Stand

The baseball hit the wall with a resounding crack, the plaster caving under the pressure. It should have left her feeling at least somewhat satisfied, but it didn't. She felt nothing at all. It left her just as empty inside staring at the curved in drywall. Slightly blunted fingers caressed the red thread that lined one of the many baseballs next to her. She had already thrown three at the wall hoping that something inside of her would change. She wasn't that fortunate. She wanted to yell and scream, but she didn't sem to have the strength. That required emotions that she could not claim.

Numb.

Now there was an emotion that she knew well and could claim. It was about the only thing she had felt for months. Her life had been low before, but it had never been this bad before. Then again, she had always had someone before, some who could promise to make it better if they really couldn't. There were people there, but it wasn't the same. They didn't know her. They didn't understand what she had been through and what losing Grandma Laureen, Marissa, and then Rick had done to her. Those three had been the only family that had ever meant anything to her.

Crack!

Another ball slammed into the crater she had created. White eyebrows furrowed towards each other as she turned around and looked behind her. "What are you doing here Meg?" he asked leaning forward and pressing big hands into the back of her chair. She wanted to resent him for being here, for enlarging the hole that represented her heart. She didn't feel it though. She was just numb. Nothing stirred inside of her. There was no regret. There was no pain. There was no sorrow, hope, or joy. Even looking back at him, she felt nothing. Instead she looked up at him and tried to discern the color of his eyes.

Green.

They were definitely some odd shade of green. Not that she could have said why the color mattered. She just couldn't help but notice it as he stared into her own dead eyes. Why was he bothering to pay attention to her? Why did it matter anymore when the only people who mattered were gone. They were dead and gone and they were never coming back. She turned around and leaned back against his unmoving hands to stare at the dent in the wall. His fingers let go of the chair only to rest on her shoulders. Resting there for a moment she almost reached up just to touch them. she hadn't touched anything but white leather and red threat in what felt like ages.

Tear.

A single drop of water fell down her cheek and splashed against her shirt. Reaching up, she touched the wet trail. Numb people didn't cry. She was numb. So how did she explain the second tear she could feel sliding from her eye and down the other cheek? Numb people could feel to cry. "Stop it," she whispered shaking her head. "Just go away Jack." The tears continued, falling faster and faster. A soft sob worked it's way up her throat until it burst forth. She felt upset. She was dying inside. She could actually feel and it hurt like hell. "Just-" she stopped as her voice cracked and hugged herself.

Holding.

Jack was holding her. His arms were cradling her tightly. Even as she sobbed and coughed out tears. "It's okay Megan," he cooed gently running his hand up and down her back. She could feel herself breaking. Like a hard worked muscle, her heart was tearing and regrowing, changing itself. Becoming stronger maybe? Or was it becoming more fragile? She couldn't have said. All she knew was that she was clinging to Jack for dear life and he wasn't letting her go. She was certain he would, but every moment, he kept proving her wrong. Every moment he continued to whisper into her ear words that she knew were supposed to encourage and endear.

Hope.

Somewhere in the faintest recesses in her being, she began to feel it stir inside of her. A part of her wanted to crush it down. To know hope was to allow yourself to be ruined. She had seen it time and time again. Why would that change now of all times? She didn't want to feel. She wanted to be numb. She wanted to remain forever numb. "I know it hurts," he whispered. "Don't make it hurt any worse." The words jarred her. She had told Rick that the day that he decided to take off in his car and plow it into a tree not far from where Marissa had died. Was she doing the same thing? The thought made her sick. Was she really being this selfish?

Pain.

It grew inside of her with the hope. It coiled around her heart squeezing and tearing. It had her gnashing her teeth together and clinging to Jack in desperation. "I hate you Jack," she forced through gritted porcelains. She felt the rumble build in his chest before it spilled from his lips. She should have known the words wouldn't hurt his feelings but a part of her had hoped that they might. If no one relied on her than she could break down. If no one cared for her than it didn't matter if she slipped away into nothing...

Did it?

"Do you feel better?" he asked. He didn't push her away and she didn't try to move as she leaned back against him. Her body was limp and the rivulets were drying along her cheeks leaving the barest memory of their passing. Her eyes felt red and puffy though she didn't dare to touch.

Allowing her eye lids to fall shut she felt as if she could just reach out with her heart and mind and take the energy and strength that Jack seemed to be offering her. "Will it ever stop hurting?" she asked. Her voice was a bare whisper, the first bit of true emotion in it since he had entered the room.

"No," he told her honestly. "It never stops hurting. You just push through it..."

"You never say die." Their voices mingled together as they spoke the words in a quiet harmony. She knew he was right. She didn't know if she would ever be able to admit it, but she knew he was right. She looked up at Jack, considering his face and whatever emotions there were that flitted across his face. "We have to go now don't we?"

"Yes," he agreed letting go of her for a moment. Megan hugged herself starting to curl in before she felt Jack's arms curling around her frame and picking her up.

"Will I..." she trailed off biting her lip and considering her words carefully. "Will I be able to come back?" She knew the answer already, but she had to ask the question. She had to have that fear confirmed. It was only fair in her mind.

"Yes." The answer jolted her. She looked up at Jack, hazel eyes wide in disbelief. The laughter began in his chest again before bubbling out over his lips. "You don't throw away what pains you Meg, you keep it close. It makes you strong." Her cheek fell and struck the denim of his jacket. Strong....

Strong....

Strong....

She wanted to be strong.