As if reading her mind, Mason fished his keys out of his pocket and held them out to her. "You can sit in the driver's seat." 

Crap. Her excuses flew out the window. Gingerly, she took the dangling keys from his offered hand. 

Jamie didn't have a driver's license, so she rarely got to sit on the driver's side of a vehicle. In fact the last time she'd done so had probably been with Weston, on top of him in the front seat of his truck. The driver's seat was the only one that could lean far enough back for her to lay on him comfortably and they'd done a lot of that in the beginning- parking down by the docks to make out in his truck. The memory curdled in her stomach like spoiled milk. 

The keys were cold in Jamie's hand, the metal teeth digging into her thumb from where she squeezed it. 

"It's unlocked," Mason called over his shoulder as they trudged to it, splitting around the hood to take their respective seats. Jamie couldn't imagine sitting on Mason's lap in this thing. He seemed too big for it as it was, tucking his knees and ducking his head to contort himself into it.

Jamie deposited herself gracelessly onto the still-warm seat and was instantly enveloped by the smell of Mason. It was everywhere, that same warm, allspice smell that she'd inhaled off his jacket. They sat quietly for a moment, sheltered from the February evening's chill. Jamie reached out absentmindedly and stroked the white braid of the rosary that hung from the rearview mirror. The thin rope was rough beneath her fingertips. She let it fall away, then dropped her hand.

"What are we doing, Mason?" Her voice was a bit desperate as she faced him. The car shielded them from the cold, but it was darker inside it too. Jamie could barely discern the features of his face anymore. It made her feel safer in a way, but also not.

Jamie wondered if he'd play dumb about it.

He didn't, but he didn't give her an answer either. "Why did you look at me like that? At that first workshop?" He asked in return. "What were you thinking?"

"Stop doing that." Jamie snapped. "I asked fucking first. I-"

"I'm sorry." Mason interrupted, and if it had been any other string of words, she'd have thrown herself out of the car. Instead, her thumb found her mouth and she began to rip at the sensitive nail, waiting for him to continue. "I'm not trying to avoid your question, but I don't exactly know what to say either. We're here, sitting together, because you won't join the workshop and I'm going out of my mind wondering about you."

Sincerity rang through his words, and under it, a hint of genuine distress. Jamie knew the feeling. She knew what it was like to not be able to express herself how she wanted, always fucking up in some way. Did Mason feel that way too? 

She ran her top teeth across the pad of her thumb a few times, then tucked it into her fist.

"Y'know how I said Sebastian had a crush on you? But doesn't anymore?" Mason prompted. 

Jamie nodded, then hummed a soft affirmative note in case he couldn't see her well enough.

"Well, I'm the opposite." Mason said gravely. "I can't flit from interest to interest like he can. I get-" 

The church looked almost ominous from here, surrounded by forest, dark inside except for the light that leaked up from the basement. Jamie stared into it, no longer able to face Mason as he made what sounded like a confession.

"I can be a bit... intense. Focused. Once I decide I want something, I'm hard to shake." 

"What do you want?" Jamie asked. It was the first question that popped into her mind.

"Answers." He replied. "You can give me yours or I can draw my own conclusions. Either way, I can't let go until I have an explanation for all the questions in my brain... Ever since you looked at me- the way you stared at me... you looked terrified. But also like you were prepared to march over. And then you stood up and ran out before I could even catch your name."

"Sebastian's fleeting infatuation started there and ended the moment he left you upstairs with my jacket. He came down, bummed. Told me he thought you'd get along well with me and Katie- so, clearly you didn't give him the treatment you gave me." Jamie could hear the smile in his voice as he said that.

"And then I went up for my jacket and you hooked me too."

"Fuck." Jamie breathed. "You uh- you're making this sound like a love story, buddy. I don't even know you. You don't know me."

Mason chuckled and Jamie's face warmed.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what love is." The light teasing edge fell quickly from his voice as he kept on. "I read your journal, Jamie. You might not know me yet, but if you let me get to know the girl who wrote those entries, I'll let you know me too. I can't promise love, but I think we could be friends. What do you think?"

Friendship. Friendship with Mason. Had she ever had a friend before? Jamie didn't know what to say. 

"You haven't run yet. I take that as a good sign." The teasing edge came back to his voice and Jamie suddenly had the urge to punch his smug mouth.

"Shut the fuck up." She muttered but her heart wasn't in it. Jamie's entire body felt heavy, like exhaustion without exertion. If she could, she might've melted right into Mason's worn black seats.

She heard his grin again. "There she is. Hey, want to do me a favour?"

Jamie shrugged and he must've been able to tell because he asked her to start his car. She grabbed the keys from where she'd tucked them between her thighs, and singled out the one attached to a key fob. Embarrassment flooded her as she realized she didn't know exactly how starting a car worked. Jack had never had one, and no one ever explicitly taught her. She understood she had to shove it in the ignition and twist- but what way? How hard? 

"Uh, can- can you?"

She offered him the keys, expecting him to laugh at her again but he didn't.

"Do you know how?" Mason asked, no judgement in his voice.

Jamie didn't want to admit that she didn't. She didn't want to ask how to either. She settled on jingling the keys again, her mouth pressed shut.

"Alright, you're holding the right one. Just put it in the ignition, teeth side towards you. Then, twist it away from you until you hear the engine and release. Okay?" 

The instructions were pretty easy. A stubborn part of her wanted to insist that he do it himself, but she also wanted to try it. 

With minimal fumbling and great satisfaction, she managed to accomplish the simple task. The engine gently rumbled to life, then the heat kicked in and Jamie sighed appreciatively.

"Good, good. See? You're a natural." The hulking shadow of Mason joked. "Have you ever driven before?" 

The thought was darkly funny. Unlike her peers, Jamie spent her 16th birthday getting high in her boyfriend's apartment. No one had ever bothered to teach her. Not even Tia had tried to get her behind the wheel.

"Nope." Jamie said flatly. 

Mason hummed. A beat of silence followed. Then, Mason asked "how old are you?" In a tone that bordered on nervousness.

Jamie had to think about it. "Almost 21."

Mason exhaled audibly and Jamie barked a laugh. "What, scared to catch a case?"

"No, I just really hate kids."

Jamie laughed again at his flat tone, his dry humour the antidote to her sharp tongue. Before she could speak, a small square of light- Mason's cellphone- lit up his face and shoulders, making Jamie's breath catch.

It had been easy to talk to him, sitting side by side in the dark, but seeing the scruff on his chin, the crook in his nose, the set of his eyes... It made the moment feel less like a dream. 

Mason leaned forwards, reaching for a dangling cord and plugged his cell in. His car was clearly older, no screens like some of the fancy new vehicles Jamie'd seen.

"How old are you?" She asked, needing to fill the overwhelming silence as he started scrolling on his phone.  

Mason's eyes flicked to her, gleaming in the light. "24. So, older than you." He sounded almost apologetic about it.

"Not by much." Jamie muttered. 

"By enough."

She didn't argue him, but part of her wanted to scoff. It seemed like Weston and Mason were polar opposites in more ways than one. Jamie almost couldn't believe she'd ever compared the two.

A moment passed, then a grin appeared on Mason's lips that looked almost mischievous. Jamie ripped at her index fingernail, trying to staunch the nerves that kicked up in her stomach. "Now this," Mason said dramatically. "Will be exhibit A of why being my friend will be good for you. Are you ready?"

The song started with an upbeat twang of guitar strings and the male lead talk-singing. Jamie honed into the feel of it, the vibe. It was clearly a soft rock song. She didn't pay much attention to the lyrics until...

"She fucking hates me. Trust, she fucking hates me." The singer complained in tune with the guitars.

"Oh my fuck-" Jamie started to sputter but Mason cut in, singing over her. He'd set his cellphone face-up, propped against the gearshift so the song name, cover art and band faced them, casting a little illumination towards Mason and Jamie, but not as much as before.

"I tried too hard and she tore my feelings like I had noneee," Mason sang in a deeper tone than the singer, their voices intertwining in a complimentary way that Jamie actually enjoyed. 

She shook her head, knowing the song had been a jab at her, but in a way that brought her in on the joke. Jamie's lips curled ever so slightly into a smile as both the song and Mason continued. 

The band's name, Puddle of Mudd, scrolled across the screen and Jamie captured it in her mind. 

Mason let his voice go softer, less emphasis on making sure Jamie heard the words. It reminded her of Tia, how she'd go from singing lyrics at Jamie to just singing to herself, and Jamie both loved and hated how that made her feel. How safe it was.

Fuck, was she actually doing this? Was she making a friend? 

Somewhere inside her, a gnarled beast of a memory reminded her how Weston had been in the beginning. They'd sat side by side in his truck at first too, talking about their fathers and school and life. Then, he'd grab her thigh and recline his seat...

Jamie found herself leaning away, angling her shoulder against the door of the car. Her stomach didn't hurt yet, but she braced herself for it and waited. 

Mason continued singing to himself, his hands clasped around the back of his headrest now, eyes closed. Only his mouth and chest moved. He seemed content. Weston had always been on edge, eyes raking over her every few minutes for something he could jump on, but Mason wasn't like that. Yet.

Jamie wrapped one arm around her middle, then pressed the fingertips on her other hand to her mouth.

The song ended, then another began. Still soft rock, though clearly a different band. It started with a fast strumming, then a soft "Hey," from the lead singer. "Don't write yourself off yet."

'The Middle by Jimmy Eat World' flashed on Mason's phone screen.

Mason didn't move from his position, just continued singing along, and Jamie decided she was done worrying tonight.

They stayed like that, next to each other, listening to Mason's playlist as the world got darker around them. Some songs, she recognized. Some, she made mental note of to remember later. When the first person emerged from the church, Jamie actually felt a pang of disappointment realizing she had to go. Wordlessly, she reached for the door handle, only to be halted by a "Jamie, wait-". Mason's words filled her with deja vu, only this time, she obeyed him. 

"Can I see you this weekend?" He asked in a rush as more people filtered through the church's double-doors.

Jamie's heart ricocheted against her ribs. 

"Uh-" 

"Don't decide right now." Mason said quickly. "My number's in your journal. I wrote it under your last entry. Text me if you want."

He wanted to see her again? He wanted to text her? She couldn't even generate the proper emotion to be upset that he'd read her journal anymore.

"I'll think about it." Jamie mumbled, making sure that this time she had her book in her grip. 

When she opened the car door, Sebastian and Katie were already halfway across the lot. Jamie was glad for the darkness that hid their expressions from her. She heard Mason open his door, grunting as he shifted to his feet. He called out a gentle, "see you, Jamie," as she scurried to stand beside the church where Alex had left her, taking a purposefully wide loop to avoid Mason's friends' path.

She watched Mason flick his headlights on, Sebastian staring curiously towards her in the car's glow. Katie hopped into the front, where Mason had been sitting, and Sebastian tore his eyes away from her to climb into the back. Mason was wearing a lazy, crooked smile as he slinked into the driver's seat, his eyes pointed in her direction though she didn't think he could see her that well.

As they pulled away, Alex pulled in, driving Tia's little car.

"I had a good time." Jamie said when Alex asked, and though she'd been planning to tell him that all along, she hadn't expected to mean it.

That night, she squeezed J tightly before opening her orange journal to the last page she'd written. A barrage of feelings rampaged through her as she read over the entry there.

1. Tia's house.

2. Tia.

3. This itchy fucking diaper. Annoyed. Heavy. Sad.

4. Took my meds on time. Made fun of Dr. Theo's stupid socks.

5. Make Tia happy.

Fuck, Jamie had been away from it for so long, she'd forgotten how brutally honest she was when she wrote. She'd written about her meds? And Dr. Theo? And wearing diapers? 

And Mason read it all?

Jamie's own handwriting blurred in front of her eyes as she scanned it over and over again, the full brunt of her realization sinking in.

As Mason promised, at the bottom of the page was a slanted, unfamiliar phone number along with a short note. 

Jamie squeezed J tighter, eyes welling up with hot, embarrassed tears. 

You can be pissed that I read this. It was wrong of me to do, but I'd be lying if I said I regretted it. 

I hope you text me something mean. Or anything at all — Mason

Chapter Text

All day Friday, Mason's words rolled around Jamie's head like marbles, clunking into each other, making her stomach turn.

You can be pissed that I read this.

Like she needed permission.

I'd be lying if I said I regretted it.

Like he couldn't help himself.

I hope you text me.

Like they could still be friends after everything he knew about her.

First thing in the morning, Jamie started reading every single letter she'd ever written in that stupid orange book. She'd never done it before- never needed to. Returning to the first pages she'd written felt sort of like reopening old wounds but she tried to look at it through a stranger's eyes. After only 10 pages, she had to take a break.

It was mostly cuss words at first. For a while she had nothing to write under 'safe space' or 'support'. 'Sensations' was mostly her describing how awful the hospital was. 'Self-care' had a lot of sarcastic remarks about not being allowed to kill herself that made her cringe.

Jamie could tell the first time that Dr. Theo had given her an example of a goal, because 'cooperate with my care team' was not something she'd ever have thought up on her own. There were a lot of undated entries in the first half of the book, usually cramming a few days worth onto one page. Then, after maybe 40 pages, she'd finally moved in with Tia and the entries changed.

She paused her reading there to take her meds and eat breakfast with Tia before she left for work. Tia asked her about the workshop and Jamie told her it went okay, omitting that she spent the entire meeting sitting in Mason's car. 

Mason who she was simultaneously pissed off and not even a little bit mad at. Jamie bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face from contorting. If Tia suspected even the slightest thing off with Jamie, she'd zero in on it. 

"Do you think you'll go back?" Tia asked, thankfully oblivious to Jamie's inner storm. Cautious optimism lurked in her tone and Jamie couldn't bear to beat it down yet.

It was inevitable that their entire conversation was making her think about Mason. Mason who was waiting on her to text him. Mason who'd made her laugh. Mason who'd read her entire journal. 

Jamie shrugged, shoveling in mouthfuls of cereal to give her an excuse not to answer. Even that noncommittal reply had Tia grinning.

The woman practically skipped out of the room and back, then shoved Jamie's cellphone towards her. "Keep this then." Tia insisted. "It'll get lost if we keep it in my room."

It was 7am when Tia finally left. The second the door clicked shut behind her, Jamie dove right back into her journal. One part of her scolded herself for wasting valuable time that she could be putting towards work instead. But then...

You can be pissed that I read this.

She needed to know exactly what Mason had seen.

The second half of the journal was more structured. The writing was neater, her thoughts more collected. There were less indentations in the pages. 

At one point, she deviated from Dr. Theo's alliteration to write a page about how awful he was as a therapist. Jamie accused him of trying to brainwash her, and Jamie felt her cheeks heat as she remembered that Dr. Theo had read through her journal too. It wasn't anything she hadn't said to his face, but the written tantrum was pathetic.

