Not The One

A/N: Just in case you get confused, this first section is from Jack’s POV.

Chapter Seven: Confessions
by sammo_00

Jack never liked hospitals. They always had a feeling of neglect, of things left in the sun just a bit too long. He didn’t like prisons either, for that matter. But what would one expect, especially if your father was a convict. But Jack didn’t blame his father; he was just a victim of the system.

Being locked in a room day in and day out made Jack’s skin crawl, and he could imagine that dumb shit cop trying to turn the story around, make it seem as though Jack had grabbed the steering wheel and jerked the car into the path of the tractor trailer. Which was stupid, in Jack’s opinion. But that shit cop would make everyone believe that Jack was suicidal and that was his way of ending life.

Of course, considering what had happened in the car just moments to impact, maybe Jack was suicidal. What was he thinking, telling her he loved her? Of course she was going to freak out. At the very least, he should have waited until she wasn’t driving and a bit more calm. Oh hell, he shouldn’t have told her to begin with.

He had been in the hospital for almost four days, after awakening in a gurney in a rushing ambulance. The stupid fucking paramedics didn’t give him anything for the pain, so he had passed back out and hadn’t awoken until after they had set his broken leg.

Jack hadn’t seen or heard from Mary in those four days and he was frantic with worry. But no one had come in to arrest him for involuntary manslaughter or anything of that nature, so that meant that she was still alive, but how alive, he had no fuckin’ clue.

He shouldn’t have said anything. Should have kept his stupid fuckin’ mouth shut! But when he sat there and looked at the pain etched on her gorgeous face, her beautiful mouth trembling as she fought back tears, he couldn’t help himself. He had wanted her to smile, wanted her to laugh because he remembered her laugh and it made his entire being feel suffused with warmth.

Of course, he never should have agreed to anything that bitch had asked of him, but he couldn’t say no, not with that gun and a broken rib. And even after he walked in and saw Mary lying naked on that bed, her hand pleasuring herself, all he could think was that he was finally going to get to look deep in her eyes. It never really occurred to him what exactly was going to happen until Chuck pulled that knife at the beginning. That’s when things really started to hit home for Jack and he knew what he was going to do, and in that moment, he hated himself for being a weak coward. He should have fought harder for Mary’s sake. She was too pure; she didn’t need this. And he was going to be the one who destroyed her.

In the months following the attack, Jack kept going from psychiatrist to psychiatrist. For the most part, once they found out who he was, doctors didn’t want to help him anymore. And Jack knew that he wouldn’t be fine until he had asked for and received Mary’s forgiveness. If that never happened, well Jack was fully prepared for that outcome. But then he had blurted out his deepest feelings and watched the shadow fall over his world.

Not knowing was even worse than when he has inflicted the pain himself. And Jack was getting quite used to internal pain. All his life he had been rotten, never good enough. That’s why he could never approach Mary. It was so stupid of him to think that she’d ever offer him her precious time when he was such a disgusting human being. Even before the whole incident, Jack knew that he wasn’t deserving of Mary, of her beauty, her purity, her being. And afterwards, it just only served to solidify his beliefs that he was a piece of filth.

If he could, he would go back and gladly take a bullet before doing anything that would harm Mary. But he couldn’t and now he was stuck with that guilt and pain for the rest of his life.

Hospitals suck. They smell bad and the food is even worse. This time though, I could eat, though the drugs they were giving me made me feel entirely too nauseous to put food in my mouth. I guess though, when you’re in an accident with an eighteen wheeler, there’s bound to be some damage. Fortunately for both me and Jack, the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Apparently, I lost control of the car and sideswiped the tractor trailer. When I spun the wheel to compensate, the Jeep flipped twice and we landed upside down in the ditch. Lucky we were both wearing our seatbelts. The doctor loved telling me how I could have been thrown upwards of seventy feet through my bashed windshield if I hadn’t been wearing it.

I had a broken shoulder and my ankle was twisted, but it was my nose that hurt the most. Yes, my stupid nose was broken again. Maybe I should pull a Michael Jackson and get a new one. I hadn’t heard too much about Jack, aside from he had a broken leg and suffered a pretty severe concussion. Oh, and he was under police guard. Apparently the police believed that an unconscious guy with a broken leg was going to sneak out of the hospital.

And Jack. I had been thinking about him nonstop. For obvious reasons, the doctors wouldn’t let me get in a wheelchair and go over to his room, but I honestly wanted to know how he was doing. And if what he said was true, then he was going insane not knowing if I was ok or not. I finally got my chance later that afternoon.

When I told my mom about my desire to go see Jack, she understandably balked. More like she freaked out and swore she’d disown me. But I calmly tried to explain to her what was going through my head. She thought I was insane and told me as much, but I kept at her until she relented.

“Mary, I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I really wish you’d stop this foolishness,” she snapped at me as she helped me into the wheelchair. I guess she figured if I thought she was mad at me, I’d change my mind. I wasn’t entirely sure myself what exactly I was doing, just that something deep inside me needed this in order to move on.

The nightmares had, for the most part, stopped. I no longer woke in a cold sweat, believing the blanket wrapped around my legs was some disembodied person trying to drag me into unconsciousness. I didn’t stare at all guys through my sunglasses, believing that any guy who took a second look at me had ulterior motives and was looking to kidnap me and toss me in the back of a van, roaring off with me bound and gagged. The tremors had ceased, and I didn’t hide under the pillow when a girl got jumped on the television screen by some insane man with some sort of hellacious weapon.

I knew I wasn’t anywhere near the person I was a year ago, happy and carefree, ecstatically imagining the day when I finally achieved my desire and was bed by the man of my dreams. Unfortunately, that dream had been torn from me and what was even more disturbing was the mere thought that the man who had utterly destroyed me also loved me.

