Jack laid on her bed, her eyes closed as she listened to her own shallow breaths. A single hand wrapped around an object that hung from a chain around her check. She was pulling the chain downwards, and it cut into the back of her neck. She released another breath, for now it was quiet. It had not been so just before.
* * *
"CHA-A-ASE!" Jack sobbed, sending her pets running away in fear. Jack's voice cracked, dry, and tears poured down her face. "I'M SORRY!"
* * *
There was a knock on her door at approximately seven o'clock that night. Jack looked up from the drink she was making, putting a vial down next to it. She walked to the door, opening it. A man in plain khakis looked at her, squinting.
"Are you Ms. Dyllan?" he asked.
Jack nodded, gripping the door. "Yeah. What do you need?"
* * *
Jack was feeling terrible that night. She walked in at six o'clock and fell on the couch, numbly staring at the ceiling. The house was so quiet. Too quiet. She missed random crashes, yelps of pain, cheers of triumph. All of the things she would hear and immediately get up to investigate, always finding Nemo Omara in some sort of trouble.
She missed her best friend.
About half an hour passed, and there was no change in her demeanor. But what could she do? She did feel much better after talking to Matt. He honestly had lifted a weight from her. She felt as though Nemo would be found, could be. She would not have to harm her friend, and she did not have to compromise the Order. Nemo would be saved.
Jack sat up and turned the television on, almost feeling a shade of complacent contentedness as she put on an old comedy.
* * *
Jack rolled over on her bed, trying to get the events of the evening out of her head, but she was unable to. She pulled on the chair harder.
* * *
"I TRIED TO SAVE YOU, CHASE- I DID!"
* * *
"You have a package," the man in the khakis said, handing her a small parcel and scroll, before summoning a quill and piece of parchment. "Sign please?"
Jack did, though it was very cautiously. What packages were hand delivered nowadays? Especially so small a parcel. An owl could have easily carried it. She knew some companies sent men to deliver, and she knew they never owled legal documents.
She handed him the quill and the parchment, and he tipped his hat to her. "You have a nice night, miss."
"You too," she said, closing the door behind him.
* * *
The comedy was doing a good job of getting her mind out of her own life. Her family had settled around her. Elliot was at her feet, Mongo was licking her socks, and the Jarveys were curled up together next to her on the couch. She slowly stroked Fred, laughing every once in awhile at the jokes.
A sudden thirst crept up in her and she stood. "Drinks. Anyone want anything?" she teasingly asked the creatures. They slumbered on, so she stepped over her white dog and went into the kitchen, deciding on some hot chocolate. She put the kettle on.
* * *
Elliot whined at her bedroom door, but Jack ignored him. He scratched at the door and she rolled over. The dog ceased his noisemaking, but refused to leave. Jack closed her eyes. He cared too much about her. So had-
* * *
"Chase... Please believe me."
* * *
Jack walked in with the parcel going back in to the kitchen. The kettle was still whistling, but lowly, as it cooled off. She set the parcel down and made quick work of the envelope, ripping it open. A pristine piece of parchment fell out and she picked it up.
Chastity Moor wrote:This is the last will and testament for Chastity Evelyn Moor, it is to be effective in the case that Chastity Evelyn Moor were to die with any cause.
In the event of the death of Chastity Evelyn Moor, the estates still belonging to the Moor name are hereby given to Calvin S. Ransom, with joint ownership of Jaquellene Dyllan, if the need arises, for usage as they please.
Belongings, personal affects, and anything else that generally falls under the ownership of Chastity Evelyn Moor, are hereby given to Jaquellene Dyllan.
Anything not claimed by either Calvin S. Ransom or Jaquellene Dyllan is to be sold in an auction on a date determined by Jaquellene Dyllan.
Witnesses: (Written in their own handwriting)
Khaat Lupin
Brian Lupin
Signature:
(A loopy name scrawled across the bottom with a shaking hand)
Chastity Evelyn Moor
Jack stared at the paper, forgetting, completely, everything else.
* * *
As the kettle warmed, she began looking for a packet of hot chocolate. She pulled out a mug and continued opening and rifling through drawers, looking for the damn packets. She kept finding little reminders of Nemo- cigarettes, candy wrappers, his favorite brand of beer's bottlecaps. She kept looking.
Finally, she found it. She pulled out a packet, and in its place rolled a small vial. She looked at curiously, setting down the packet as she lifted it to read the label.
* * *
Elliot had not left. Jack sighed. She knew the dog was not going to leave her anytime soon. "Come," she whispered, and immediately his nails sounded upon the floor. He came around, putting his head on the bed, staring at her mournfully.
* * *
Jack gasped for air, pulling on her hair as she crumpled against the ground.
