RUNAWAY
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE...!
❝ SNOWFLAKES , SEASON EIGHT ❞
JENNIE used to love watching the snowflakes fall.
Around the end of November, Jennie would wake up early to see if there was snow outside. If there was, she'd do either one of two things. One — rush to Jack's room, wake him up, and force him to watch the snow with her. Or two — be too mesmerized by the sight to even move from the window.
Today was different, however.
For starters, Jennie wasn't in Quantico. She resided in her apartment in New York, spending most hours of the day at her desk. Occasionally, she'd look out the window, and see snow slowly descending from the sky. At first, she'd smile softly at the sight. But soon enough, the snowflakes became a constant reminder of something sore.
Within an hour, she couldn't bare the sight of them.
A while had passed, before her negative thoughts about the snowflakes were interrupted, her eyes shooting from the window to the computer screen in front of her, after hearing Grayson call her name.
"Earth to Jennie—?"
When her eyes landed on him, she noticed the awaiting look on his face. He let out a small chuckle at her realization, slightly tilting his head curiously.
"You alright?"
"Yeah, sorry." She told him, know having her attention to the screen in front of her, "I just got distracted. It's finally snowing outside."
"Oh, shit. You love snow." Grayson recalled, before nodding towards her, "Go ahead. Ramble about how pretty it is."
Jennie laughed at his statement, knowing she had told him numerous times about how she had been waiting for it to snow for ages.
So, when she responded, he didn't expect what she would say.
"Eh." She shrugged, "Not as exciting as I thought it would be."
"What?! Seriously?" He gapped, "Months and months of waiting, and that's your response?"
"I mean, it's pretty. It's beautiful. But it's nothing like Quantico snow." She sighed softly, "Doesn't make me feel like Quantico snow used to make me feel."
"I get that." Grayson nodded in understanding, "You haven't been back there in a while."
"Yeah." She swallowed, "Hopefully we can come back for Christmas, though. Have you seen if you can travel back to Quantico in December?"
"I still don't know yet. I'm hoping so, though." He told her. They had been making plans to meet up in December, but the man's schedule had been immensely packed.
Jennie sighed softly once again, the two going silent. Jennie slightly flinched at the sound of her front door opening, and slamming abruptly. She peaked her head out her bedroom doorframe to see her apartment roommate storm into the house, making her way to the living room.
Jennie's eyebrows furrowed, and it wasn't until Grayson spoke up again when she put her focus back on the screen.
"I should probably go now. I still have to study."
"Oh, shit. Right—" Jennie began, "Your exams. Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you from studying."
"It was a team effort. We both know I'd much rather call you than bury my nose in a textbook." Grayson replied, causing Jennie to give him a familiar look, "Too corny?"
"A little. But it was cute." She grinned at him, before pulling her computer closer to her, ultimately making her closer to the screen, "Text me after you finish. There's a football game later tonight, so I'll be up late anyway."
"Another game?" Grayson questioned, "Are you actually going to pay attention to it this time?"
"I always pay attention!" Jennie defended herself.
"Last time you went, you accidentally rooted for the wrong team."
"Okay, and I've changed. This is new-and-improved Jennie you're talking to." She continued, sitting up straighter, "New Jennie has school spirit. 'Go Bulldogs!'"
"The lions." He corrected her.
"Thats what I meant." Jennie sighed in frustration, successfully amusing Grayson "Whatever, go study!"
"Fine," He chuckled, "I'll talk to you later. Love you."
She smiled softly.
"Love you too."
Jennie sighed after the call ended, closing the laptop in front of her. She took a quick glance at her window once more, seeing the snow continuing to fall. It wasn't long after that when her focus was interrupted, hearing a thud in her living room.
She pinched her eyebrows together, making her way into the room, to see her roomate on the couch.
"Hey, Rach? You okay in here?"
Rachel turned back to the girl, and then pointed to the broken TV remote on the floor, which seemed to have been broken due to rage, "We don't have a remote anymore."
"Oh— wow." Jennie accidentally blurted out in surprise, but quickly tried to compose herself for the comfort of her friend, letting out a forced laugh, "Um, it's okay, we can buy another one. Psh, it's not like we need one anyways. . .I mean, it was, like, twelve dollars, and then the worker tricked me into paying sixteen, and that's like— less than what I make in an hour at my job, but—"
Jennie was quick (yet, not quick enough) to realize she was rambling, immediately stopping herself.
"Forget what I just said." The girl told her, before going over, and sitting next to her roomate on the couch , "Are you okay?"
Rachel didn't look at her, "Yes."
Yet, she could sense Jennie's knowing look.
"No." She sighed, rubbing her face in her hands, "I don't know."
Jennie chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to find the correct words to say to her friend. That is, until she finally sighed, her demeanor perking up as she made a suggestion, "Want some hot cocoa?"
Rachel looked at the girl, before chuckling softly.
"No thanks. I think I'll just sit here, with my blankets, and my pillows, and—" She paused, noticing the lifted weight from the other side of the couch, "You're already making the cocoa aren't you?"
"Aw, you know me so well."
—
JENNIE soon came back to the living room, two mugs in her hand. Carefully, she handed one to her roommate, Rachel. The latter nodded in gratitude, her mouth tugging into a small smile.
The room fell into a small silence. Jennie looked out the window again, her eyes following the snow as it gracefully fell from the sky. For an unknown reason, it was a bittersweet sight. She then looked back at Rachel, seeing her eyes focused on the wall in front of her.
"What's on your mind?"
The roommate sighed, shrugging slightly, "Stuff."
Jennie nodded, muttering as she hid her lips behind her cup, "Informative."
The room fell into a silence, Jennie's eyes remaining on her roommate. With every passing second, she gained more concern towards Rachel.