By the time Jamie got back to the page with Mason's number, she decided he was right. She was pissed. He'd taken it upon himself to violate her privacy and now he thought she owed him her attention too? 

The longer she thought about it, the redder her vision got. Mason knew it was her journal when he'd scooped it up. Hell, he'd probably even noticed it before he came up for the jacket and didn't say shit. He let her leave, practically chased her out, so that he could look through what she'd written, all to satisfy some sick curiosity. Mason was no better than Sebastian, who'd followed her outside and harassed her because of some momentary 'crush'. Even worse, they both let Katie glare at her. Give her dirty looks from across the room when she hadn't even done anything to the bitch.

Jamie was fuming as she entered Mason's phone number on her cell. Fueled by anger, she typed faster than she knew she could, letting everything out and hitting send. Twice.

「Fuck you, you desperate, soft, weak, pathetic excuse of a man. You've got a pussy between those legs, don't you? Cuz you sure as shit ain't got any balls.」

「You think I give a shit what you think you know about me? Think I care that you and your sissy squad peeked through my journal? I don't give a fuck. If I ever see you again, it'll be to put my fucking fist through your stupid teeth. Might as well knock fag bag and dyke bitch off the list too while I'm at it.」

Jamie stared at the messages she'd sent, her heart thundering in her chest, and sucked in a short breath. Her guts locked up the longer she looked, a low crampy ache pooling between her hips.

「Choke and die.」

She hit send again, then shoved the phone under her pillow and flung her journal across the room. 

Jamie made it to the washroom in time to not piss herself as everything in her body tensed- including her stupid bladder. For the rest of the morning and afternoon, Jamie focused on captioning. She fucked up lines over and over, not even getting through half of what was either a seriously low-budget movie about snails or someone's high-budget school project. 

An aggravating chime started going off about an hour before Tia would be home and though Jamie tried to ignore it, it kept pulling her focus until she had to find the source. It took approximately one minute before Jamie realized it was coming from the end of her bed, beneath her pillow, emanating from the cellphone she'd stashed away.

Jamie reached over to grab it, fighting every muscle in her abdomen on the way. Swiping the screen open took two tries. She was so angry and hurt that her hands were shaking.

She scanned the screen quickly. There were two unread text messages and four missed calls.

「Jamie, I understand you're upset with me, but this is strike two. Hate speech doesn't fly here, I know your vocabulary is bigger than that, and Katie and Sebastian haven't done anything wrong.」

「I'd like to meet you somewhere to talk this out. I'll even let you take a swing, alright? Call me back.」

Jamie could practically hear the condescension dripping from each word. 

「Fuck you and your fucking fa

She was interrupted mid-sentence as the phone began ringing in her hand.

"Fuck you." She spat in greeting.

"Jamie," Mason murmured softly on the other end and out of nowhere, Jamie felt herself getting choked up. "I want to see you this weekend. Can I?"

The words were too gentle. Jamie tried to remember if there was a time when Weston had ever spoken to her so softly and couldn't. Pressure was building in her head like a shaken coke can. Anger and embarrassment and shame and guilt and pain were all sloshing around inside her and she couldn't control what spewed out.

"I hate you." She choked out around the lump in her throat. "I h-hate all of you. I- You're-"

"All of us?" Mason sounded genuinely confused. Almost defensive. "What did Sebastian or Katie do, Jamie? I know you're mad at me for what I read, but they didn't read it. Only me."

She wanted to scoff at him but it was difficult to accomplish with the swells of emotion threatening to overtake her. Tears streamed down Jamie's cheeks, salty at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, s-so Katie can h-hate me for n-no reason, and I c-can't?" 

The line went silent as Jamie sniffed, clutching her midsection with her free hand as if squeezing it could stop the throbbing ache lodged there. 

She waited a moment for him to speak. Then another. Anger bubbled to the surface again.

"Yeah, f-fuck you. I know I'm-"

Fucked up. A waste of space. Worthless. Not even good for a quick fuck. 

She couldn't pick one fast enough. The wheels in her brain were spinning now. 

"Glad I c-could entertain you. Huh? You enjoyed ripping into m-me like that? Might as well have f-fucking raped me when you h-had the chance, huh?" She forced an unconvincing laugh that sounded like a gasp.

Jamie could tell she wasn't getting enough air in. She looked around the room through blurry lenses and tried to remember what she was supposed to do when her brain was floating off- five things in the room, right?

Laptop. Bed.

Jamie blinked and her eyes stayed closed, a hiccup wrenching from her chest, the spike of pain making her cry a little harder.

Finally, Mason broke in, his voice coming out in a rush.

"Woah, Jamie. Okay, I'm- fuck, I'm sorry. God. I'm so sorry, Jamie. Is uh- Tia there? Can you call Tia?" 

Jamie had been bracing herself for more defensive remarks. Maybe some name-calling. Mason's apology took her by surprise.

"No," she moaned at Tia's name, the word dragging into her next sob. Jamie had been standing but was practically folded in half now to support herself against her bed. Being on her feet only helped her guts if she was upright but she felt too weak to straighten so she sank to her knees, leaning harder against her bed instead. 

"God, Jamie. I'm wrong, okay? I was wrong. I regret it. You can punch me so hard for this, I promise. I'll even kneel down for you to get a better shot, alright?" If Mason sounded worried before, he was a bit panicked now. She heard shuffling in the background and wondered if he was pacing.

It might've been rewarding if Jamie didn't feel like she was being wrung out like a dishrag. She sobbed an awful, wracking sob, the noise of it escaping through the fingers she had clamped over her mouth. 

"Hey, can you breathe with me, maybe?" Mason asked. She'd called him desperate before hadn't she? Well, the way he was asking her to breathe certainly was. 

"Can you tell me a safe space, Jamie?" Mason pretty much pleaded and this question she knew the answer to. It rolled out of her like water over the brim of a glass.

"Tia's house." She whimpered and Mason took an audible breath. 

"Yeah, that's good, sweetheart." He said encouragingly. No one ever called her sweetheart. "And your uh- your support?"

"Tia." Jamie's voice was wrecked and weak but he heard her.

"That's so good. She's your aunt?" He asked softly and Jamie nodded, not thinking about the fact that he couldn't see her. "You're having some big feelings right now, yeah?"

There was no irritation in his tone. No judgement. No disgust. It sounded stupid, the way he said it, but she was feeling stupid too. So, she let it slide, the baby-talking about her breakdown. “Having big feelings” was a much nicer way to describe her emotional spazz attack than anything she could've thought up.

"Yeah," Jamie finally shuddered and he hummed appreciatively.

Mason's voice was a soothing balm over her jagged edges. "That's alright." He murmured. "Let's just breathe, can we try that? Can you do that with me, Jamie?"

His gentleness made her chest throb.

Jamie pictured him there, hidden in shadows like he'd been in his car. She imagined the phone pressed to his ear, the same one she'd stared at all those album covers on, listening to Mason sing. For some reason it made it easier. When she didn't answer he began to count.

"Breathe in with me for one, two, three, four." 

Mason kept steady, easy counts that Jamie was just able to manage. She followed his instructions as he led her through a few rounds of breathing in and out.

"I'm so angry with you." Jamie croaked.

"Yeah, I'd be mad at me too," Mason answered apologetically. "I shouldn't have told you that you couldn't be angry at Sebastian or Katie either. There are no shoulds or coulds when it comes to feelings. They just are. You're allowed to feel how you feel, Jamie. I'm sorry for everything."

Jamie agreed weakly, swallowing hard. She had one cheek pressed to the mattress now, her phone resting on the other. "Yeah."

"I wanted to tell you that I don't want to hurt you, but I think I did that already, didn't I?"

Remorse. Regret. Mason was a kicked puppy, personified.

Another wave of cramps rippled through Jamie's stomach. She pressed her face harder into the mattress, stifling a whimper.

"Yeah, I broke your trust before I even had it, didn't I? That's a bad way to start a friendship." He continued, almost self-deprecatingly. "I uh, I don't want to offer this but..."

Jamie didn't know why she was still listening. She should hang up. Any self-respecting, normal person would have hung up by now, preserving whatever little dignity they had left, but Jamie was paralyzed. And she had no self-respect or dignity left to lose.

"Yeah, fuck. Okay, I think you need to take my journal and read it." Mason finished finally.

"What?" Jamie blurted.

Mason sucked in a breath like it hurt, "yeah, I think that's how we make this fair again. Or you can punch me in the face. That would suck less."

A breathless laugh squeezed through Jamie's lips. She'd meant it when she'd made the threat, but hitting Mason was seeming less appealing by the second. The thought of reading his journal however…

"What's in it?"

She heard the confusion in Mason's reply. "My journal?"

"Yeah. You saw mine, it's basically a-" fuck, this is embarrassing. "It's like a diary. What's yours like?"

Something groaned on the other end of the line, like an old recliner or bad mattress springs. It sounded like Jack's furniture. All of it complained whenever Jamie sat or stood. It was hard to picture Mason with outdated, musty chairs but then again, she hardly knew him at all.

Yet.

"Okay, I have it here. It's..." There was an unmistakable sound of pages flipping. "Well, this is where I write my excerpts for the writer's group. Sometimes I write down the prompts Leslee gives and my attempts to fulfill them. I put song lyrics that I like in here and quotes and sometimes just uh, random shit, like a grocery list. There's uh- oh. God. Some truly awful poems from when... when Sebastian tried to convert me to writing sonnets." He let out a dark chuckle and Jamie pressed her phone a little harder against her ear to absorb it. 

"I wrote about you." Mason's nervous confession made her skin prickle with awareness. She hadn't anticipated that- couldn't decide whether it was intriguing or nauseating to hear.

"Read it to me."

Mason exhaled audibly. "It's rough. I wrote it the night we met. You'll see it when I give you-"

"No, read it to me now." Jamie demanded, cutting him off. "Please."

She imagined him reading it over to himself. He probably regretted mentioning it. Jamie didn't care.

"Alright, just..." there was a weighted pause. "Alright."

Jamie said nothing. Her tears had dried, leaving her cheeks feeling tight and itchy. The snot she'd worked up was still stuck in her nose. The back of her throat. Her eyes hurt. She felt disgusting but she didn't move.

Mason's voice was deep and slow as he began, almost like a lullaby.

"Jamie, if looks could kill, you'd have maimed me before I'd ever opened my mouth. 

Wearing my jacket, I thought you'd be warm but you ripped it off like it burns you. Like you've been burned before.

You're curled and cold, fists, eyes, and nose. Angry red blotches on your skin. Under it too.

You bare your teeth when you flinch. It's a look I've seen before, but I let that barn cat maul me and I never knew its name.

Who forced this life down your throat? I'm sure you'll die coughing it right back in their face."

Jamie took a shaky breath, letting the words fill her lungs. Then, exhaled her own. "Wow, I sound like a monster."

She tried to laugh. At the same time, it crossed her mind that this was officially the longest phone conversation she'd ever had.

"You're not a monster." Mason disagreed firmly. 

"No, more like a feral cat." She mused dryly, opening her eyes to stare at her mussed, black bedsheet.

Mason made a sound like a laugh mixed with a sigh of relief. "If it helps, I like cats."

"No," Jamie replied. "Doesn't help. You are historically proven to have bad taste."

"Do not."

"Matter of opinion."

"You can't prove an opinion."

"Well, you have."

Their easy banter lapsed back into loaded silence again. If Jamie were stronger, she'd never have answered his phone call. She considered the offer to read his journal an adequate consolation prize.

"I wrote that I don't regret reading your journal because I thought that it... might've been the only way to get to know you... yeah, I am a self-entitled prick, huh?"

Jamie pressed her mouth to her mattress, muffling her laugh.

"This is what happens when you hang out with tortured, self-proclaimed writers by the way. You start romanticizing privacy violations. Dear fucking God, I'm mortified. And then yesterday, I... yeah, anything you read in this journal can't be any more embarrassing than this. I can't believe you actually texted me. I would've blocked myself and run." 

"It crossed my mind." Jamie mumbled, lips turned upwards at the corners.

"You still want to hit me?"

"The urge has lessened." She admitted, surveying her fingertips for which nail she wanted to chew.

"Mm, should I drop the journal off at a secret location for you to find? Or am I safe enough for a hand-off?"

Truthfully, Jamie had exhausted herself too much to think straight. "Ask me tomorrow." She mumbled around her index finger. Her stomach cramped again, and she stretched forward a little, ignoring the painful way her knees protested at the shift in her weight.

"You'll text me tomorrow then? Or call?"

Jamie nodded sluggishly, murmuring a soft noise of assent.

"Okay, sounds good. I don't plan on mentioning any of this to Sebastian or Katie by the way, but I do need to ask... are you actually homophobic?"

"Think you're some fag, Jamie?" 

Jamie sighed, both at Mason and at Jack's voice in her head. She didn't want to talk about this.

"I don't want to talk about this." She muttered bluntly, echoing her thoughts.

"Yeah, okay, but maybe we should."

Jamie felt a flash of irritation, pulling a 'fuck you' to the tip of her tongue. Then, Mason continued.

"Not that I'd be cool with it either way, but I'm bisexual and my friends all fall somewhere in the queer-sphere. I'm not sure if it's like a religious upbringing thing or what, but calling Sebastian and Katie fags and dykes every time you're pissed off isn't okay."

He was... what?

"You're a-"

"Jamie." Mason's voice went from soft to sharp in a second, cutting her off before she could damn herself further.

The image of Mason being bent over and railed wasn't one she wanted in her head right now but it came to mind anyway. Followed by him smashing lips with a bigger, burlier man.

"Shit." Jamie breathed.

"Men and women both have their purposes and if you can't fulfill your God-given purpose? Well, you're better off dead."

"Shut up." She muttered to herself.

"What?" Mason asked, sounding a bit wary. 

"Sorry, not you. I'm- uh, sorry."

He liked men? He did? Leather jacket wearing, smooth talking Mason?

"Don't gay people like..." Jamie's voice was raised like a question but she didn't know how to ask what she wanted to ask. "I don't know how to talk about this without being a... fuck."

"First, I'm only half-gay." He said lightly, in a way that she thought might be a joke. But wasn't that what bisexual meant? "Second, have you never met a queer person before?"

"I uh. Don't get out much." She muttered and it reminded her of her conversation with Sebastian.

"Alright," Mason replied. "Well, I won't be mad at you for asking things, but can we stop with the slurs?"

"Yeah," Jamie agreed weakly. "I'm really sorry, I'll try not to. Jack just always-" 

Saying his name was like dunking her head in ice water. Suddenly, Jamie was pushing up off the bed to her feet, making herself dizzy.

"Jamie?" Mason asked. "You okay?"

Blaming Jack again? Holy fuck, he's not even here. I am so weak and pathetic.

Her brain was at war with itself.

"No daughter of mine is a fucking dyke, do you hear me?"

"Fuck, I'm not gay. You know that, right?" A hint of panic crept into her voice.