That in of itself made my brain hurt thinking about it. He sat there in my car and said those words to me, after sending me to a hospital, after I had to spend countless sessions with a woman about as interesting as a blade of grass, after me finding out the hard way that my sister was an insane delusional bitch. But to do something like that required great strength of mind, so maybe he really did. I mean, he wouldn’t waste his time and possibly his life to let me know if it wasn’t true. And I guess there was a grain of truth to it…even if I didn’t really want to believe it.

No! That’s nonsense. No guy loves a girl and rapes her in the presence of her sister, who just so happened to be the one who orchestrated the entire event. Things don’t just happen like that. Love is supposed to be lightning and thunderbolts and it’s supposed to make you happy and sad at the same time. You’re willing to do anything for that person, even if it means you may not ever hear them laugh again or see them smile at you. And if something goes wrong, you give up your everything to make things right because that’s how things work. You don’t hide behind a gun and an excuse and do something utterly despicable and then expect everything to be ok. It just doesn’t work like that!

A hand touched my cheek and I jerked in surprise, feeling a wetness on my cheeks I hadn’t known was there. I gazed upwards and found myself looking at Sam. For one brief moment, I debated kicking him out, but then I realized that he and I needed to talk. I nodded to my mom, who let Sam push the wheelchair back into my room, then shut the door behind him.

“What’s up?” I asked, cringing internally at the nasal sound of my voice. Sam smiled thinly and perched on the edge of the bed. I noticed he had huge bags under his bloodshot eyes and his clothes looked rumpled, as though he had been sleeping in them for days on end.

“I’m sorry to just show up like this unannounced,” he said, picking at his thumbnail and not meeting my eyes, “but I just had to see how you were and I didn’t think calling you was good enough.”

I nodded, and the memory of his twisted eyes shot through my head. I forced that thought down, I’m sure he had a good reason for it, let’s hear him out and looked at Sam expectantly.

“Well?” I prompted gently when he just sat there silently for a few moments. He took a deep breath and then looked up and I was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “Oh Sam,” I breathed, reaching forward to take his hand into my own.

“I’m so sorry Mary,” he mumbled, a single tear falling down his cheek. “I know I screwed up and I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Just the thought of that guy being around you, tainting you, I just kind of lost it.” He swallowed thickly and looked up, trying to stop the tears from falling. I shifted in the wheelchair, leaning forward a bit and held his hand tighter. His other hand came up to rest on mine and he continued. “Back when we first met, when I hid in the doorway to protect you, I was struck by how strong you were. Despite everything that had happened to you, you were still so strong and I felt so proud to have known you for even those few brief moments. The way you handled yourself, your composure, and even your demure attitude towards everything. It was quite possibly the most amazing thing I have ever seen. And I let myself believe that maybe I would be the one who would bring you back from the edge that you were so precariously teetering on. But then we left and I never heard from or saw you again and slowly that feeling began to fade. How could I save you when I didn’t even know who you were?”

“You wanted to save me?” I asked, a band slowly tightening around my chest. “Why?”

“Because you needed it,” he replied. His eyes blazed with such a fierce intensity that for a moment, I was almost tempted to look away, but then it was gone. “And I know that sounds stupid considering I knew how strong you were, but I also could see how fragile you were and I wanted to be the one there for you. But it wasn’t to be. And then we ran into each other again and once more, I began to allow myself to believe. But again, it wasn’t to be. Something about you clenched at my heart. And I don’t want you to think that this is me having a pity party for you, because I’m not. Seriously!” he added, pushing his hair out of his face, for I had laughed, a short sharp laugh that held the promise of tears. I shook my head at him.

“No, I understand what you mean. I mean, I don’t know what you mean, but I do, you know?” I said, trying to make him know that I knew where he was coming from, but with all the grace that I possess, I couldn’t do much more than babble. “Still, you want to explain to me why you pulled a gun on the guy who saved my life?”

“Because that should have been me,” Sam whispered, bowing his head. I could feel the heat of a tear strike the back of my hand. I went to reach up but he pulled back, pulling his other hand out of my grip. Then he stood up and walked over to the door, putting his back towards me. “It was so stupid!” he burst out, running both his hands through his hair. “I’d been hoping subconsciously to see you again and when I finally did, you owed your life to the very man who had once destroyed you so completely! I could see it in your eyes that day in the hospital. You tried to hide it, but deep inside, you will NEVER trust a guy again. And you might even try to convince yourself, but you’ll never really be happy with a guy. So here comes Jack the rapist, the man responsible for the twisted pain in your soul, and he once again destroys you. I know you don’t see it that way, but I do! And it’s killing me! Here you are, this amazingly beautiful young lady with so much going for her, and you’re now tethered to this maniac, whether you believe it or not.”

He took a deep breath and turned to me and I was surprised to see so much anguish and pain in his eyes, even from so far way.

“Sam,” I began, but he shook his head and talked over me.

“He destroyed you and then saved your life and I can’t even begin to imagine what is going through your head. And then you drove off with him in the car and God knows what other crap he tried to feed you, trying to assuage his own guilt. And once again, I am in this position to be there for you but I can’t do it. I just can’t do it Mary, not unless you let me. And I want to, I swear to God I want to, but I won’t do it without you. But to answer your question,” he took another deep breath, his eyes not wavering from mine as he walked back towards the bed to sit down next to me again, “the reason I held a gun to his head was because he deserves to die for what he did to you and no amount of good he does will ever negate what he did to you. Ever,” he finished emphatically.

I just sat there. I couldn’t even think. I had so many thoughts running through my head that I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. So I did the only other thing I could think of. Leaning forward, I gently pressed my lips to Sam’s.