"Rach..." Jennie softly sighed, "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. But if you do, you know I'm always here for you. Always."
Rachel was the one to sigh this time, looking down at the mug in her hands, as her thumb traced the ceramic.
"Have you ever felt like— everything is just a big waste of time? Like, spending your whole life trying and reassembling to be perfect. Only to have the world trash those plans." Rachel shook her head, "It sounds stupid, I know—"
"It doesn't sound stupid." Jennie replied, almost immediately.
A beat of silence aired through the room.
"It doesn't?"
"Not at all." Jennie shook her head, surely, pausing briefly, "I knew a girl who was so horridly frightened to seem any degree of inadequate or imperfect, that the act of trying at all was enough to paralyze her with doubt."
Rachel replied after a short chuckle, "Well, let me meet her. Seems like she and I have a lot in common."
You're talking to her right now, is what aired through Jennie's mind for a faint moment.
"I mean, is this what the rest of my life is going to be like?" The roommate questioned, "Am I just going to live in fear? Not knowing what, or who can come my way? Is that how this mess works?"
Jennie let the girl's words soak in for a second, before her voice came out with a soft yet unfortunate tone, "I wish I could say no."
Rachel's eyes glistened, as she sighed in defeat.
"How do you do it?"
Jennie pinched her eyebrows together slightly.
"How do you accept it?" The roommate looked over at the brunette, "How do you accept that there are certain things, certain people, that can just— ruin your life in a split second. How are you supposed to continue? How are things supposed to get better?"
Jennie didn't know an exact answer.
To be fair, probably no one does.
Jennie, for one, had suffered an immense amount of experiences that she considered rendering— to say the least.
She knew that PTSD was a rocky road to go over, yet was unfortunate to not know how long the road was. Trauma— so much trauma, things, incidents to heal from, without necessarily knowing how to heal from them. Therapy, talking it out, taking medicine— it was all merely the textbook ways of how she could get better. How she planned to get better.
But then suddenly, one loud noise, and Jennie Hotchner's mind would descend to images, flashes, noises. The sight of blood, the flickering of lights, the sounds of screams. Memories from her biological mother, George Foyet, the bank robbery. And suddenly, the textbook ways of coping meant nothing to her.
Rossi had confronted her about it quite recently, after a certain softball tournament them and the team went to so they could support Morgan and Reid. He noticed a small, reoccurring flinch that would occur whenever the umpire would yell. She felt embarrassed— she didn't even realize the certain repeated action. And ultimately, being aware of it made her tiredly question to herself:
How the hell do I heal myself, and why can't anyone give me a straight answer?
Again, Jennie didn't know the answer.
No one does.
But with Rachel looking over at her, with saddened eyes and a reddened nose, Jennie felt compelled to give the question a shot.
"Recovery—" Jennie paused for a moment, a soft sigh escape her lips, "Recovery isn't a linear path. It's not something that can be one-and-done. It's— it's messy, and it's frustrating. It's something that can build you up, but can also tear you down. But, all in all— it's good."
Rachel allowed Jennie to gently interlock their hands, giving a squeeze that illuminated comfort and support.
"You're a medical law major. Think of it in that sense." Jennie told Rachel, "A heart monitor goes up, and down, and down, and up. And when it's flat? You're dead. Life's kinda like that."
Rachel soaked in the girl's words for a moment, the corner of her lips slightly curving upwards, "That was incredibly corny."
The two broke out into a laughter, as the roommate rested her head on Jennie's shoulder, finding a strong form of solace in the girl.
"I know." Jennie admitted, glad to see the girl smile, "I know. All I'm saying is— tumbling down once in a while doesn't make you any less recovered, or any less strong. And it sucks...but, it sucks a little less when you remember all the good things; all the little things."
She looked out the living room's window for a split second, and suddenly the sight of snow falling didn't make her feel the same form of distaste she had when on the phone with Grayson.
Because early, the sight of snow brought her to one conclusion : her strength for recovery was no bigger than a snowflake.
A small, wispy snowflake.
But now, after her conversation with Rachel, Jennie realized that a snowflake wasn't a negative analogy.
Because really, what people fail to see, is how complex snowflakes actually are. There are six dendrites, or arms (as Jack loved to call them ), of a snow flake. Six sides. And even more specifically, there were details such as grooves, ridges, rimes— all carefully crafted onto one singular snowflake. And when a substantial amount fall on top of each other, they form something even more magical.
So the idea of her strength being equated to a snowflake no longer scared, or embarrassed her.
It eventually became a source of satisfaction. Like she had found a missing piece to the puzzle of her recovery.
Deciding to skip the football game that night, Jennie and Rachel spent the rest of the evening hanging out in the comfort of their apartment. They talked about their lives, exchanged worries for their upcoming exams, and laughed about every amusing thing that was brought up in the conversation. Not to mention, Jennie made at least six more hot cocoas that night.
Later, nearing midnight, Jennie answered a facetime call from Grayson. The call allowed him to finally hear the ramble he'd been waiting for— seeing Jennie smile ear to ear as she talked about the snow outside her window.
Although Jennie knew that amazing and heartwarming moments like these wouldn't last forever— she knew that they were sufficient enough to help her for when she struggled in the future. Because, really, a prolonged time with this feeling of immense happiness is, and always will be, her reason for recovery.
And for a gift like that, she didn't care how much she tumbled down. All that mattered was that she would be able to get back up.
—
AUTHOR'S NOTE |
yes, i said i would update soon in my last chapter. yes, it's been almost three months. i am a liar. 😔
anyways, hi!!! ive missed u all so much!! so much has happened in the time i was away. thank you to all who have been so patient, i appreciate you more than you'll ever ever ever know!! i hope everyone has had/is having a nice time during the holidays!
word count.
2325.