Mason stayed quiet for a second too long. "Is that supposed to be a good thing?"

Yes. No- Fuck.

Was Jamie homophobic? Was that a bad thing? Wasn't it? 

Tia always groaned at the protesters toting signs with Bible verses, clogging up Main Street. She complained about intolerant bigots and the misogynistic rhetoric that was becoming more and more prevalent in online spaces. 

Jamie understood why Tia found the protests and Facebook posts annoying. Both affected her directly so it made sense to complain, but it wasn't like she was going and launching her own counter-protest or anything.

Jack always said the only thing worse than a faggot is the guy doing arts and crafts to complain about him, and Jamie remembered that clearly. Did she believe it too? Didn't she? Did she actually hate people for who they fucked? Did she care?

"Would it be a bad thing if you were gay, Jamie?" Mason asked quietly and Jamie let out a sharp, high laugh. That was a trick question if she ever heard one.

"Okay," Mason murmured, sounding thoughtful. "Okay, I get the feeling this is a sensitive topic, yeah?"

It wasn't. Jamie wasn't sensitive and she wasn't gay. 

"Y'know, sometimes when I'm going in circles about something, I write it down and it helps. You have your journal now, so maybe you can try that." Before Jamie could decline, he slammed the door shut on any response. "We're going to table this for now. I actually found another song I wanted to show you. Wanna hear it?"

It was obviously an easy out. She took it anyways, crawling onto her bed, the phone pressed to her ear as Mason sung softly along to a song about not needing to dance. Her bedroom door was closed and Tia wasn't home yet so she pulled J out from his crevice and hugged him tightly as she closed her eyes and listened to Mason's lulling voice. 

“Would it be a bad thing if you were gay, Jamie?”

She didn't know anymore.

Chapter Text

Jamie woke up on March 5th with a soggy ass, a cramping gut, and absolutely zero fucks to give. Before her eyes were even fully open, she'd showered and dressed herself in her baggiest, blackest clothes. Then, she whipped open her computer and started pounding at the keys, knowing full well that over half of her captions were an unintelligible mess. 

The captions were for some dubbed over anime show that seemed to have no plot. To make matters worse, the female voice actor in it had the most grating, nasally tone that had Jamie grinding her teeth. By the time Tia knocked on her door to remind her about therapy, Jamie was actively weighing the pros and cons of quitting her job completely and just punching a hole in her screen.

I owe Tia.

That con outweighed every pro.

Before Jamie faced her aunt, she knew she had to calm down. Ever since Tia refused to drive Jamie to Mason's, Jamie was writhing inside with an uncomfortable feeling she couldn't name. All she knew was that it needed a way out that didn't involve hurting Tia. With Alex already gone to work, Jamie supposed her only other target would be Dr. Theo.

Yeah, that soft lump of mashed potatoes was not ready for Jamie today.

Jamie and Tia drove in silence to the clinic, not even the radio to soothe the prickly static between them. It wasn't like Jamie had overreacted to Tia's denial, though Tia kept eyeing her like she was some explosion waiting to happen. Jamie hadn't really expected Tia to say no when she asked to meet up with someone from the writer's workshop, but it was her car and her time so Jamie accepted the refusal with a flat expression despite the inexplicable lump in her throat.

“I'm not dropping you off at some random guy's house. Are you serious?” She'd gaped at Jamie, as if her niece had suddenly grown a third eye. 

After how hard she'd pushed for Jamie to join the writer's workshop and make friends, her reply felt like a slap in the face. The way Tia had spoken to her- like she was an idiot for even asking… It turned Jamie's blood cold, tripping some wire in her brain that made it impossible to argue.

“Okay.” Jamie replied monotonely.

That had been on Saturday morning, and Jamie had felt like shit ever since. Only the thought of verbally berating Dr. Theo gave her something to look forward to today.

As they pulled off the highway into town, Jamie entered a search on her phone. 

Holidays today.

If she was going to take her frustrations out on him, she wanted to come prepared with some real ammunition. A list appeared, longer than Jamie expected. One stood out above the others, and Jamie wondered if she could find a way to work it into today's meeting.

It's Multiple Personality Day, y'know that? Too bad you don't even got one, huh, Doc?

Yeah, this would be easy.

Jamie closed her internet browser and clicked into her messages with Mason out of habit. The last one had been from yesterday, when he'd sent her a link to his Spotify playlist he'd succinctly named ‘songs’.

「For a writer, this playlist name is pretty lame.」 She'd replied. 

Mason had sent her back an eye-rolling emoji in answer, and then neither of them had said anything since.

On Saturday, Jamie had told Mason that she couldn't visit or call him, but that she could message. They'd texted back and forth, a little bit of banter that took some of the edge off of Tia's flat-out dismissal. 

On Sunday, he asked if he could come to Tia's instead. Jamie declined without even asking. 

Throughout the week, their messages grew fewer as Mason juggled back-to-back shifts at two different jobs- one at a bougie grocery store where the cashiers actually bagged your groceries and walked them out to your car, and the other at a much less bougie convenience store that was just across the street from his place.

Jamie considered messaging him something about having to go visit her stupid therapist this morning. but quickly decided not to. It wasn't like her seeing a shrink was some secret, but the thought of overlapping the Dr. Theo part of her life with the Mason part made her feel strangely uncomfortable.

Tia casting furtive side-long glances at her as she drove didn't make it easier anyway.

“Who you texting?” Tia finally asked casually.

Jamie clicked her cell off, tucked it beneath her thigh and stuck her ring finger between her teeth. “No one.” She said flatly, looking out her window.

“Well who were you texting before?”

“I was looking up what holiday it is today.”

Not a lie.

Tia made a noise like “oooh” and Jamie's shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. The silence stretched back over them again until they reached Dr. Theo's where Jamie broke it with a hurried mumbled “bye.” She was out of the car in a blink, hauling her cellphone and journals in with her.

—————

Jamie's multiple personality joke was less satisfactory than she'd hoped it would be. Instead of responding to her jab, Dr. Theo grabbed the reins and pulled their discussion in the complete opposite direction.

“You seem upset today.” Dr. Theo observed calmly, seemingly impervious to Jamie's goading. “I could be wrong, but I'm getting the sense that you're angry or frustrated with something. What's on your mind?”

“How does me telling a joke equal something being wrong, Doc?” Jamie's voice was sharp and flat, a blade poised to slice.

Dr. Theo sat back, folded his hands and gave Jamie an assessing look. “I'm curious, how did you come to the conclusion that today is Multiple Personality Day?”

“Uh, I searched it.” Jamie answered. “The internet, Doc. You heard of it?”

“What did you search to get this result?” Dr. Theo's inquisitive tone caught Jamie off-guard. She turned her eyes to the ceiling, tilting her head back in her chair.

“Okay, I lied. You do have a ‘personality’ and I can describe it in one word. Annoying.” 

The ceiling tiles above them had that white, staticky pattern that only existed in schools and hospitals and offices. Jamie knew from school that if she flung a sharpened pencil straight up, she could get it stuck in there. She dropped her gaze to Dr. Theo's desk where a small jar of pens and pencils sat and imagined reaching over and snagging it from him, and just throwing the writing implements up one by one until they all stuck.

“Have I done something in particular to annoy you today?” Dr. Theo asked and Jamie let out a groan. She couldn't stand him. It was time to be quiet now. She'd just wait him out.

In the intentional silence, Jamie's mind spun louder.

She tried to focus on the clock. The gentle, steady ticking clock behind Dr. Theo's head that kindly reminded her of the time they had left. But her inner voice was impossible to drown out. In fact, the volume on her stupid brain was increasing by the second.

Dr. Theo probably thinks I'm the annoying one. I come in here and insult him and steal journals from him and fuck up going to stupid free workshops. He probably has a whole list of my bad qualities typed up on his stupid computer. Does he think I'm gay too? 

“Do you think I'm gay?” Jamie demanded suddenly.

Dr. Theo's brows shot up in clear surprise. The expression wasn't reassuring.

“I try not to make assumptions about my clients that aren't relevant to our work together. You've mentioned having a boyfriend previously, so I know you are or were attracted to men.” He recovered, slate wiped clean. His statement was rather open-ended though and the word “bisexual” slithered out from between Jamie's lips like a question. Or a confession. 

“You're bisexual?” Dr. Theo asked to clarify. 

Maybe.

“No.” Jamie forced out, clamping her mouth shut before anything else could slip out with it.

“This seems to be a sore subject.”

Mason's voice in Jamie's head echoed Dr. Theo's sentiment. “I get the feeling this is a sensitive topic.”

“Oh my God, can you fuck off with that?” Jamie snapped around the pinky she was chewing at. Her guts were tensing now. She could feel sweat gathering in her pits and at the base of her neck. She still wanted to chuck a pencil at the ceiling. Or maybe at Dr. Theo's face.

“Which part? Sympathizing with your distress or discussing your sexuality?” Jamie's heaping pile of shit therapist prompted. 

Jamie's face twisted into the scowl that Jack had inadvertently taught her. “I'm not in distress. And I'm not a fucking dyke either. Or a half-dyke. I'm not a fucking carpet muncher.”

But she did kiss a girl once.

No. 

But-

She hadn't. She never would have. Weston had been her first kiss. Weston. Weston. 

It had been rough and invasive and tasted like cigarettes and old pennies. She'd worried it would make her pregnant, kissing Weston the way she did because he'd called it “tongue-fucking”, and Jack had told her that “fucking” causes babies, and God had made her a woman by that point, so maybe it was possible.

Then Weston fucked her for real, no protection, and she spent five days in Jack's bathtub afterwards, hardly able to sit up, praying she wasn't pregnant some more but also wondering if Jack would be happy if she was. He'd told her it was a woman's purpose to procreate and despite Gary's indifference towards him, Jack liked Weston, so even though it burned and ached and she couldn't breathe right, part of her wondered if she wanted it too. Cuz she wanted what Jack wanted. 

"No daughter of mine is a fucking dyke, do you hear me?"

So, Jamie had never kissed a girl. She didn't kiss Michaela at recess behind the slide. She didn't want to know what it would feel like. Soft lips. Bubblegum lip gloss. The faintest brush that sent her pulse thrumming. 

No, Jamie was normal.

Michaela was a dyke. She had an older sister that kissed girls too, that told her it was okay. Poisoned her. It's why Jamie came to bully her so hard. Someone had to teach Michaela what was actually right.

Before the slide event that never happened, Jamie and Michaela had sort of been friends, hadn't they? They'd sit together at lunch. And Michaela thought it was funny when Jamie would steal snacks from their classmates’ lunchboxes. Were they seven at the time? Eight? Jamie couldn't remember.

Just like how Jamie couldn't remember kissing her. That wasn't like Jamie. It wouldn't be something she could forget either. Jamie wasn't a dyke. She couldn't forget that. She couldn't-

“-ah yeah, that's a bit better, hm? This is quite effective.” Dr. Theo rambled cheerily behind her. 

The cold air that suddenly enveloped Jamie had yanked her right out of her own head and back into the room, just like before. She glanced back at the clock and saw five minutes had passed. Five minutes.

When had Dr. Theo crossed the room?

Somewhere, the heating system hummed to life. When Jamie fixed her glare back on Dr. Theo, she realized her entire body was trembling- shaking from the chill. 

“Your best solution is frostbite?” She ground out.

“Given the circumstances, yes.” 

“Fuck you.”

Dr. Theo took Jamie's hostility in stride. He didn't even blink.

“Do you recall our conversation, when I asked you about how you felt in your body when I mentioned being selfish?”

Jamie was out of ammunition. Dr. Theo took her silence as affirmation.

“I'd like to know what you're feeling when we discuss the possibility of you being attracted to women.”

“Disgusted.” She spat.

“What does disgust feel like for you?”

“Like I-” Jamie paused, her stomach cramping up as if in response. She curled an arm around herself and fisted the fabric of her shirt. “Like I could be sick. My stomach hurts. I want to- it makes me feel like I don't want to be here. Want to leave.”

“Thank you for sharing that.” Dr. Theo murmured. 

“You really thanking me for that?” Jamie asked suspiciously, tilting her chin up and narrowing her eyes.

Dr. Theo's face was solemn. “Yes. It makes a difference when you participate. I can see how hard it is for you.”

She nodded, still feeling a bit shifty, but more cold than anything. “Can we close that now?” Jamie gestured with her chin towards the window again and Dr. Theo used the mechanism to wind it closed.

“You know,” he said hesitantly, his back to her. Dr. Theo actually hesitated. He never did that. Jamie felt sharp and prickly all over. “The disgust you're describing? Sounds a lot like fear.”

Fear. Terror actually. Fuck Dr. Theo and his bull emotional voodoo shit. 

Jamie was suddenly glad his back was turned because a lump filled her throat and hot tears started to burn the backs of her eyes.

Fuck you. Jamie thought at the back of Dr. Theo's bald head, full of spite and venom. If she spoke out loud, she thought her voice might crack.

“Are you scared, Jamie?” Dr. Theo asked softly, turning towards her again.

The letter from her teacher in her backpack would get her killed. Jamie walked home on shaky legs, knowing with certainty that these steps home would be her last.

She was scared. She was fucking terrified. 

Michaela had been too. She'd burst into tears when the teacher called them out from under the slide, scared to get in trouble. Jamie had squeezed her hand then, in silent camaraderie, scowling in the teacher's face. She'd probably made it worse. It was too late for regret now though. As Jamie got closer to home, she wished Michaela could be there to squeeze her hand back.

Jamie knew that Jack would be mad. The damage she was about to do with her confession would be irreparable. She considered hiding the evidence, but she knew if she did, and Jack found that out, it would only make it worse so she didn't. She wasn't a coward. She would take her punishment like a man.

When she entered the living room, Jack was sitting alone in his armchair, no sign of Gary or anything to distract him. She handed him the letter and began clearing empty cups and cigarette butts off of their coffee table for something to do while he read it.

“Take your pants off.” Jack commanded, his voice low and calm.

Jamie didn't ask questions. She set down all the items she'd collected and dropped her jeans, her face burning with shame.

She was facing Jack from across the room, but was staring at the ground. Their carpet might've been cream-coloured once. It was crusty and dark now. 

“Did I say leave your underwear on?” Jack growled.

She forced the baggy cotton briefs down too.

“Look at yourself.” 

Jamie stared down at her scabbed, knobby knees, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Where's your dick?” He demanded. She flinched at the groan of his armchair as he stood.

Jamie's mouth was dry. Her throat was dry. She parted her lips and was surprised they didn't creak. “Don't have one-” her voice was so small.

“Pardon the fuck out of me?” Jack interrupted, his voice closer.

“I DON'T HAVE ONE-” 

Jack clamped his hand over her mouth, then whipped her around, squeezing her roughly against him. His jeans felt like sandpaper against the backs of her bare thighs.

