xp_logs | LOG: [Jennie, Haller] A death in the family

Last night Jennie had her regular phone call with her mother.

This morning she got another.

He found himself looking at her hands, wrapped around the soda bottle in her lap. Magenta nail polish, he noticed distantly. Five rings, and black rubber bracelets. Those aren't the hands of someone expecting this, came the absurd thought.

Those aren't the hands of someone who got up this morning and thought she'd be told her mother was dead.

"Don't worry about the travel arrangements," Jim said after a long moment. "I'll take care of it. Your grandmother said you can stay with her and your grandfather in Santorini, but if you'd rather not I can look into some hotels for you." He gave her a small, sad smile. "We can get into the details later."

Jennie blinked at the carpet. Mr. Haller's voice sounded filtered, like it was coming from someplace far away. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she was still having trouble breathing. "Okay," she said distantly. This couldn't be happening. She had just talked to her. "How...how could she have a stroke? She wasn't old. She was 45. You can't have strokes when you're 45."

"Sometimes these things just happen." Jim bit back 'Are you okay?'. She wasn't. "That doesn't help to hear. I know." He paused, trying to push down the dull ache in his chest. "Is there anyone you'd like me to call?" he asked softly.

Jennie barked a laugh. "No, I...no. You talked to my family, and I haven't even talked to them yet. Ever. And the whole school probably heard me earlier." In another time, she would have been embarrassed. She didn't care right now. "This isn't happening, is it? I'm dreaming." She pressed her thumbs to her forehead. "Please be dreaming."

"No. I'm afraid you're not." He would have given anything not to be the one telling her this. Anything. For all the good that did. Jim stared at his hands on the desk, then raised his eyes to hers. "I'm so sorry, Jennie."

Sorry. Jennie had often wondered if saying you were sorry to someone who had just had someone they loved die would help at all. Now she had her answer. It really didn't. "Oh god." Jennie said softly. Her hands shook, and she mechanically took a swig of soda. It tasted bitter. "This really.....sucks."

Again he felt that faint, sad smile twist at his mouth. "Like nothing else," he agreed quietly. It was all he could say.

Jennie didn't want to know. She could feel the shared pain between them, the air was thick with it. But Jennie was having trouble with her own grief as it was. So she selfishly said nothing. "Is someone going to have to go with me?"

Jim shook his head. "Not if you don't want them to. But I think it might be easier for you if you weren't alone. Even if you don't actually want to talk with them. Can you think of anyone you might be okay with being there?"

"I dunno, Mr. Dayspring maybe." He probably wouldn't mind going her. "And Marius.... possibly." He wouldn't turn down a free trip to Greece. And Jennie, for some strange reason, felt like she needed him. And she also wisely knew that if she ever admitted as much, he would never let her live it down. But she wanted something normal, something that was part of her life, if she was going to traipse halfway around the world to meet relatives that hadn't known she'd existed until last week.

This time Jim's smile was slightly less strained. "I don't think either one will have a problem with that. I'll ask them, if you want. I don't know about Marius, but Nathan at least doesn't seem to be involved in blowing anything up this week."

Jennie snorted a little too loudly. The room was spinning. "I'm, I mean, can you....? Ask them if they would come? If they could sit next to each other on a plane and not kill each other?" It was sad when two people she was close to couldn't stand to be in the same room. Mostly because one had this very bad habit of attacking and eating the other.

Oh, right. Nathan and Marius were slightly . . . incompatible. "If we want to be on the safe side," Jim said blandly, "I'll book them on opposite ends of the flight and save everyone the international incident. But honestly, I don't think it'll be a problem. Don't worry about it." And if they do anything to make this situation worse for her, I will personally smack both of them.

Jennie got a visual of the two of them glaring at each other from opposite ends of the plane and her lips twitched. "That.....would be nice." She had to pack, if they were going to Greece. Holy crap, they were going to Greece. "When are we going? When do I have to be ready?"

Jim thought back to the conversation with Jennie's grandmother. "The funeral is Monday, so you might want to head out tomorrow morning. I know it's short notice, but it would leave you a little time to recover, at least."

"Right. Recover." Jennie said dully. She was now living in a world where her mother no longer existed. How would she recover? "It's not fair." Jennie said quietly. "I just started to get her back. I had a mother again. It's. Not. FAIR." She punctuated the last sentence by flinging the soda across the room. It hit the wall with a bang and bounced off the carpet. Mercifully, the cap was on tightly.

Jim watched the bottle roll slowly across the carpet, his face impassive. The contents rippled and foamed from the impact. "It's not fair," he agreed softly. "And it never will be. I wish I could tell you differently. But I can tell you this: you'll get through this. And one day, farther away than you ever thought you could make it, it won't hurt as much." He raised his mismatched eyes back to her own. "I know 'one day' isn't enough . . . but it's all I have. I'm sorry."

Jennie buried her face in her hands. "I'm so tired." She sad in a small voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

Jim shook his head sharply. "Don't apologize for being angry. You have every right to be. There's a time and place to be mature and responsible. Don't let anyone make you believe this has to be one of them." He exhaled, his tone softening again. "Screw the rest of the world for the day. Take some time for yourself. You owe yourself that much. Your mother, too."

Jennie drew in a big shuddery breath. "Can I go to my room now? I want..... I want to be alone for a while." In her room, her universe. Where her things were in order and everything was in its place.

He was going to have an episode after this. It was as solid a reality as the desk under his hands. Davey was going to take over, and for a little while he would forget what it was like to watch Jennie's heart break. Just for a little while.

But not yet.

"Go," Jim told her. "I'll let your suitemates know what's going on." He still wasn't entirely comfortable with using his telepathy that way, but right now it was an exception he was prepared to make. Thinking of Scott only a few days ago he added, "No one will be bothering you in the halls on your way, either."

Jennie put her hands in her lap and tried to will her body to stand. Her body felt like lead. "Okay." She said softly, finally managing to push out of her chair. "I appreciate it." She stumbled out of the office in a daze without even looking back.

As she reached for the doorhandle Jim extended his mind to hers. The contact was light, a brush of awareness that lasted only the space of one heartbeat to the next, but sincerely meant. Gentle reassurance -- not that it was all right, but that it would be.

In time.

#Take care, Jennie.#

Jennie paused, briefly, and with her back still to him she nodded. Then she left the room as quickly as she could.