Lincoln is still feeling sick in the morning, but everyone else seems to have recovered well enough. It's lunch time, and I'm bringing Lincoln some leftover soup, trying very carefully not to spill it as I walk up the stairs. Thankfully, I get there in one piece, and I knock on his door before entering. "Lincoln—" I squeeze my eyes shut as I see Jax and Lincoln on the bed, doing things that someone who's sick should definitely not be doing. "I'll just leave this here," I say and put the bowl on the dresser. Then I turn and hightail it out of there.
I shake my head and plop down at the kitchen table next to Peter, laying my head down and just watching him scroll through Instagram.
Someone knocks on the door, but I don't move, fully intent on spending today being lazy. I hear someone answer the door, and a woman's voice answers. I jerk my head up, and my eyes widen. Crap. I feel in my pocket for that card, and sure enough, I find it. Crap. I hop off the chair and speed walk to the front door.
"—I came yesterday and talked to some boy— him!" She points at me.
Sam looks at me with a what-the-hell-is-she-talking-about face, and I shrug at him, but stop next to him and smile at the woman. "Hi again. One thing, I totally forgot and did not in fact do what you told me to."
"Yeah, no shit Sherlock," she spits out and glares at me.
"Fuck you, Watson," I say with the same amount of venom, even sticking my tongue out at her, but then I roll my eyes and sigh. "Look, I'm sorry that I forgot. That is my fault. But if you still need to talk to Orion, he's here, and you can talk to him now." I open the door wider and gesture her in.
She doesn't stop glaring but does walk in, and I close the door behind her.
"If you can—"
"Aunt Elise?"
I look to the top of the stairs to see Jax standing there, staring at the woman in shock. His freshly washed hair falls over his eyes.
He sweeps it back. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too, Jaxon," she says and moves her purse farther onto her shoulder. "I came here to bring you home."
I feel the atmosphere drops twenty degrees, but I don't buy it. She can't take him from us. He belongs here. He isn't leaving. Not ever.
Jax walks down a couple steps. "What are you talking about?"
Elise looks up at him, and her mean demeanour slips. "Something has happened." Her voice is soft. "Is there some place we can talk?" She looks right at me. "Privately." The edge is back.
Jax makes it to the bottom of the steps, looking as confused as I feel. "No. If you wanted to talk to me in private, then you could've texted me before showing up." He turns and heads into the kitchen.
Elise goes after him, and, after a glance at each other, Sam and I follow.
"You can't force me to leave," Jax says, eating from a bag of chips. "We've been over this before. I'm a legal adult. You have no say over me." He eats a chip.
"I'm not forcing you to leave. I am asking you to come home. Your mother's in the hospital."
Jax snorts. "That's nothing new. Why's she in there now? Drugs again? Alcohol?"
"She was hit by a drunk driver two days ago. She's still in the hospital, but the doctors say she'll be fine."
I don't know what's going on, but I can tell that Elise is hesitant when she speaks, almost like the next thing she says is going to set off Jax.
I think he knows that too.
"You only come here if it's important. What aren't you telling me?"
"Please, Jax. It's better if you're with her when you find out."
The blood drains from his face. "What happened to Annabelle?"
They have a staring match before Elise says, "She was in the car with Remi." She pauses, like she's waiting for Jax to do something. "She's in critical condition." She glances at me before taking a deep breath, preparing herself for her next words. "I tried reaching you when it happened, but no one would answer my calls. I came here yesterday and told that boy to tell you to call me. I can see now that he didn't."
"What are you talking about?" Jax asks, glancing at the two of us. "You came here yesterday?"
"Yes. I talked to that boy there," she points to me again, "and I told him to tell you to call me urgently because it was about Annabelle."
Jax turns to me. "Blythe?"
I try to wrap my head around everything that she is saying. "I— I mean, she did come by the house yesterday. And I did talk with her. But she said nothing about needing you to call her immediately. Or anything about Annabelle. I swear, Jax! If I had known, I would've—"
"Enough. I don't want to hear your excuses. Give me two minutes. Then we're leaving." Jax leaves the kitchen in a rush, but I hurry after him.