“Oh, this is all my fucking fault, isn't it?” He whispered. Jamie shook her head and protested as hard as she could but Jack's grip only tightened. “Yeah, yeah it is.” He said gruffly. “Tried treating you like a son, and this is what I get. The slightest bit of leash and you go hang yourself with it. No, we'll fix this right now.”

And he fixed her. 

He fixed her.

“He fixed me.” Jamie's fingers clawed into the carpet, her forehead grinding into the fibers so hard it stung. She choked on the words and her snot and her tears. Everything was so hot and so cold and her stomach ached and she'd pissed herself. She could feel it in her pants as she smashed her nose against the floor and sobbed. “He fixed me. He fixed me. He fixed me. He fixed me.” 

She wished he'd killed her instead.

Chapter Text

「Five days feels a lot longer when I'm staring at your name on my screen.」

Jamie looked dully at her most recent message from Mason. After an emergency meeting with her psychiatrist, Jamie's antidepressants dosage was immediately doubled for the time being, making her head more numb than ever. At least she wasn't catatonic again.

Tia had no more sick or vacation days left to use, so despite Jamie's crashout, she had to go to work. Being able to call Jamie on her lunch break and text her throughout the day were the only things keeping her sane. Yay for having a cellphone.

Jamie didn't realize she'd been staring off into space again until her device buzzed in her hand. She refocused her eyes and saw a message from Tia flash across the screen. 

Speak of the devil.

「Hope you're having a good day! :)」

Jamie knew from experience that she had approximately five seconds to give proof of life before Tia followed up with a phone call. She quickly sent a thumbs up emoji in reply- her new favourite tool- and sighed.

Another buzz. She glanced back down and saw a second message from Mason.

「I've got a 30-minute lunch now. Going to sit in the corner and write bad poetry about being ghosted by a girl who hates me.」

Jamie read it over twice before cracking a small smile. She wasn't sure exactly why she hadn't replied to any of Mason's messages so far. General medication-induced apathy she supposed. His texts were becoming increasingly more pitiful the longer she ignored him though. 

She considered sending a response but was simultaneously too fucking tired to even type. It seemed that all of her energy was being funnelled into keeping Tia content. Still, talking with another human could be a welcome reprieve. Jamie's finger hit the phone icon next to his name before her mind even had time to think it over.

Mason answered on the first ring. “Oh, that's what does it for you, huh?” He asked lightly, sounding a little breathless.

“Just can't resist a groveling poet.” She agreed slowly and sardonically.

Mason's chuckle was almost as nice as his singing voice. “So, where you been, sunshine?”

Jamie wrinkled her nose at the name. “Suicide watch.” She muttered flatly. It took a second of silence for her to realize what she'd said.

Stupid fucking pills.

The meds scrambled Jamie's filters. 

“Shit, are you alright?” Mason breathed and Jamie cringed.

Rubbing the space between her brows, she tried to think more carefully about what she said. “Sorry, yeah, no. I'm not- that was a dramatic way of saying it. I didn't… I'm just kind of home-bound for a bit.”

In the background, Jamie heard a door opening and clicking shut and wondered where Mason was. She imagined him in some tiny closet of a break room, his shoulders nearly touching each wall. He couldn't wear his jacket on the clock, but his hair would be mussed up and his dark, glittering eyes would look the same as they had when she'd last seen him, she was sure.

“Have you tried to kill yourself before?” Mason asked bluntly. 

Jamie cringed again, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Yeah.” She admitted.

Another pause. Another audible exhale. 

“Recently?”

Was two years and five months ago considered recent?

“its been over two years.” 

“Shit.” Mason repeated. “So, uh. What landed you back on suicide watch now?”

Something crinkled on Mason's end. A wrapper or some sort of garbage, distracting her from her response. “It happens occasionally. Usually just cuz of my therapist, I guess.” 

“Ah, got it.” He murmured through a mouthful of something. Then, more brightly, “so you're all traumatized too! Hey, you found the right writer's group. If you ever come back again that is.”

Jamie laughed in spite of herself. “Yeah, I wouldn't hold your breath.” 

Mason was clearly eating lunch. And rather noisily at that. “Oh, well Sebastian misses you.”

“No he does not. I was so mean to him.”

“That's not a deterrent.” Mason said through another bite. He chewed, swallowed, then continued. “He's got a thing for mean mommies.”

Mean-

“He's got a thing for what?” Jamie sputtered.

“Mean mommies. Y'know, the whole dominant bully kind of woman with a secret maternal side type of thing? Are you not into that?” Mason's voice was playful as he spoke, but Jamie thought there was some seriousness to it too.

“Ew, no.” She answered and Mason hummed around another mouthful.

“Hey, don't yuck someone's yum. I told him you weren't the mommy type anyway.” He said, sounding somewhat self-assured.

“Oh really? So what ‘type’ am I then?” Jamie asked mockingly.

This time, Mason seemed to be drinking something. Chugging it actually. He made a satisfied smacking noise before replying. 

“At first, I thought you were a brat.” He said thoughtfully and Jamie wondered what that was supposed to imply. “But now, I'm thinking maybe all that push-back you give is just a defense mechanism and you don't really enjoy it.”

Jamie gaped at his assessment, certain that it was meant to be insulting somehow.

“I'm curious to see what you're like without that guard up.” Mason admitted as she was still reeling from the first half of what he said. “I think under all this tough exterior you put on, there might be a softer, sweeter version of you that just needs some gentle care given to her for once.”

He was using the voice again. Jamie couldn't tell if it was on purpose or not, but Mason was using his low, soothing “big feelings” voice and it was making Jamie's heart squeeze.

She wanted to deny it. She was supposed to deny it now, wasn't she? Shouldn't she? Jamie wasn't soft. She wasn't putting on an act. She was just a bitch. A bully. Mason was wrong. She should… she should tell him he's wrong.

Mason had stopped snacking. Jamie was hardly breathing. For several beats, they sat in tense silence.

“Am I wrong, sweetheart?” Mason crooned like he could read her mind. Jamie felt her face flush. Then, his voice turned more serious. “Am I teasing you too hard? You can tell me to stop.” 

“No.” Jamie blurted and then had to pick up Tia's throw pillow and press it against her face as the rational side of her brain caught up to her.

These fucking pills.

 “You're wrong I mean. I'm not… I'm not sweet. Or soft.”

“I guess I'll find out.” Mason mused and Jamie's heart stuttered. “Can I call you again? Tonight, after work?”

Jamie thought about Tia and sighed. “Probably shouldn't.” 

“Does your aunt really hate me that much?” Mason asked, sounding more than a little bit dejected.

Jamie didn't think so. “Pretty sure she just uh, doesn't trust me.” 

“Alright, well that's unfortunate. I was planning to serenade you all evening.”

From the tone of his voice, Mason was kidding but Jamie still felt a clench of real disappointment knowing that she wasn't going to be able to hear him again until tomorrow.

“You did put me to sleep last time.” Jamie tried to say lightheartedly but it came out a bit sadder than intended. She felt a bit like her teddy, J, with his sad little eyes. Like this time, she was the one being crammed into a crevice. 

“Yeah,” Mason murmured. “Hey, maybe you could call me later tonight and I could just sing or talk until you fall asleep again? You wouldn't have to say anything so your aunt won't overhear.”

Jamie lifted a hand to her lips as if she were preparing to catch whatever stupidity might come stumbling out. 

“Really?” She asked weakly and Mason's responding chuckle was low and soft.

“Sure, why not? I love hearing myself talk. Plus, Seb and Katie are both busy tonight so I'd be lonely otherwise. And, if it helps you sleep, then it's like a win-win for me because I also love helping people.” 

In her head, Jamie was already mapping out the logistics. She'd sit with Tia in the afternoon until dinner, when Alex got home. She'd bring her plate to her room, like usual, then trade the empty dish for her pills. She'd get ready for bed a little early, like she'd been doing for the past few days. No one would suspect that she was sitting silently on the phone in the dark with “some random guy”.

“Plus, it's interesting when you talk in your sleep.” Mason's add-on caught Jamie's attention, jerking her back into their conversation.

“What? I do not-”

“You do.” Mason interrupted smugly. “About an hour in, you started murmuring. Names mostly. Jay, Tia, Weston, Mason. You asked for Jack. I'm not going to lie, I was taking notes.”

“Okay, we're officially not doing that again.” Jamie mumbled, horrified.

“Oh, c'mon!” He protested. “Listen, I still feel like we're uneven after the whole journal thing. If you let me stay on the phone with you again, I'll read more of my writing to you.”

The offer was generous. Jamie could never read her own entries out loud like that. She mulled it over for a moment, then let out a sigh.

“Fine, but I better hear some awful poetry.” Jamie grumbled and Mason gave a cheer on the other end.

“That's the only kind I know.” He vowed. 

As they said their goodbyes, Jamie's head was a little clearer, like their banter had parted the fog. The plan they'd laid, to call again around 8pm, helped orient Jamie for the rest of the day. Waves of numbness continued to lap over her, but they receded too.

By 7:30, Jamie was a little keyed up, gnawing her nails as she watched the minutes flash by on her alarm clock. Her journal was splayed open on her lap. She'd planned to follow her routine, but she was having a hard time looking at the blank lined pages. Writing in the book after Mason had been through it felt different. The first two times, she'd found herself editing her thoughts as she wrote them, like someone else might come and take a peek at any moment. It was suffocating and kind of defeated the purpose of the exercise in the first place.

7:31pm. She couldn't just stare at the clock until eight.

Reluctantly, she forced herself to pick up her pen and press it to the paper.

1. Tia's house.

Easy. See? She'd done this before.

2. Tia.

The response looked smaller than usual. Incomplete somehow. Would Mason fall under this category too?

Jamie chewed a hangnail off her thumb as she considered it. They were friends now, weren't they? The word was foreign, but she could adapt. Friends could be a source of support. It didn't mean anything. Nothing would change if she just wrote his name. He wouldn't have to know.

She scribbled it quickly, messily. Mason. For some reason, it made Jamie's heart race. She moved on.

3. Fast heartbeat, cool bedsheets. It still smells like chicken even though dinner’s been over a while. I still taste it in my teeth. It's quiet. Tia and Alex are watching a show in their bedroom. Something with dumb music and a laugh track. I'm waiting for my phone to light up with a text. I shift and my stupid diaper swooshes, reminding me it's there. My fingertips hurt a little. I've bitten them too short again but I can't stop. My stomach doesn't hurt at least.

4. Took a day off typing to rest my brain. Ate meals. Drank water. 

Jamie glanced up at her alarm clock. 7:46pm. She tapped her phone to wake it, then flipped it over when no message showed. Patience was not Jamie's strong suit.

Eyeing her closed door, she reached down the wall to grab J and pulled him into the crook of her neck.

“He's taking too long.” Jamie whispered against the bear’s fake fur. Her annoyance was half-hearted at best. Then her phone vibrated, and even the half-annoyance melted away.

「Almost done. I hope you're ready for my well-deserved humiliation ritual.」

Jamie's lips curled into a smile.

「You bet.」

After a moment with no reply, she turned back to her journal. 

5. Be normal tonight.

Mason's responding text came a few minutes later.

「Call me when you're ready.」

Jamie turned her light off quickly and climbed back into bed, her cellphone in hand. In the dark, she pressed her lips against J's soft fur, squeezed her eyes shut and breathed deeply through her nose until her nervousness eased. Then, she clicked the phone icon and listened to it ring.

Once. Twice. Three times. Jamie swallowed, preparing for disappointment, when Mason finally picked up. 

“Hey! Sorry about that, I was just changing out of my work clothes.” Mason said, voice a bit distant like he was away from his phone.

Jamie nearly replied but caught herself before any sound escaped. She could still faintly hear Tia and Alex's show playing in their room and knew if she were to speak, they'd overhear. She wondered if Mason could hear her breathing. 

“Give me one second,” he called breathlessly. Jamie had no choice but to wait quietly. She listened as it sounded like a door opened and closed on Mason's end. Then, so faintly she wondered if she were hearing things, she swore she heard… Sebastian… muffled in the background. 

No, she was being paranoid. Mason had told her his friends were busy. He wouldn't have them over and then spend his time talking on the phone with her, would he?

As the silence stretched on, a nagging, insidious thought began to creep into Jamie's mind.

This is a trick. This is all somehow an elaborate joke, and I'm about to be the butt of it, aren't I?

Her grip on J had slowly turned suffocating. Jamie released him slightly and tried another breath. It was shallower than the last. She was trying too hard now.

What was Mason doing anyways? Was there someone else there?

Jamie clicked her cell on. Three minutes had passed now. The line was dead silent on Mason's side. Sweat dripped down her sides. The last time she'd felt this uncertain type of nervousness was… she couldn't exactly remember when. 

Fuck.

Mason was really playing a game with her. Or she was being an idiot. Both options made her fists clench in anger. She couldn't believe she'd written him down in her journal. Him? As her support? What a joke. 

Jamie swiped open her messages with Mason and began to type.

「If you don't want to do this, you could've just said so.」

She hit send, then heard the chime on his phone and waited. Tears began prickling behind her eyes. A second later, she heard a door opening and closing once again and then shuffling noises.

“Sorry Jamie, I had to make sure we won't be interrupted.” Mason said, his voice growing louder as he approached. He paused, and Jamie imagined him picking up his phone and reading her message. Her face heated with the thought. “Jamie,” Mason murmured lowly. “Shit, sweetheart. I didn't mean to leave you hanging here. I do want to do this, okay? That's why I offered.”

Mason's reassurances helped and didn't at the same time.

Liar. A part of her snarled and Jamie had to clench her jaw to keep the word in. At the same time, she found herself rubbing J's face against her cheek, self-soothingly. 

“I don't like not knowing what's going on with you.” Mason suddenly sighed. “Can you send me a message? Anything?” He let his wordless anticipation linger in the space between them.

「Sorry.」 Jamie wrote simply and Mason clicked his teeth disapprovingly. 

The sound made Jamie freeze. How was she fucking this up already? All she wanted was one normal night. Couldn't she just be-

When Mason interrupted her spiraling thoughts, it was with that damn special tone again that made her brain feel like it might melt into a puddle. “Sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong.” He told her firmly. “I think it might help if we could see each other's faces. Can I move this to a video call?”

The headphones that came with Jamie's cellphone were sitting on her bedside table. After plugging them in, Jamie rolled onto her side, tucked J under her arm and pulled her blankets to her chin. It was dark. He wouldn't be able to see her except from whatever light her screen provided, but she'd be able to see him. It surprised her to realize she actually kind of wanted to see his face again.

「Okay.」

Jamie heard the notification chime on Mason's end and then her phone began buzzing with his video call request. She quickly accepted and the image of Mason's face filled her screen.

