Shark of Spades

Relapse Part II

My skin suddenly felt cold, and I checked his eyes. He was totally serious. "No, Jack. You can't."

"Then tell me."

"Why do I have to?"

His eyes were focused on mine so intensely that every atom in my being was  driving me to look away, but I couldn't. "Because you can't keep relying  on yourself for everything. You have us, now. You're not alone anymore, Card."

"I've been just fine on my own, from the time I was sent to a camp to when Evan died and even when we shared an apartment, Jack. I've been by  myself basically my entire life, so why would I need someone like you or Evan now?"

"Because you're human," he said simply. "Everyone craves a little it of human company every now and then. It's how we were made."

"Yeah, well, I don't."

"That's a lie," he said with enough conviction to shake my previous confidence. "You act like you never feel anything, you act like you don't want or  need us, you act like you're always fine, but you're not, Card. Nobody can live like that."

I crossed my arms. "I've lived like that so far, and I can keep going, too. Just watch me."

He sighed, and his grip on my shoulders momentarily loosened before he held on stronger, a determined look in his eyes. "Okay. You keep  believing that if you want to. You'll figure it out by yourself someday, however long that may take, but that's not the real issue right now. Stop worrying about why you should tell me and just tell me what happened tonight." He was glaring at me threateningly by the time he finished.

I looked away for a moment, readying my expression, and when I looked back at him, my eyes were full of reluctantly unveiled pain. "I just had  a nightmare about seeing Evan die." Feed him information he already knows.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"No, not 'really' as in did it really happen. I meant did you really think that you could just lie to me like that?" he asked angrily, looking downright furious. My mouth opened a little bit, utterly shocked that  he'd seen through me so quickly, but he wasn't done. "Now hurry up and tell me the damn truth this time, or I swear, I'm going straight over to where Evan is staying right now and dragging him back by his pinkie finger."

Now it was my turn to be angry, like we were playing some kind of therapeutic ring around the rosie, anger-venting style. "I don't want to tell you because it's painful, okay? It hurts," I finally admitted, the first time I'd admitted that I had human flaws  since...(can't remember a time ever). "It hurts, and I thought I'd gotten over it, but I still feel like I'm suffocating no matter how much I breathe because I can't breathe with the way my life is right now." Oh, please, don't cry. If I cry, I might end up just grabbing my gun and ending it all.

His grip on my shoulders loosened and he leaned back a little bit, looking as sweet as I had ever seen him (maybe because he wasn't talking much).  Then he asked hesitantly, "Is this about...Fitz?"

All at once, my vulnerability was replaced with unquenchable anger, and I threw the pillow at him. "Not everything is about Fitz, damn it! What is it with you?"

"Then who's Fitz?" he asked tactlessly, not bothering to hide his curiosity but trying not to appear jealous.

"Fitz," I ground out, "is the asshole who gave me my tattoo and then tried to turn me in to the cops."

His expression turned from minor jealous to barely concealed hatred. "What an asshole."

"Yeah, I know. Tell me about it." I stared angrily at my crossed arms, upset all over again at Fitz's betrayal even though it had been a week since  I'd dreamt of him and a half a decade after the actual event.

"So, just to clarify," Jack began lightly, "you two never-"

"Did anything, ever," I replied, now glaring at Jack before going back to staring at my arms.

"But that's not all, is it?" he asked sensitively, as though he suddenly realized that yes, this was difficult for me to tell him.

Giving up with a sigh because I knew that he could read me as well as Evan, I nodded. "After Fitz..." I paused, unsure if it was safe to trust him with this, but when I looked at his eyes, he looked like he cared. And  besides, I hadn't told anyone, ever. Maybe he was right about the need for human company. "After Fitz, I went back to my house for the first time since Evan died, only when I met my mom..." I sighed, leaning back  against the pillow and staring blankly at the wall. "When I met my mom, she didn't even recognize me. Thought I was working for a magazine or  whatever. I feel like such a selfish idiot for saying all this. There's people who are worse off with me. They've had their entire family murdered, or they were an orphan from birth, or they were abused  or...all sorts of things. And here I am getting all upset just because the woman who gave birth to me didn't recognize me after not seeing me for nine years." I tried to smile at the wall, but it didn't work (possibly because I rarely smile in the first place, so faking it is near impossible for me). "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. It's not like I'm..." I was about to say It's not like I'm upset, but that wasn't true and Jack would know it.

"Your mom doesn't deserve to know you, in that case," he said quietly, as though he understood, and I finally looked over at him. He looked  infinitely sad, and as though he thought my pain was equal to everyone else's. "There's not winning or losing in how much pain you're feeling. There's not some ranking for that, or a point value system. Everyone's  pain is felt differently, depending on how much pain they've had in their life. You can't compare it with other people, only with yourself.  If her reaction hurt you that much, then you're damn well justified." He paused. "Card...Misa...it's okay for you to open yourself up like this,  you know. If you're ever hurting, you can tell me." He reached out and took one of my hands in his, and I suddenly felt a little bit more peaceful. I eventually fell back asleep, still holding his hand, and thinking to myself, This is the first time he's ever called me Misa.