I have to make this right before he goes. "Jax, wait." I rush up the stairs after him.
"Go away, Blythe. I don't want to hear it right now."
"I know, but I'm sorry." I follow him into his room. "I really am. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
"And yet it did," he snaps back with such force that it causes me to stop.
"Are you blaming me for this happening?" I ask, utterly confused.
He pushes past me and out the door.
I rush after him. "Jax, are you blaming me for this?" My voice rises as I stop at the top of the stairs.
He turns around from below and faces me. "All I'm saying is that I could've been with her yesterday if a certain someone told me one simple fucking thing."
"Fuck you, Jax," I hear myself say, anger coursing through me for the first time in years. "None of this is my fault. I didn't know anything about Annabelle or what happened to her—"
"That's the problem!" he shouts. "I should've known. I should've been there for her. She could've died, Blythe! She could've died, and I wouldn't get to be there with her to chase her fears away. I wouldn't be able to say goodbye. All because of you!"
"I know that's terrible—"
"You don't know shit! All of your siblings are taken care of by your parents. They get the world handed to them on a silver fucking plater. All the while, the closest thing to a blood family I got left is Annabelle. If I lose her, I'll never forgive you. It'll be all your fault. You'll have to deal with the guilt for the rest of your fucking life. And maybe then you'll finally remember something important for a change. You're so fucking useless—"
I stand there, staring at his silhouette. An image flashes before my eyes—my mom is in the kitchen with fire in her eyes. Her mouth moves, saying the same words Jax just said. I recognize the familiar tone in his voice and the emotion in his eyes, and something in me shifts. My face goes blank, and my tone says neutral as he continues yelling something. I don't know what. It feels like I got sucked into my own mind, watching whatever is happening through a distorted wall. I know how this thing is going to go, and I know what to do to survive.
Half of me is panicked about what might happen because it is Jax yelling at me, but the other half of me is calm because I'm used to this. This is familiar. This is normal.
I can see Jax's mouth moving, but all I hear is static. I just agree to whatever he says until he eventually gives up and leaves through the front door, slamming it on the way out.
Coming from nowhere, Sam puts his hand on my shoulder. "Blythe..."
I brush him off and run into my room, feeling the tears coming and wanting to be alone. I quietly shut the door behind me, thanking everyone who can hear me that Peter isn't here right now. I fall to the ground, bury my head in my arms, and cry.
I'm so sorry, Jax. I'm so sorry. If I had known about Annabelle, I would've told you. I would've remembered. I'm so stupid. I forget everything all the time, I know that, and I hate it. I forget about everything so easily—even with something as important as this.
I remember talking to Elise and her giving me her card but nothing about Annabelle.
I'm such an idiot.
I can't believe I did that.
I put Jax through that.
I deserve all these emotions that I'm feeling.
A sob rips through me, but I stifle it. I don't need anyone else hearing me. I get up and stumble to my bed, getting my music out, and heading to the closet. I press my back against the closed door and start playing some music, but nothing I listen to is working for me right now—not even my usual music—and something in me shifts again, worse this time, and my
Heart
Breaks.
My breathing picks up, and I get light headed, but I can't stop.
I can't stop gasping for breath.
My body feels tingly and floaty, and I'm crying. I'm crying so hard, but at the same time, I can't breathe. But I can, and I can't stop.
I can't stop.
I can't stop.
What's happening to me?
I can't stop.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Bre—
I fumble with my music. My hands are shaking too much to hold it, but I put an earbud in and close my eyes, trying to escape into the music. Escape like I always do.
But it's not working.
It's not working, and I can't stop. I can't stop. It's not working. It's not working. It always works. It always works.
I rip my earbuds out, folding my knees to my chest and rock back and forth.
My eyes squeeze shut, and I wrap my arms around myself.
You're okay. You're okay. You're okay. You're okay.
I repeat that in my head until I start believing it, and when I start believing it, I start calming down. Something shifts back into place.