“Hey, there you are,” he murmured. In the bottom corner, Jamie could see her own face, eyes squinted, bottom lip tucked between her teeth. A few strands of messy hair fell awkwardly across her forehead. Seeing herself, Jamie quickly released her lip, replacing it with her thumbnail after she brushed her hair into some semblance of order. Mason's mouth softened from a grim line to a small smile as he watched her, though his brows stayed drawn together. Jamie looked like an idiot chewing her thumb but she found herself too distracted with the glint in Mason's dark eyes that reflected the light of his phone screen to care.

“This is a lot, isn't it? It's okay to be nervous. It's nice to see your face again.” Mason said gently, making Jamie noticeably flush. At least, he seemed to notice, his smile widening. 

The bright lighting in Mason's room made his complexion paler, his hair and eyes contrasting more harshly against it. She wondered what he thought of her. What details he observed on his dimly lit screen.

Mason seemed to be sitting alone. He propped his cellphone up and sat back, allowing her to see more of his white t-shirt covered torso and shoulders. Reaching out of frame, he suddenly pulled a journal into view.

“So, I want to give you three options on how we can do this.” Mason began, his face growing serious as he flipped to the first page in his thin dark blue notebook. The expression made Jamie's guts flutter, threatening to clench up. She was still working her thumbnail. 

“First option, I can give you some context before we start. Only thing is, it might be a bit depressing

 Triggering.” He swallowed hard then glanced up at his screen. Jamie curled her thumb into her fist and squeezed J under the blanket. 

“Second option, I can just read through, no context. You can text me if you have questions or something but otherwise, I'll just read. Or third, I can just skip past anything that I think is heavy. I wanted to give you the options because you've obviously been having some down days and I don't want to make anything worse. You can just raise some fingers or text what you want though, yeah?”

Jamie's lip worked its way back between her teeth. Option number one was what she wanted, but it seemed like a big thing to ask. Then again, he'd taken her journal and read it without even considering what she wanted in the first place. 

Hesitantly, she held up her index finger.

“Context?” Mason asked and she nodded. He blew air out then nodded as well. “Alright, I won't be too graphic but if you're uncomfortable at all, just text something or cover your camera, okay?”

Jamie nodded again and Mason closed his journal. “Well, we met through the workshop, so you've probably already guessed that someone beat me around.” He kept his tone light but the words were clipped as they came out. It startled Jamie, for him to speak so bluntly like that, but she had asked for context. And she had made that assumption.

At first, Jamie had wondered briefly if maybe Mason had been there simply as support for Sebastian. Mason was so cool and collected after all- a real man's man. But Weston had been a real man too, and his father had beat him around when he could, so Mason's confession wasn't that hard to believe. Jamie listened intently as Mason took a breath and dived right in.

“My mom had me when she was young. I never knew who my father was, only that he knocked her up and ran. She had my sister, Beth, a few years later. I hardly remember Beth's dad, but he was fine I guess. He'd come here for work and to visit her, but he lived in the States. If my mom could've she would've moved us to be with him in a heartbeat. She was so in love with him and she said he loved her too, but my mom's mom was sick here and neither of them could compromise about where they lived, so it didn't work out. And then, when I was about eight and Beth was five, our mom started seeing Derek.”

Mason said the name like a swear. Like it left a residue over his tongue that he needed to spit. It reminded Jamie of how Jack sometimes talked about her mother. The way his eyes would harden and his mouth would pucker as he spoke of her. 

Jamie suppressed a shiver staring at Mason on the screen. Part of her expected to see the same face of disdain on Mason, but instead he looked… blank. As if someone had scraped the life out of his features. Beneath the surface, there was a hollowness that Jamie had never seen in him, like staring into an abyss, and it scared her in a different way entirely.

Mason was silent for a moment. 

「Stupid name.」 Jamie typed, feeling a desperate tug to somehow try and fill the void in Mason's eyes. A chime sounded on the other end, her message received. Mason flickered back to life at the noise, leaning forward to read her text, and Jamie was grateful when a small smile tugged his lips.

“Stupider guy.” He said. Jamie watched carefully for the hollow look to return as Mason pressed on. “Derek was abusive. Verbally, physically, financially. Had no job, but for some reason, he got to control the house finances.”

Mason looked down at the notebook in his hands, his knuckles bleached white from how hard he gripped it.

He looks like me in therapy. Jamie thought to herself bitterly. Then, tensed in discomfort as the weight of that thought settled over her.

Fuck, was she being Dr. Theo right now?

「You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to.」 She texted quickly. 

Mason smiled appreciatively, his shoulders rising with another controlled breath. He relaxed noticeably in his hands, jaw, and shoulders as he exhaled and Jamie felt her own body mirroring his.

“Thanks sweetheart,” he murmured. “I know. I want… I want you to know. It's easier if I get it all out at once, but if it's too much for you…”

Mason trailed off, dark eyes roaming over his screen. Over her face.

Jamie made a thumbs up and Mason's smile flashed again before dissolving. 

“The first time he hit my mom in front of us, I lost it. I don't remember why he did it or what I was doing but I attacked him and he… Well, he hit me too.” 

Jamie could tell Mason was putting it lightly for her sake. He assessed her in every pause, scanning her reaction. 

“The physical abuse wasn't constant but it did escalate. Then, one day I…” There was hesitation in Mason's voice. He swallowed hard, eyes shifting back and forth as if he were reading his confession in the air.

“I came home from school and the house was quiet. Too quiet. See, my mom was the kind of person that was always making noise. It pissed Derek off so much. She'd have music playing or she'd be on the phone or be just humming to herself. So that silence? As soon as I walked in and heard that awful quiet, I just knew. I sent my sister to the neighbour's house and when I went into our living room, there she was. Just dead on the living room floor. And Derek was gone.” Mason said it all so matter-of-factly that Jamie questioned at first if she'd heard him right.

“Sorry, there's no nice way to say that.” Mason murmured. Jamie's eyes had widened, her face frozen in an expression of shock. She shook her head gently.

「I'm sorry Mason, that's awful.」 She messaged and Mason read it with a sigh.

“Yeah, it is. I've done tons of therapy now though. My grandparents put me and Beth into it right away, so we were luckier than most. According to the detective on my mom's case, her death appeared accidental. It looked like he'd slapped her or maybe shoved her and she hit her head on the coffee table on her way down. He'd given her so many concussions, it was more than her brain could take.”

Jamie's stomach turned at the mental image. She waited for Mason to harden. To hollow out like he had before. She thought she should say something but he was already pushing on.

“Beth lives with her dad in the States now but she visits when she can. The cops never located Derek- he probably found some other single mom to abuse. Anyway, that's like the gritty details of it all. A lot of my writing centers around processing that, which means it can be a bit heavy at times. I've written about not remembering my mom's last words to me. Finding her there. My sister's face when I told her what happened. Some of the things Derek used to say to me. What I'd like to do to him if I ever found him…”

As Mason trailed off, expression slipping again, back into whatever dark void he'd worn before. Thankfully, he bounced back quickly without any prompting. 

Jamie couldn't say the same for herself though. With each word Mason spoke, Jamie's body tensed further and further, cold sweat pebbling on her skin. She felt frozen though she wasn't quite sure why. It was just so… visceral. Imagining little Mason being hit by some grown man… Him coming home to find his mom's lifeless body…

“So, I guess I'll just start reading now.”

Jamie's stomach was twisted in a dozen brutal knots. They climbed up her chest into her throat, settling there, making it hard to swallow. Hard to breathe. It was… guilt, maybe? Or… pity? She wasn't sure what emotions choked her but she found her hands curling into fists. If she could have ripped the feelings out of her chest, she would've.

Mason started reading softly, a piece about autumn leaves like rust-coloured blood- the irony of “fall”. It was raw and real and suddenly Jamie didn't want to hear his voice anymore.

Pathetic. He's doing what you told him to. You made him tell you all of that. It happened to him, not you. You don't get to cry about this bitch! Man up you fucking pussy! You were raised stronger than this. What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen!

She couldn't. Mason painted a vivid picture but the colours were just running together in her mind. Was she holding her breath? Jamie's whole chest was starting to hurt. Her gut was cramping too. And Mason's voice was just there. Funneling through her ear buds directly into her head. Inescapable. 

He probably thinks something bad like that happened to you. You tricked him, didn't you? He shared all that with you because he wants to be even again but you won't be, because bad stuff like that didn't happen to you. 

“Jamie?” 

Fuck.

“Hey, you okay? Want me to stop?”

Jamie didn't know how to answer that. She couldn't tell what the right answer was.

「Whatever you want.」 She managed to type. To her great embarrassment, tears began welling in her eyes, shiny and obvious on the screen.

“Awh, see?” Mason murmured, setting his journal aside and picking up his phone to hold her closer. He sounded remorseful. “You said you're not soft and sweet, but you are on the inside, aren't you?” 

Jamie shook her head adamantly, blurring Mason's sad smile.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let's talk about something else, huh?” He suggested softly and Jamie squeezed her eyes closed, wondering if she'd ever be normal around him. She had one goal tonight- one easy goal- and she was failing miserably. 

「You can just hang up if you want now. Unless you don't want to.」

「Sorry.」

「I didn't mean to make you talk about all this stuff.」

「I didn't ever have anything like that happen to me, you know that, right?」

Shit, what am I DOING?

Jamie flipped her phone face down on the mattress quickly, ripping her headphones out at the same time.

“Fuck.” She whispered to herself, winding a hand around her own throat. The instinct came to Jamie naturally, as if her body knew she needed to shut herself up. She squeezed her neck once, right over the lump at the back of her tongue, her fingers digging into flesh. A wave of dizziness rolled over her and she relished in the distraction for a moment before releasing.

Somewhere in her sheets, Mason's voice rumbled up through her headphones. She fished an ear bud out and shakily held it up.

“-here, Jamie.” Mason said firmly. “Whenever you're ready, okay? You can hang up and message if that's easier.”

She felt like an idiot. A self-absorbed, foolish, overreacting idiot. Jamie shoved the ear bud back in. Slowly, she flipped the phone up too, laying it flat so that Mason was pointed to the roof.

“Hey, that's a bit better. Missed me huh, sweetheart?” He asked. 

“No.” She mumbled trying to be quiet enough that Tia or Alex wouldn't hear.

“You have a great voice, you know that?” Mason said cheerily, completely unscathed by her rejection.

“Liar.” Jamie muttered under her breath, her cheeks turning warm.

Mason chuckled. “Aren't you supposed to be quiet, angel?” He asked rhetorically and Jamie's mouth slammed shut.

No one ever called her sweetheart or baby or angel or any of the soft things Mason did. At least not without being condescending. Her brain didn't know how to handle it.

“You didn't make me talk about anything I didn't want to talk about, you know.” 

Yeah, sure.

“I have a selfish request. You can say no but I am prepared to plead. Can you show me your face again?” Mason's voice already had an edge of desperation to it as he asked. 

Jamie slipped her index into her mouth to gnaw the nail and tilted her phone towards herself, no longer giving a shit what she looked like.

Mason's expression morphed from pinched to searching to something a touch more relaxed. “You're so generous with me.” He said, sounding rather pleased. Jamie paused to scowl, then balled her hand into a fist and tucked it by her chest.

“I'm not judging, but are you sucking on your fingers? Earlier, you looked like you were zoning out, maybe sucking on your thumb a bit.”

Jamie's face heated to the tips of her ears. “No!” She exclaimed loudly. Too loudly. She held her breath for a moment after, waiting for the telltale creak of floorboards in the hall but it never came.

Mason raised an eyebrow, putting a hand up in mock defense.

“Hey, it's okay. I believe you. You were chewing your nails then?” He clarified. Jamie nodded furiously. “Doesn't that hurt your fingers?”

She shrugged. It did sometimes. They were always kind of tingly and achey but so was the rest of her. 

“That's how you self-soothe though?” Mason prompted further and Jamie furrowed her brows in confusion. He must've read the question on her face. “When you're feeling stressed or upset, does it help?” He asked.

Jamie gave another half-shrug, half-head shake. It didn't make her feel any better. It was just a habit. It bugged her if she couldn't act on the urge, but it didn't provide relief when she was already feeling bothered by something else. Jamie wondered if that's how smoking was for Tia.

“Hm. Is there anything you do just to feel good?” 

Jamie's mind immediately darted to J, who was still buried beneath her blankets. Her cheeks flushed again and Jamie wondered if they'd eventually get stuck like that. Hot and flaming red. 

“I'm only asking because I want to ask you to do something self-soothing before I put you to bed. I won't be able to sleep knowing I upset you and left.” Mason let out a sigh and then added self-deprecatingly, “again.”

Jamie curled inwards. She squeezed J beneath the blankets, slowly dragging him upwards.

I won't show him… I won't actually show him. But…

「I have one thing.」 She typed with one hand.

“What's that?” Mason asked. Jamie searched his face for some trace of malevolence or cruelty- for any reason not to trust his sincerity after everything he'd shared with her. 

It will make him feel better, a weak foolish part of her insisted. He won't hurt us. He doesn't want to hurt us.

Jamie's inner voice did that sometimes. It segmented into “you"s and “us"s as if she weren't one single person, but a whole group of sniveling idiots poorly piloting a shared skin suit. 

Without giving herself a chance to argue back, she lifted her teddy, pulling him into Mason's view.

The room fell silent for a beat. Two. Jamie hugged the stupid toy to her chest, hiding it in her arms and waited. 

“You have a teddy bear? What are you, five?” 

She could imagine the cruel sneers already. She was breaking her own rules now.

“What's its name?” Mason asked instead and Jamie exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

「His name's J.」

A sudden tear slithered down her cheek. She rubbed it into her blanket before Mason could notice. 

“Well it's very nice to meet him.” Mason said sweetly. “He looks really soft.” 

That did it. Mason's words broke the dam Jamie had built up and all at once, tears streamed from her eyes. She ducked her head, pressing her brows into her bicep, her lips on J's head stifling her gasps.

“Awh, hey sweetheart, it's okay.” Mason cooed. Jamie's mic was right by her mouth, probably picking up the shaky sounds of her muffled sobs. She moved it away. “You're okay, Jamie. It can be scary to share stuff like that but you're safe. You're doing such a good job, angel. I feel a lot better seeing you've got J to cuddle tonight. Thank you for sharing him with me.”

It didn't make any sense. He was comforting her. He was comforting her. And she liked it. It was helping. Some sickly pathetic part of Jamie was feeding off of it. Calming from his words. She pressed her face harder into her arm and the thought flashed in her mind of what it might be like if it were Mason's arm instead. If she could press her face to his chest…

He was still murmuring gentle, foolish nonsense as her heaving breaths slowed. He asked her to give her bear a little squeeze for him and she did. He asked her to take some deep breaths with him and she obeyed that too. Between her meds and her crying jags, her brain had gone fuzzy around the edges.

“It's been a long day. How about you close those big brown eyes? Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”

Jamie's eyes fluttered closed on command.

“Yeah, just like that. I'm going to put some music on now and you're going to get some rest and we'll talk more in the morning. You're so good, Jamie. Have sweet dreams.”