* * *
Jack stared at the letter. It had finally come. It came back to her. Jack was emptied of emotion and comprehension, so she turned to the parcel. Without expression, she ripped it open. There was a clatter as its contents fell to the tiled ground. She bent down and picked it up.
It was a small golden chess piece on a chain.
* * *
The label had been scrubbed out. Jack opened the vial and lifted it to her nose. She was glad she had suddenly improved in Potions during her final years, because even she was able to identify the substance as poison.
* * *
Elliot wagged his tail once. Jack let out another shaky sigh. "Thank you, boy." The dog's ears pricked forward curiously. "For being here."
* * *
"I should've been there sooner," she gasped, releasing her hair. She sat up, chest heaving. That was when her eyes fell on a small vial that had long since been forgotten.
* * *
Jack stared at the necklace and it began to set in. Chase's things were now hers. Because Chase was gone. The whole family was. The child, Calvin, and now Chase. Chase, who had been so strange for Jack and yet, so necessary. For whom Jack had subjected herself to Vito for. Chase, who might have lived had Jack simply let Vito die. If Jack were dead, Chase would be alive.
Jack stumbled, and Elliot barked in concern. She fell to her knees, beginning to hyperventilate. She heaved her breaths so quickly that she could not get air. Her vision was spotting, she was wavering.
"CHA-A-ASE!"
* * *
Jack sighed. Of course it was poison. She knew Nemo's suicidal mission, but somehow, it hurt to find reminders of it. The kettle began to whistle and she turned the stove off, pouring the hot water in her mug and setting the kettle down, where a low whistle continued to sound. She poured the packet in the mug and then picked up the vial again, simply looking at it.
That's when she heard a knock on the door. She glanced at the clock. Seven o'clock. Who could that be?
* * *
Elliot nestled his head closer, and Jack stroked his head serenely.
* * *
She stared at the vial a long time, before reaching a hand up, grabbing it from the counter top. Her hands shook. She pulled off the stopper and looked deep into it's murky depths.
* * *
She clutched the necklace. She was broken, cumpling, falling apart. "I'M SORRY," she begged for forgiveness. She could see Chase's corpse and Vito's gentle indifference. "I TRIED TO SAVE YOU, CHASE- I DID!"
* * *
Jack left the kitchen and the Jarveys ran through her legs, heading outside. Mongo began to rush the door, but she commanded him to the hall closet, where he often liked to nap. He left and she reached for the door.
* * *
Elliot licked Jack's face. She didn't move.
* * *
She pressed the side of the glass vial against her lips, feeling it. It was cold. It was nice.
* * *
She remained crumpled on the floor, tears still streaming. How would Chase ever know Jack's grief? She probably died thinking Jack had failed her. "Chase... Believe me." She wouldn't. She couldn't. Jack pulled at her hair, howling her anger. Vito had taken Chase from her too soon.
* * *
The door opened, revealing a man in khakis.
* * *
Elliot transformed into a smaller dog, hopping up and curling against her. Jack's hand hurt from the points on the chess piece, but she refused to release it.
* * *
Jack touched her lips to the opening of the vial, wondering, wishing.
* * *
Jack heaved a sigh and sat up, looking at the vial.
* * *
The man in khakis would give her a parcel that would interrupt everything. She would go into the kitchen. She'd open it. She'd collapse. She'd pick up a vial of poision.
* * *
She sat in her room, her breaths slowing as her faithful dog curled at her side.
* * *
The opening of the vial fit her lips perfectly. And she was ready to fall back and allow the contents to trickle into her throat. But...
Chase.
Chase.
Chase.
Nemo.
She felt a pang hit her. Why had she stayed alive for so long? Hadn't it been for the preservation of Chase? Do whatever it takes, just keep Chase alive. But she had failed. It seemed her mission had failed, leaving her no purpose. And Nemo... Hadn't she failed him too?
Matt's words fell on her ears like thunder. "You need to stay safe for Nemo."
Jack dropped the vial. It broke and began to soak up in the discarded envelope. Jack stood, shakily, gripping the necklace tightly in her hand. She walked upstairs and collapsed in her bed.
Jack laid on her bed, her eyes closed as she listened to her own shallow breaths, slowing her heart which had been racing so quickly before. A single hand wrapped around the chess piece that she had tightened around her neck on the walk upstairs. She released another breath, for now it was quiet. It had not been so just before.
It wasn't long before Elliot found her and convinced her to accept his company. He curled up next to her and after a long time, Jack's grip on the chess piece loosened. Her hands were bloodied from the points on the necklace digging into her skin. She shakily pet Elliot, letting out a breath that, she was glad to know, would not be her last.
by 