I gasp in a full breath and keep repeating that until I'm in control of my body again. Until my breathing slows, and I can wiggle my fingers. Until my head crashes back down to Earth.
I slump against the door, feeling like I went to war. My eyes burn, and I can't focus on anything. My body won't move, but I finally feel in control of it again.
I don't ever want to move.
Please just let me sleep.
I don't want to be here anymore.
.~:*:~.
No one comes to get me the rest of the day. Peter tried once to get me to open the closet door to eat something, but once he realized that I wouldn't move, he left the plate on the floor and left the room.
The food was cold by the time I got enough energy to stand. I made my way to my bed and have been there ever since, staring out the window.
I tried listening to music again, but for the time being, I don't want to. Something in me is terrified that whatever happened will happen to me again, so I keep my ipod under my pillow, but my hand rests on it, making sure that it's still there.
It will always be there.
It's been nighttime for a while when I see a car pull into the driveway. It sits there before someone gets out—Jax—and the car drives away. Jax puts his hands in his pockets before heading inside.
My heart thumps against the stone in my chest, but I try to think of anything else that will cause that pain to go away. I don't want it anymore.
.~:*:~.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I open my eyes, the sun shines through the window. My eyes burn, so I know I didn't get enough sleep. What woke me up though?
Then I hear it. A light tapping on the door. "Blythe?"
My heart skips a beat when I hear Jax's voice, but his voice has never sounded this raw before.
He taps again. "Blythe, can we talk? Can I come in?"
I don't know what to say to that. Is he still mad at me? If he's going to yell at me some more, then no. But if he's come for any other reason, then no. I don't want to talk to anyone. But is that mean? What if he gets offended that I said no? Am I even allowed to say no? I don't think I am.
I get out of bed and open the door a crack. I look up at him but then quint my eyes in pain. I got up so fast that my headache hit me just now.
"Blythe...?"
I gently shake my head. I feel like crying again, but I push it down. I don't want to cry in front of him.
"Can I come in?"
I nod and let him in, closing the door behind him and sitting next to him on my bed. I don't say anything, but neither does he. I realize for the first time just how much my chest hurts when I breathe. That's never happened before.
"I'm sorry," Jax says. He sits with his fingers pressed together, staring out the window.
"Don't be," I immediately say, surprising even myself by how steady my voice sounds. "You did nothing wrong. It was my fault. I screwed everything up—"
"You didn't screw up anything, Blythe."
Don't cry. Don't cry.
"It was my fault," he continues. "Aunt Elise played me, and I fell for it. She used Annie against me. To make me hate you, and it worked. But that doesn't excuse how I reacted towards you. It wasn't your fault, and I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
"If I knew it was about Annabelle, I would've told you immediately. I know how much she means to you. You know that."
"I know."
His voice cracks on that last word, and I look at his face for the first time since he sat down, and my eyes widen to see tears in his eyes.
Oh, god. I can't deal with crying people.
My hands flutter up, not knowing if I should hug him or give him space. "It's okay, Jax. It's okay. Please don't cry. I can go get—"
"You don't hate me, do you?"
He looks at me with those big, sad eyes, and I melt.
"Of course I don't," I say. "Why would I?"
"I was terrible towards you," he yells and stands up, starting to pace. "I was terrible towards you for no reason! I just got angry and directed it towards the easiest target. I just wanted you to hurt like you made me hurt, but I'm so sorry, Blythe. I'm so sorry. I don't really believe any of what I said. I know the struggles you went through to get here. I know you try everyday to make everyone here happy. I know that we all want you here, faults and all. And I don't think you're useless in any way. You're so important to me and to all of us here. Please don't hate me." He starts crying again, and so do I.
I stand up and pull him into a hug, trying to tell him that I forgive him and that everything will be okay.
He wraps his arms around me, holds me tight, and lays his head on mine.
After a while I ask the question that I've been dying to know. "Is she going to be okay?"
He's silent for so long, I figure he didn't hear me. Then he says, "I don't know."