I'm not good. I'm not sweet. The half-hearted protests swelled up but never made it past her lips.

Mason's music played soft and low. He hummed over it, singing along to lyrics Jamie didn't know until sleep finally pulled her under.

Chapter Text

“You can bring it back out, you know.” Jamie huffed, crossing her arms and settling back into her seat. She was staring pointedly at the empty space on Dr. Theo's shelf where his calendar was supposed to be

Dr. Theo looked up from the notes he'd been typing. “Bring what back out?” He asked, sounding confused. He was dressed in grey today, his shirt nearly as dark as Jamie's. They almost matched- a fact that had Jamie wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Okay, we're playing dumb then.

“Your-” don't say stupid. “- desk calendar thing.” Jamie said, throwing a hand up towards where it had always sat. “C'mon aren't you supposed to be celebrating shit? Like woohoo, it's World Glaucoma Day. Where's your t-shirt?”

Yeah, that was real nice, Jamie. Way to go, now he's definitely going to bring it back.

Dr. Theo lifted his hands from his keyboard and set them on his desk. “You've been making note of some rather obscure holidays recently. Does it bother you that I've removed the calendar?”

Jamie sighed and slouched in her chair.

“I told you I'm sorry for it or whatever. You can- you can put it back, that's all I'm saying. I won't talk about it again.” 

She felt like an insolent child, and she supposed in Dr. Theo's eyes, she probably was one. Hating the thought, she turned her glare towards the window instead. 

Outside, the snow was just barely starting to melt. The snowbanks were growing less and less in the evenings and were glazing over during the day, sweating under the insistent spring sun. It was Jamie's favourite time of year. Not because of the impending thaw, the influx of chirping birds, or the fact that her birthday was next week. It was her favourite time of year because after the dreadful reminder of her birth, there would be no more holidays until Canada's Day in July. Just a peaceful stretch of nothingness, since Tia and Alex didn't celebrate Easter or Mother's Day or Father's Day. 

The last of the Christmas decorations had finally been boxed up and Jamie was glad for the days of Christmas lights, unreciprocal gift giving, and festivities to be well behind her.

“Jamie, the calendar wasn't put away to punish you.” Dr. Theo said carefully. “Do you recall the last time we talked about it?”

Jamie didn't answer. Not even a shift of her shoulders.

“When someone is provoked into a reaction as extreme as what you experienced two months ago, I don't take it lightly, Jamie. In that instance, we'd been discussing your nightmares, which is a clearly loaded topic. I noticed you seemed to be struggling and tried to pivot to a lighter, unrelated subject but I didn't take into account how discussing trivial celebrations following such an intense flashback could come across as ignorant or possibly dismissive. Sometimes when we're working through heavier trauma, we can inadvertently develop or make new connections to existing triggers. During our next session, while you were in that catatonic state, you stared at the calendar the entire time. I took it down to eliminate what might've inadvertently become a reminder of a trigger for you.”

Jamie half-listened to Dr. Theo's long-winded explanation. “You act like I'm traumatized.” She complained, picking at her fingernails.

“Jamie, you have PTSD.”

“Oh my God, stop with that shit.”

Dr. Theo raised one bushy grey brow. “Would you like to revisit the assessment?” 

“Fuck no.” She glanced back outside, then at the clock. PTSD. Jamie vaguely recalled a discussion they'd had about it over a year ago but the details were fuzzy. It was before her meds were balanced. Maybe around the time she'd started living with Tia. Had he really diagnosed her with that too? “You really think I have that?”

Dr. Theo gave her a look, like “I just said that, didn't I?” Then, started typing on his computer.

Annoying prick.

PTSD didn't sound right though. That was for veterans and mass-shooting survivors and shit. Maybe he was mixing up her BPD symptoms with it. Dr. Theo was an idiot after all.

Jamie asked him just that and was rewarded with more typing followed by a brief lecture and a dumping of reading material for her to take home- something about the comorbidity statistics for BPD and PTSD. One page in an article showed a venn diagram, exhibiting how symptoms could overlap.

“See this middle section here? That's you.” He explained.

Jamie ripped her ring fingernail to shreds as he spoke, thinking distantly about an offhand comment Mason had made. “So you're all traumatized too!”

She'd ignored it before but it nagged at her now, as Dr. Theo basically spelled out how exactly right Mason was. Or how good Jamie was at tricking people…

“Jack wasn't that bad.” She murmured behind her hand, staring into the open air between her and Dr. Theo's desk.

Dr. Theo stayed silent but she could feel his awareness all around. It wasn't an “I'm ignoring you” or “I didn't hear that” kind of quiet but a deliberate tactic he was employing to get her to elaborate.

She wouldn't. She didn't need to. It was clear, wasn't it? Dr. Theo was a soft man but he was also older than Jack. He would've been raised at a proper time, when parents weren't thrown under the bus for disciplining their children old-school style. Maybe Dr. Theo's parents didn't hit him hard enough. Maybe that was the problem.

“You and Tia. You guys act like… like it was a bad thing. The way Jack raised me. You know that?” Jamie glanced up, right into Dr. Theo's bright eyes. The grey in his shirt made his blue irises stand out more than usual. She didn't want to notice it but she did, and it made her wonder if her eyes ever looked different depending on what she wore. Her dark brown eyes. The eyes she'd inherited from Jack.

“How did he raise you?” Dr. Theo asked and Jamie sighed. 

Yep, back to playing dumb.

“You know,” she mumbled. “The right way. He disciplined me properly. Made me behave when I acted out.”

Dr. Theo hummed. Jamie expected him to start typing, but he sat back and steepled his fingers instead. 

“Can you give me an example of the right way for a parent to discipline a misbehaved child? Say a child won't clean up their toys. How should a parent handle that?”

“Well, he probably would have like…” Jamie tried to think of a similar time. She never really had toys to make a mess of but she had refused to tidy the living room once. Jack had grabbed her by the hair and forced her onto her knees. Made her kneel in the cigarette butts on the carpet that she didn't pick up. Yelled so loudly in her ear that it started to ring. Then, when she reached down to collect them, he'd stomped on her fingers. It had been effective but she knew she'd describe it badly. Jamie's guts knotted, squeezing threateningly. She wished Jack were here.

“You don't have to tell me what Jack would have done.” Dr. Theo said carefully. “Just give me an idea of what any good parent might do.”

I don't want to do that.

Jamie worked her fingers into her scalp, then grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged. It distracted her from the tension building in her stomach. Dr. Theo ignored her, waiting patiently.

“I guess they'd probably spank the kid.” She said finally. “Yell at them. Take their stuff away. Give them more chores.” 

“Do you think Tia would be a good parent?” Dr. Theo asked. 

Jamie eyed him warily, smelling the set-up but unsure of what direction he was edging towards. He knew what Jamie would say. Tia was good at everything.

“Yeah, but she's not my mom or something.”

“Do you think she would spank her children?”

Shit, I walked right into that.

Numbness spread low in her belly. It was annoying, how her body could just fluctuate between feeling too much to feeling nothing at all. Either way, she couldn't trust her systems. Jamie stood up and walked around her chair to the window that Dr. Theo had opened before.

Dr. Theo was doing this on purpose, that evil, stupid asshole. Pitting her two favourite people against one another to make some dumb point. She scowled and crossed her arms, glaring outside at the empty park.

“Yeah.” She spat.

Dr. Theo tilted his head. “Really? Tia doesn't come across as the type. Has she spanked you?”

Jamie gaped at him. Sputtered. “I already- no- I mean, of course she hasn't-”

“Does she spank her students at school? I imagine they aren't all perfectly behaved pupils.”

Jamie's face began to warm. She should've known better than to respond to this at all. This wasn’t a battle she wanted to fight. Dr. Theo was being unfair.

She gritted her teeth as a spasm of pain brought on a steady cramp. Fuck this. Fuck everything.

“So what, Doc? What's your point? Jack was a bad dad and he fucked me up? That it? Cool. Think what you want.”

Jamie didn't care. It didn't matter what he thought. She ripped some skin on her thumb with her teeth.

“It seems like the idea that I might think Jack was a bad father upsets you.”

God, this guy is relentless.

“I think you want me to be upset.” Jamie countered angrily, still refusing to look towards him. She leaned against the window frame, standing so closely her breath began fogging up the glass, but it didn't matter. There was nobody out there. Nothing to even look at.

Jamie waited for Dr. Theo's denial. For him to sigh and apologize and tell her he was being too harsh. She stood, knees locked, body rigid, staring into nothing in anticipation.

“No Jamie, I don't want you to be upset. Can you think of any other reasons why we may be having this conversation?”

Jamie whirled around instantly. “Cuz you hate Jack.” She said annoyed. 

“My personal feelings towards Jack aren't a motivation for this discussion.”

Jamie narrowed her eyes, searching Dr. Theo's solemn expression. “You didn't deny it.”

Dr. Theo's lips twitched. She'd caught him out. He cleared his throat and Jamie recognized it as a stalling tactic. He was trying to think of what to say. When he spoke, his eyes and voice were equally firm. “I've never met Jack, but I imagine the only redeemable thing about him is you.” Dr. Theo broke their gaze to look at the clock- something he rarely did. “Will you be returning to the writer's workshop?” 

Jamie's mind lagged, stuck halfway between the comment Dr. Theo had made about Jack and the thought of seeing Mason again.

Dr. Theo didn't make judgments about anyone they talked about. Not Tia or Alex. It was always about their actions, never about them as a person. Jamie knew he had opinions- everyone did, but to be so openly, explicitly callous about her father like that… The shock of Dr. Theo's sudden bluntness threw Jamie entirely.

Then, there was the writer's group. Mason. And Sebastian. And Katie. Dr. Theo didn't know she'd been talking with Mason… What would he think about that? About how close they were becoming? Because they were, weren't they? A slow, creeping closeness developing between them, like a mutual disease.

Before she could form any coherent reply, a sudden realization hit Jamie. 

Jack would hate Mason. Just like he'd hate Dr. Theo. 

Jamie thought of how Mason had soothed her the other night. How he treated her so gently sometimes. How he was bisexual and had queer friends and spoke out for them. How he wrote in a journal and complimented people thoughtfully for their own pieces at the workshop. How there were so many soft, sweet things about him that Jamie was growing to appreciate and how Jack would loathe each and every one. 

Dr. Theo had called Jamie the only redeemable thing about Jack but there was a time when she was just like him. When she'd knock back a glass of something bitter and picture herself in 40 years, sitting in Jack's chair with Weston in Gary's seat. 

Jamie used to be her father's daughter. She was growing further from that girl every day. Did Jack know that? Could he feel it in his chest like she felt it in hers?

“Do you think he ever thinks about me?” The question slipped out of Jamie's mouth weak and needy.

“Do you?” Dr. Theo returned, an easy cop out, but Jamie didn't know. She couldn't be sure. She felt so… Untethered. 

Jack had been her anchor. He'd kept her steady. Grounded. On course. But she'd cut the rope when she'd left with Weston and despite her best efforts to swim back, the currents seemed to pull her only further away. He hadn't taken her in again when she'd needed him. Maybe he didn't think about her at all.

Jamie drifted through the rest of the afternoon, riding that wave of numbness. She managed to tell Dr. Theo a bit about Mason. That they talked now sometimes. Dr. Theo seemed almost excited about it but Jamie felt as if she were spitting words from a script about someone else's life. He asked her questions and she answered in clipped sentences.

Yes, she would go to the workshop tonight. No, she wouldn't show Dr. Theo her journal today. Yes, she would talk with Mason more. No, she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

Jamie managed to put on a brave face for Tia afterwards, moving the muscles in her face to smile without feeling anything.

“How do you even celebrate Glaucoma?” Tia guffawed after Jamie told her what holiday it was.

“Think it's more about awareness.” Jamie replied distantly. Then, she realized the comment was Tia's way of inviting her to make some sort of joke and quickly covered. “Maybe you just close one eye all day or something. He was blinking his left eye a lot.” 

Tia laughed at Jamie's story and suggested that maybe the best way to celebrate is by spreading Glaucoma. This spiraled into a conversation about how someone could go about doing that, which led to Tia admitting she didn't even know what the condition really was and Jamie reading the Wikipedia definition. By the time they got home, they'd generated a list of diseases they'd rather have over Glaucoma. 

When they entered the front door, Tia announced “herpes!” loudly enough that Alex muted the Zoom meeting he was in to ask them what on Earth they were talking about.

“What, herpes is pretty treatable! Most people have it and don't even know!” Tia said defensively. 

“Sounds better than Glaucoma.” Jamie agreed.

In a world of everchanging variables, Alex's bewilderment was a refreshing constant.

—————

Mason was already standing outside the church waiting for her when Tia dropped Jamie off.

“Is that the guy you were asking to meet?” Tia asked suspiciously as she parked her car. Jamie could feel her face heating up and stared out the window, hiding her expression from her aunt.

“Oh uh, yeah, guess so.” Her attempt at nonchalance was paper-thin, especially as she shoved her door open to flee.

“Hey wait.” Tia demanded before Jamie could escape. “You like him?” 

Mason was only a few feet away, waiting for Jamie with his hands in his pockets. With her door open, there was no doubt he'd heard Tia pretty much shout that.

“What-” Jamie sputtered, mortified by both the line of questioning and their audience. “No, he's my- he's just- someone… I gotta go.”

Jamie scrambled out and shut the door. To her dismay, Tia rolled the passenger window down, a sly smirk on her face. “Hey! Why don't you invite Mr. Someone over for dinner some night? I'll cook! It'll be great! Don't make me ask him-”

“OKAY BYE!” Jamie interjected loudly, waving overly aggressively to punctuate her agreement.

“Toodles, enjoy your writer's group, my little nerd.” Tia called affectionately as she pulled away. Jamie stayed planted right where she'd stood, knowing Mason was behind her and considering whether or not she should just follow after Tia and walk home. After that show, she couldn't look at him.

“Hey Jamie,” Mason's voice was smug and teasing and brimming with mirth as he approached. “You gonna come join your ‘someone’ or are we freezing to death tonight? C'mere, I've got awful, awful poems for you to read.”

Jamie threw Mason a half-hearted “shut up”, took a deep breath, then turned and marched towards her bully. “Yeah, you better.” She grumbled, desperately ignoring the heat in her cheeks.

“You can tell your aunt I'm available tomorrow by the way. It doesn't seem like she hates me too much.” Mason was cheery as they walked towards the entrance together.

“Just wait.” Jamie replied, making Mason chuckle.

“Nah, she'll love me.” He answered and Jamie could hear the smile on his face. It made her own mouth curl upwards.

Mason held the door open, a blast of warmth and light making Jamie sighed in relief as she passed through the doorway. Jamie shucked off her coat and hung it, keeping her journal and cellphone with her. Predictably, Mason kept his jacket on.

Light conversations fluttered up the stairs from the basement, muffled but lively. There were quite a few cars in the lot tonight, so Jamie anticipated more people than before. It made her nervous but not as badly as she had been the first time because this time Mason was walking down the stairs with her.

It didn't occur to Jamie until she reached the bottom that Sebastian and Katie were waiting downstairs for him too.

“Oh.” The exclamation left Jamie's mouth like a forced breath as she spotted Mason's two friends across the room, Katie staring daggers towards her.

“You cool if we stand with them?” Mason asked lowly from behind. His hand ghosted lightly over Jamie's back, ready to push her forwards if she stopped.

Jamie's guts knotted. Katie was practically snarling in her direction. She was certain the girl wanted as little to do with her as she did.

“Uh,” Jamie scanned the room quickly for options, her finger automatically reaching up to settle on her lips. She spotted Emma and felt a jolt of relief. “Nah, I'm gonna sit with her again.” Jamie said decidedly, grateful for the out.

She didn't give Mason time to answer, just moved quickly away from the warmth of his hovering hand towards an unoccupied seat beside the most harmless looking girl in the room. Jamie recalled the mean things she'd thought about Emma the first time she'd seen her and cringed inwardly.

“Oh, hey!” The lanky girl squeaked, obviously startled by Jamie's sudden intrusion. “You came back.”

Emma had her thick hair in two precise braids this time and Jamie made a point of recognizing in her head how nice it looked on her.

“Yeah,” Jamie said equally weakly and Emma let the conversation lull, opting to skim through the little notebook in her lap instead. Jamie followed suit, burying herself in her own journal but not actively reading any of it. She was too distracted by Mason's presence teasing the edges of her peripheral vision. She didn't need to see him to know he was looking at her now. There was an electric current between them that pulsed with each glance he threw her way. The feeling made Jamie anxious, but there was something else beneath her frayed nerves too. Something bright and desperate.

To Jamie's simultaneous relief and dismay, Katie led Mason and Sebastian to sit across from her again. She looked up into Mason's peering eyes and was rewarded with a wide smile. Then, punished with Katie's sharp glower.

“Good evening everyone! Thank you all for coming out tonight- wow, we have a full group here. Feel free to pull in some more chairs.” Leslee's voice carried easily through the room, halting conversation. She was on her feet, gesturing towards some unfamiliar girls to grab from a stack of chairs in the back corner. Jamie watched her survey the group with sharp, observant eyes that reminded her a bit of Dr. Theo. She hadn't forgotten how easily the woman commanded attention.

Jamie had been so locked in on Mason before, she hadn't counted, but as the last people took their seats, it was easy to see that there were more than 20 people gathered in the small gym. 24 including Jamie to be exact. A full class size now.

Oh how Jamie had hated high school.

Leslee laid the ground rules and Jamie found herself sneaking a peek at Mason again. His lips quirked, dark hooded eyes flicking lazily from Leslee, to Jamie and back again. He wasn't even bothering to be subtle about it. It was beginning to feel like a game that Jamie was playing alone.

Hands shot up around the circle, eager writers volunteering to read their words aloud. Leslee was quick to select the girl whose share Jamie had blatantly ignored before to go first. 

“My name's Britney and today I'll be reading a piece that's graphic, so be warned.” 

Well, Britney had Jamie's full attention now and she managed to hold it the whole way through. Britney wasn't joking about her writing being graphic either. Four people had to leave before she was through and by the end, a number of others looked pale and uncomfortable. Jamie was probably one of them because Britney's gritty, raw depictions of how her mother sexually abused her made Jamie's entire body go numb.

“Kiss the body you made, mother, and know it will never be the same. Your poison marred my raw flesh, wounding so deeply, I can't carve it out. It was never love. It was no game.”

Numb and cold until the last fading line. 

Britney asked for feedback. Only Leslee offered any comment on it. Jamie found Britney's voice pinging around the inside of her skull, prodding something tender there.

"G-God made Eve f-for Adam.” Jamie's own weak voice was dredged up, echoing in her ears. 

Oh no. Fuck. 

Another girl was speaking already, sniffling through her share. It was pathetic, the way she stood at her seat, and Jamie felt a vicious tug to go laugh in her face. Why volunteer to share if you're going to sob over every sentence?

Jamie's abdomen clenched, tensing in uncertain anticipation. She stood quickly, not lagging in place like she had the first time. No, her legs carried her surely this time, propelling Jamie to safety.

In seconds, she was running up the stairs to where her jacket hung. Jamie had one goal in mind. She needed to get out, now.

It was as if the worst version of Jack was looming over her. She could feel the threat of him all around, casting a large shadow over her. It was suffocating. Somehow, she knew exactly what was coming next.

"Eve came from Adam, didn't she? Kinda like how you came from me, right?" 

Fuck.

Jamie managed to stumble out the front door just as the retching started, an unusual reaction but preferable if the alternative was pissing herself. It had been hours since she'd last eaten so she was fairly certain there'd be nothing to expel besides water and bile. That didn't stop her body from heaving anyway, strings of snot and drool leaking from her as she knelt, doubled over on the snowy ground in the parking lot.

“Oh baby,” came a soft, familiar voice. Mason gently gathered her frizzy, unruly hair into a ponytail, and held it back as she rocked forward on another gag.

Oh my fucking God, please no. 

Jamie thought the words but couldn't speak them, still preoccupied with hurling nothing. The ground was hard and cold beneath her knees and hands 

Somehow, Mason managed to put his jacket around her shoulders without letting any stray strands of hair fall back into her mess. He held her hair with one hand now, rubbing soothing circles over his jacket between her shoulder blades with the other.

“It's okay, Jamie. You're okay.”

She didn't feel okay, but at least the jacket draped around her was warm and heavy. And Mason was there for her, even though part of her wanted him to leave immediately. 

Despite the cold, sweat beaded her forehead, spine, and pits. As she pulled in a shuddering breath, encouraged by Mason's gentle “that's it,” she could taste iron and a spicy masculine scent that perfumed her leather shroud.

Jamie kept her face parallel to the ground as she wiped the moisture away. 

“I don't know what's wrong with me.” She muttered, voice breaking. Her muscles stayed taut, bunched up beneath her clothes. 

Mason made a sympathetic noise in response, releasing her hair to gently help her up. “It's not your fault, Jamie.” He picked up her journal from where she'd dropped it, tucking it under his arm then started guiding her back to the church's entrance. Her heart kicked back up, inexplicable nausea resurfacing.

“N-no, please.” She protested weakly. Jamie wasn't stronger than Mason- especially not now- so she hoped he'd hear her. Hoped he'd listen. “I can't go back downstairs.”

“Don't worry, we're not. There's a bathroom on the main floor, we're just going to get you cleaned up in there, okay?”

Jamie swiped at her nose again with cold, uncooperative fingers and allowed Mason to lead them back through the main doors. Downstairs, the shares continued. Sebastian's voice was distinct and clear and Jamie did what she could to block it out.

As promised, Mason steered Jamie straight towards the dimly lit chapel, then made a sharp right down a pitch black hall. Jamie wasn't afraid of the dark, but it did make her a bit uneasy. She didn't like the idea of standing in some unfamiliar void where her only comforts came in the form of Mason. The span of his firm hand along the small of her back. The smell of him wrapped around her. The occasional bump of her shoulder against his steady chest. And his voice. 

“Here we go, sweetheart.” 

Jamie heard the flick of a switch and then there was light pouring down on them, forcing the darkness away. She flinched back, momentarily blinded, and felt Mason's arm wind around her, pulling her in to shield her eyes against him. 

“Sorry, I know that was bright.” He murmured and Jamie felt the words rumbling through his chest. Mason had her in a full embrace, both arms around her as her forehead rested against his shoulder, her hands tucked weakly between their chests. In a blink, he was releasing her again. 

Jamie knew she should say something. Do something. Though she wasn't sure what. Her body was trembling and unsteady as the fluttering wings of a moth. A stabbing ache twisted her gut, making her breath stutter. Then quickly as it came, it faded back into an awful numbness that promised humiliation.

Jamie had enough time to blurt out “one sec”, slam the bathroom door in Mason's face and yank her pants to her knees. The porcelain seat was cold under her ass but she was grateful for it because the instant she made contact, her bladder was releasing.

Fucking fuck.

Jamie cursed her stupid body and her stupid brain and her stupid bladder and her stupid pelvic floor and every other stupid part of her as her muscles rippled and spasmed and a familiar burn started in her crotch. The force of her own muscles contracting pulled soft grunts to her lips that she tried her best to stifle. Was it too much to ask, to have control over this one damn function?

Jamie knew it could be worse though. At least she wasn't shitting herself. 

Minutes passed. Jamie stayed until she knew there would be no chance of an accident, then stayed a couple minutes longer just in case. She wiped, stood, flushed, and then stared at her sweaty, red-faced reflection in the mirror over the sink.

Jamie looked disgusting. She looked wild. Using a moist paper towel, she blotted the hot splotches on her forehead, under her eyes and nose and across her cheeks. Mason's jacket hung loosely over her shoulders still. Reluctantly, she pulled it off, holding it tightly to her chest instead.

Was Mason outside the door waiting for her still, or had he left? 

It was a dumb question. No part of Jamie was surprised to find him standing sentry in the hallway when she opened the bathroom door.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, praying he hadn't been able to hear her from out here.

“You don't have anything to apologize for. You alright?” Mason's brown eyes traced every inch of Jamie's face. If he found her as gross as she felt, his expression didn't betray it.

Jamie gave a wordless nod, exhaustion weighing on her. Three chairs lined the wall of the hallway like the waiting room in a doctor's office. Mason planted himself in one, gesturing for Jamie to do the same and she did gratefully.

In the basement, muffled voices continued their presentations. 

“So,” Mason said softly as Jamie clutched his jacket to her stomach. “You've got a medical thing?”

Jamie wanted to laugh. What an understatement. “Yep.” She admitted leaning her head back against the wall, not eager to elaborate.

Mason gave a soft hum. “That sucks.” 

This time she did laugh. One short, sharp exhale. It did suck, but c'est la vie. Jamie expected him to drop it there, but Mason wasn't one to let things go so easily.

“So it's a condition? Like IBS?”

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. She could think of a hundred places she'd rather be right now over sitting outside a church bathroom talking about her bladder issues with Mason. Like her discussion with Tia, there were probably a hundred conditions she'd rather have too.

“Pelvic floor dysfunction.” She said shortly, her guts clenching at the acknowledgement.

Mason went silent for a moment. When Jamie glanced at him, he was staring at his phone screen. On it, he'd typed “Pelvic floor dysfunction” into his internet search bar and was scrolling through results.

Jamie jerked upright and made a thoughtless swipe at his phone. “Do not!” She exclaimed in shock.

Mason had longer arms than her and simply shifted his device to his other hand, leaning away from her reach. “Woah, what's wrong?” He asked. “You don't want me to look that up?”

“Not really!”

He nodded and clicked his power button, darkening his phone screen. “Okay, I won't. Thank you for telling me. I've never really heard about it before. I'd like to know more about it though. If there's anything I can do to help…”

Mason, knowing her. Helping her… How mortifying. 

Jamie immediately thought back to their first conversation, when Mason had told her he could be intense about wanting answers. He'd probably search again as soon as he got home. It was easier to accept that than it would be for her to watch him read about it though. She didn't want to see his expression change, curdling in disgust or softening in pity any more than it already had. Her hand jerked away from her mouth, her body reacting to the sting of pain as she chewed an already bleeding nail.

“You've got that ‘ready to flee’ look on your face again, but I think I'm getting better at recognizing your cues now. You wanna listen to some music in my car again?”

Mason's suggestion was an extended olive branch if Jamie ever saw one.

“Please.” She managed to say.

The hour passed quickly this time. Mason let Jamie scroll through his playlist and she selected as many songs as he did, though only he sang along to them. When the first people began trickling out the church doors, Mason handed Jamie his journal. 

“You can have this as long as you'd like. Text me your aunt's address for dinner tomorrow.”

And as she lay tucked in her bed, Jamie did.

「Thanks sweetheart, get some sleep.」 Mason replied instantly. 

Mason's gentleness with her was so foreign. It made something in Jamie's stomach flip- like anxiety, only more innocent. Juvenile.

A crush.

Sweet as bubblegum lipgloss and equally forbidden as far as Jamie was concerned because nothing so sweet in her life ever stayed that way. Even the ripest fruits turned bitter when left to ferment. Jamie knew Mason's kindness wouldn't last and neither would these feelings. It was only a matter of time.

Jamie was better off shoving everything down if she knew what was good for her. Jack had taught her that. Squeezing her eyes closed, she repeated the thought in her mind until the words blurred and her consciousness began to slip away.

Shove it down if you know what's good for you. Shove it down if you know what's good for you.

Shove it down if you know what's good for you.

Did she know what was good for her?

Chapter Text

“We're going to run to the store quickly. Behave yourselves!” Tia chirped, dragging Alex out the door behind her.

Jamie felt her face flush at the implication in Tia's words, which hit harder considering she was practically on Mason's lap. The loveseat had so many throw pillows taking up its limited space but Jamie didn't dare throw them on the ground lest she incur her aunt's wrath. So instead, she sat pressed against Mason's side, his leather jacket cool against her bicep, her ass half-way on his thigh.

The second the door clicked shut, Mason's low, sultry voice was in her ear. “Sit on me.”

Jamie blanched at his boldness. They'd practically just gotten comfortable, some reality TV survival show droning on in front of them.

“What?” She managed to sputter. Jamie tried to turn her head to look up at him but Mason was already lifting her by the thighs onto him. “Mason!”

The sound of Tia's engine faded into the distance, replaced in Jamie's ears by the rapid beat of her own heart. Mason was being rough with her. In a second, his hands were wandering all through her clothes. Squeezing. Groping. It wasn't like him at all, but it reminded Jamie of someone.

“What? You a prude all of a sudden?” The laugh that left Mason's lips was sharp and out of place. Gone was his throaty chuckle, replaced by something grating and frantic.

“Mouth, hand, or pussy? Pick quickly baby or I'll do it for you.” Stiff and demanding, his cock jabbed into the seam of her jeans. Equally insistent were his fingers, diving into her shirt to tweak her nipple, hard.

A cry escaped Jamie as her hands grabbed at his. “Mason, wait- I don't- please stop-”

 “I'll be fast, baby.” He grunted, already thrusting up against her. 

“Mason!” She protested, her fingers clawing his wrists as she tried to pry him off. Leaning back into his chest, Jamie hoped if he saw her pleading, desperate face he'd stop. Maybe if he just saw the serious tears welling in her eyes. 

When she looked up though, it wasn't Mason's dark, hooded gaze fixed on her but a peering set of narrow green.

“Stop calling me that.” Weston growled.

Jamie rocketed out of bed so quickly, she made the world spin. Her hand found her cellphone in the dark by pure muscle memory. She managed to fumble it on and glared at the display in front of her.

4:36

Fri, March 13.

Fuck.

Jamie held her breath for a moment, listening for any sign that she might have woken Tia or Alex. Then, exhaled in a frustrated huff. Her diaper was wet. Worse, she could still feel the imprint of Weston's hands on her. At least her sheets were dry.

She showered as quietly as possible, in a groggy, achy daze.

By the time Tia and Alex woke up for work, Jamie was already well into her own. Tia reminded Jamie to get the slow cooker going at noon for dinner tonight. The woman had thrown herself into prepping the ingredients for her signature chicken soup as soon as they'd gotten back from the writer's workshop, so all Jamie had to do was put the ceramic pot inside the cooker and hit start. She filed the instruction away in her mind, trying to focus on anything else other than tonight's dinner.

It was impossible to distract herself entirely though.

Soup. The dinner. Tonight. The dinner that Mason would be attending. Here. In mere hours. Here.

The rapidly approaching event now filled her with dread.

She captioned another hour of some Gothic romance short film, cringing all the way through to the credits, then needed to take a break. Jamie was mid-peanut-butter-toast when she suddenly remembered that she had Mason's journal. Choking down the last of her brunch and promptly abandoning her laptop, she dug the book out of the reusable grocery bag that she'd carried it home in and flipped it open. It was thinner than Jamie's journal, but each page was filled with slanted scrawl.

A small part of Jamie whispered not to. Not to look. Not to pick the scab. Unfortunately, it was the only adequate distraction she could think of. 

Jamie skimmed it quickly at first, her eyes scanning, snagging on some phrases here and there. As promised, he'd crammed the thing with half-complete thoughts, quotes, random nonsensical lists. She slowed to read one page structured differently from the rest. A sonnet, as promised. It was dramatic, as were many of his pieces, but not as stupid as he'd made it out to be. At least, not to her. 

She slowed again when her gaze landed on the words “sweet thing”, drawing her back to the top of another page.

On the edge of intimacy, teeter and fall for me. Pliantly soft. Vulnerable in my arms. With my hands, gently guiding, you will find I'm inescapable. What will be your breaking point, sweet thing? Or were you broken when you came to me? Let me press on your bruises, baby. It's alright little one, drop for me. 

The entry felt personal. It read almost like some backwards love letter to Jamie, but the language in it tripped her up. Was it meant to be… romantic? It sounded almost manipulative. She read over it again, goosebumps raising along her arms.

little one

“What the fuck?” Jamie whispered to herself as she tried to make sense of it. Was this written about a kid? Was he writing romantically about a…

More urgently than before, Jamie scoured over the notebook, desperate for context. She wanted- no, needed to draw some other conclusion besides the one at the top of her mind. 

By 2pm, Jamie was certain that there were no other pieces of writing of the sort in his journal. Though, she did notice four spots where it seemed like pages had been ripped out. Maybe he'd missed this one. She read a handful of what would normally be gut-wrenching recollections with pure detachment.

Her abdomen was rigid enough to snap. She gnawed down her fingernails as far as she could. Jamie tried to read the paragraph again from another angle and couldn't. Finally, she broke and dialed Mason's number.

“Hey Jamie, sorry I'm at work right now-”

“Are you a kid fucker?” Jamie demanded angrily, cutting him off. 

“What? No!” The immediate hurt and disbelief in Mason's voice almost made Jamie flinch. Almost. “Jared, I've uh- I've got a family emergency. Can I go?” Jamie heard him call out weakly. A man grumbled in the background and then there was shuffling.

Jamie wondered what defense Mason could possibly have, disgust and rage swirling in her chest with each passing second. To think, she'd once been worried that he would find her gross. The irony that he'd had the nerve to tell her he hated kids. Of course he would make jokes like that. Predators always did.

“Oh God, you're lying! You- you wanna fuck kids!” Jamie couldn't stop the panic mounting in her voice.

“No! I don't! Christ, Jamie, where is this coming from?” Mason was hissing into the phone at her, breathless as he seemed to be speed walking some place. 

“Pliantly soft. Vulnerable in my arms?” She spit his words back at him accusatorily. 

“Fuck.” Mason muttered softly. 

Jamie continued, her rising voice wavering, placing emphasis on the most offending lines. “With my hands, gently guiding, you will find I'm inescapable? What will be your breaking point, sweet thing? Or were you broken when you came to me?”

She recognized the sound of his car door slamming closed and spoke faster, determined to get it out before he interrupted. “It's alright, little one. Drop for me?” Jamie was seething. For some reason, she felt like she might cry.

It had been too good to be true. The truth about Mason was just another candy-coated poison pill for Jamie to swallow and suffer the consequences.

“Okay, I understand how it comes across. I hear it. But please listen to me for a second. Let me explain. It has nothing to do with children, okay?”

“Ha.” Jamie spit.

“Please,” Mason repeated, solemn voice edged with panic. 

Jamie didn't know what he could possibly say to make it okay. Her whole body was buzzing with nerves. She physically bit her tongue and waited.

“Okay, so. Fuck. Have you heard of power dynamics before?”

Oh, so he thought she was an idiot. 

“Yeah, no shit. Adults have power over kids. What kind of fucking argument is that?” 

Dr. Theo had given her the spiel before about the inherent power imbalances that existed in the world, focusing specifically on how they could impact the relationship between parents and their children. He'd been making some point about Jamie being a helpless victim or some shit that made her furious because of course he had all these roundabout stupid ways to blame Jack for all of Jamie's fuck-ups. Jamie wasn't interested in hearing that shtick again. 

“Don't put words in my mouth, please.” Mason sighed. “It's going to be really difficult for me to explain this if you can't give me the smallest benefit of the doubt here. Can you hold your accusations? Just until I'm done?”

Jamie wished he were in front of her to see the scowl on her face. 

“Okay, so power dynamics exist in a lot of different settings. So do power exchanges.” Mason paused as if waiting for Jamie to jump in. She had no idea where this was going now though.

“I have no idea what the fuck that is.”

“I thought that might be the case.” Mason sighed again. “Do you know anything about BDSM?”

What the fuck.

Jamie's face flushed, probably near purple. The back of her neck and shoulders ached from tension, a small throbbing headache blooming behind her eyes. Maybe she was still dreaming? Maybe this was another fucked up dream and she'd wake up and everything would be back to normal?

Jamie knew about BDSM. It was a category of porn that Weston had sometimes watched in front of her on days when she'd turned his advances down. All violent videos set in leather and red. Women bruised and bleeding, sobbing and screaming for mercy as men raped and degraded them. 

“You're probably thinking of Fifty Shades of Grey or something, but it isn't like that. That's a poor representation.” Mason said woefully. 

Jamie had no idea what Fifty Shades of Grey was but she didn't correct him.

“You like to… hurt…” Jamie wanted to say children, but caught herself. “Women?”

She could hear the frustration in Mason's silence. The idea of Mason hurting anyone was so jarring. She'd pictured Weston in the videos so many times. He'd always been a bit rough around the edges, but Mason was so soft. Wrapped in leather, sure, but did he really get off on the same stuff?

“Some people are masochists. They're into pushing themselves physically, receiving pain. Some people are sadists that like to cause pain. I'm a bit of a sadist sometimes, but not how you're probably imagining. I enjoy dominating consenting adults in specific ways. Through power exchanges. Kids are never involved. BDSM isn't for minors and I'm not a pedophile.” The hurt in Mason's voice was evident, as was his conviction. 

Jamie found it a bit easier to breathe after he said it. Still, she was having trouble wrapping her head around what it all meant.

“You… you want to make women feel shame? That's how you… hurt them? That's what you like?” Jamie asked weakly, reading over the paragraph in his journal again with aching eyes.

“Yes.” Mason said bluntly, shocking her again. “I like fucking with people's heads. It turns me on. Men. Women. Always consenting adults.”

Right, Mason was bisexual. She'd never seen BDSM porn where a man was the one being abused but Weston wasn't into gay porn, so it made sense.

A shudder ran through Jamie as she absorbed Mason's words. How his voice changed, all low and calm. Certain.

Fucking fa-

Jamie cut her own thought off, stopping it in its tracks, her breath catching in her throat. The thought had been a knee-jerk response. A reflex. Guilt nipped at her as she remembered Mason's warning about her hateful language, but she hadn't said it. Still…

“So the-” Jamie's head was so clouded, it was hard to focus. She needed to shake the image of Mason standing over a naked man from her mind. “The ‘little one’ part. That was meant to… to be insulting?”

Mason hesitated. “No, not exactly… It was meant to be more of a pet name.”

A pet name. A pet name like all the dumb names Mason used for her. Sweetheart, baby, angel… little one? Jamie wanted to object but she wasn't sure how.

“I swear that's all it is, Jamie. It's part of the power exchange thing. Have you ever heard someone call their partner ‘Mommy’ or ‘Daddy'?”

God, will this never end?

Jamie kept quiet, afraid of what she might say if she let herself reply. She remembered Mason saying that she wasn't the mean Mommy type. The weight of that comment had flown right over her head at the time but was coming back around like a boomerang now, hitting her square in the chest.

“Maybe not. There's a branch of power exchanges where certain dominants enjoy taking care of their submissive in an almost parental role. Like most power exchanges, the submissive refers to their dominant using a title. Daddy is a common example. The submissive exchanges their ‘power’ by following rules or depending on their dominant for things a typical person might not. And in return, they might receive nurturing or affection. It's different for everyone, it all depends on what both people want to happen and what they consent to.” Mason was speaking carefully, like Dr. Theo when he wanted Jamie to really listen.

A moment passed as the wheels in Jamie's brain spun. She was wound too tightly, primed to explode. This was a lot. Too much. Mason was a complete stranger to her. She wanted to tell him he was disgusting. Shouldn't this all be disgusting to her? Wasn't it?

“Have I scared you off?” Mason asked softly, because that's what he was. Soft. And sweet. And gentle. And Jamie liked that about him, even if Jack would've hated it. 

“No.” She managed to say.

“Do you need time to think about all of this?” 

Jamie nodded to herself before speaking. “Yeah.”

“Okay, you can tell your aunt I came down with the flu if that's easier. I don't want to offend her.”

Jamie's stomach sank at his words. She suddenly felt crumpled. Small. “What? You- you don't want to come anymore?” 

“You still want me there?” Mason managed to sound both relieved and incredulous at the same time.

“You don't have to.” Jamie said quickly. Mason hummed on the other end like he was considering it. Now, Jamie wondered if he was trying to make her flustered because it turned him on. Or maybe he just found it fun.

“Does knowing all of this about me make you uncomfortable?”

Jamie let out a breathy laugh. “Everything makes me uncomfortable.” She muttered.

“Mm, unfortunately, I think that's true.” Mason agreed, his voice a little more light-hearted. “I'd like to come to dinner still. And I won't be offended if you have more questions. Preferably not in front of your aunt of course, but I'd rather you ask than come to your own conclusions. You can look up everything I'm telling you too, but there will be misinformation online and it can be hard to tell the difference if you don't have any other experience with it.” 

Jamie's chest expanded with relief. Then, she remembered the BDSM porn and felt her guts squeeze. “My ex used to be into that shit.” The confession fell from her lips without much thought.

“BDSM?” Mason asked, confused. 

Weston's face flashed in her mind. She laughed without humor. “Kind of.”

Tension crackled over the line. Had Jamie said the wrong thing? It seemed she was always saying the wrong thing…

“You know, BDSM is rooted in consent and boundaries. There's more to it than that, but without basic consent or boundaries, a lot of the actions involved would just be considered abuse. It's like sports. When a pitcher lobs a fastball, the batter is ready for it. They want them to throw it. But if I just threw a baseball at someone on the street, it would be considered assault, not baseball. Does that make sense?” 

Jamie wrinkled her nose at the analogy but it got Mason's point across. 

“Was it-” Mason stopped abruptly and whispered something incomprehensible under his breath. When he spoke again, he sounded more composed. “You know what, I just hate when people use BDSM to justify actually abusive behaviour. Anyway, I'm done lecturing now. How are you doing with… all of this?”

“I think my head's going to explode.” Jamie admitted, making Mason chuckle.

“Yeah, me too.” He joked. “What are you doing right now?” 

The shift in subject was a bit disorienting and Jamie had to take a second to form a response. 

She'd called Mason so prepared to hate him forever. Jamie had been boiling with rage and then in a few short minutes, Mason's words had rapidly cooled her. It made her think about the time she'd put a steaming bowl in the freezer. How it had shattered, covering everything in a layer of soup- the cheap, canned kind, nothing like what Tia could make. Jamie felt like that fragile bowl now. Like she might shatter, fissures spiderwebbing down her porcelain body. At least there would be no mess to clean.

“Uh, I just read your journal…” she glanced down at it in her lap, then shut it and set it on the coffee table. Stupid thing to say. He knew she'd done that. “I'm going to, uh… Fuck, I feel so tired.”

“Yeah, that was a bit of a rollercoaster, huh?” Mason murmured sympathetically and Jamie wondered how he could just flip the switch so easily, sliding into that mode. Maybe it was always on beneath the surface.

Jamie grumbled some wordless noise that Mason interpreted as agreement. 

“Are you able to go for a quick nap?” He asked.

The sun was out and Jamie's bedroom had only a thin curtain to soften it, but she could probably sleep through it anyway. She slowly pushed off the couch, sighed, and made her way to her room. Tia would be home soon, and she'd wake her. Wouldn't she? 

Jamie hesitated in the hallway. Maybe Tia would get home and see that Jamie had done nothing all day except sleep and she'd be annoyed with her. Was she really going to nap when Tia was out working all day? She would probably come home and clean too, meanwhile it was Jamie having a friend over.

“Yeah, but I should probably tidy up instead maybe.” Jamie mumbled, looking around.

The house wasn't dirty but Jamie knew Tia liked to clean up for guests. She hadn't even thought about it all day, but she should've. 

“Oh, is your aunt expecting you to tidy up?” Mason wondered aloud.

“What? No, she… No, probably not. She didn't say anything, just…”

Mason hummed and there was a muffled tap tap tap like he was drumming his fingers on something. “Go for a nap, sweetheart.” He said firmly.

Jamie's whole body seemed to sag under Mason's command. “No,” she protested. “I don't need-”

“For me?”

Mason's voice slithered through the phone, down her wrist and curled around Jamie's entire fractured body. She shuddered. Was he like a hypnotist or something? It was unreasonable how easily he affected her. She didn't have the energy to fight it.

Her legs carried her to her bed on their own accord.

“You're- you-” Jamie was out of ways to describe him.

“Yeah, I am.” He said teasingly. “Lay down for me, doll. Close those pretty eyes. I'll be over in a few hours and you can tell me how much you hated napping then, okay?”

Mason was doing it again. He'd done this before, when she'd fallen asleep with him on the phone, talking her through it. She didn't want to admit how nice it felt when he piled on all this extra sweetness knowing she was too exhausted and disarmed to argue any of it. 

Jamie was out before her head hit the pillow.