There's No Place Like Home (Marianas Trench / Josh Fiction)

Part 8

*a.n. Sorry for the late update. This story has taken on a life of it's own. I find I'm writing just what comes along, I'm not sure if that is good or not but hopefully it works. Please tell me what you think, Tks.*

Izzy barley said a word as we left the hospital, hours later. She was still in shock, she had been given the few personal items from her Gran in an envelope, which she kept clutched tightly to her chest. A Family Ring, a Necklace and Grandma Ruth’s glasses, it was heartbreaking to see that such a vibrant life can be capsulated into a small manila envelope. I lead Isabelle to the car I had rented and start driving her home. She just stares blankly out the window, the tears had stopped for now, quite possibly because she had nothing left to shed and she had become totally numb.  This worried me to no end, what could she be thinking right now? Was she going to be able to get over this, the death of the only real family she had ever known, it was a lot to handle.   I also wasn’t sure if I was up to the task of helping her though it, was I able to be strong enough for the two of us? I turned down Langely Road, her house was just partway up the block. “Where Are You Going?” She suddenly blurted out, her voice hoarse and panicked. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin through my leather jacket. I pulled over and stopped the car afraid she would grab the steering wheel next. I look over at her terrified face, her eyes still swollen and red from crying “I’m taking you home. You haven’t slept in 2 days. You need a rest, then I’ll help you sort things out.” I said calmly as possible, hoping to sooth her noticeable stress. She looked down the road, her breathing became heavy and she looked back at me with total horror in her eyes “NO! I CAN’T” she yelled, she started squirming in her seat, trying to get her seatbelt off. I knew she would run if she could get it undone and out of the car. I reached over and pulled her close, kissing her forehead and whispers “Shhh.. it’s okay. You don’t have to... it’s okay.” I stroked her hair trying my best to calm her. I could feel her shaking, she was having a full out panic attack, all the colour had left her face she was so pale, a china doll, ready to break at the slightest bump. She looked up at me again pleading “I can’t go home! I can’t go back in that house! That’s where she... she...” Izzy never finished her sentence, the tears came flooding back. A choked whisper of “anywhere but there” escaped her lips. It killed me seeing her like this, I knew she needed a rest and that she was going to get “I’ll take you somewhere else then.” I said as I double checked her seatbelt and then put the car back in gear and turned around heading away from 1985 Langley Road.

I checked us into the Delta Hotel in Downtown Edmonton, she had waited in the car while I got the room key then returned and carried her up to the room. She felt so frail in my arms, her face nuzzled into my collarbone, her arms clasp tightly around my neck. I placed her gently on the bed, as I unclasped her hands and tried to tuck her under the sheets, she let out a helpless “don’t leave me.” I nodded “Never!” as lay down beside her, she snuggled in close and rested her head on my chest, my hand immediately when to the back of her head delicately stroking my fingers through her hair. She never asked but I knew it made her feel better so I started softly singing “ When your tears are spent on your last pretense....” by the time I finished the song she was sleeping soundly in my arms. I sighed and kissed the top of her head, I wished that I could kiss her pain away, but I knew I couldn’t so I just had to be there for her the best I could. I lay there quietly with her all night, afraid to move and wake her.

We spent the next day in that same spot, I did convince her that she might feel a little better after a shower and some food, of course she proved me wrong and wouldn’t leave the bed or my side afterwards. I made some phone calls and helped make the funeral arrangements. Karen came by with some clean clothes for Izzy and sat with her while I called the guys and told them what was going on. I unfortunately had to fly to Quebec City and join them for another show the next morning. It broke my heart, I hated leaving her but I also didn’t want to disappoint our fans or the guys for that matter. Sometimes this lifestyle really sucked. The funeral would be in 3 days time, and I vowed that I would be there no matter what, even if it meant flying across the country again and again.

The show went good, I know I wasn’t my usual bouncy self but once I was on stage feeling all that Love, it made things a little better. The next night was Montreal, I talked to Izzy and she seemed a little better, I actually saw a small smile on her lips during our chat. I knew it would take some time but I really missed her laugh, I longed to hear it again. In the early morning hours on the day of the funeral the guys and I flew into Edmonton, Karen and Izzy met us at the airport. The colour had come back to her face and she smiled as she rushed into my arms. They had just checked out of the hotel because Izzy had said she couldn’t go back to the house without me there, it was sweet that she needed me so much, but again Lifestyle could cause problems with that.

When we pulled up into the driveway Izzy’s grip on my hand tightened, man this girl had a good grip, and those nails, well they leave marks. She reluctantly climbed out of the car and stood stiff in the driveway staring at the front door. “It’s okay, I’m here” I said wrapping my arm over her shoulder. Mike steeped up on the other side of her “We all Are. You’ll be fine.” I nodded at him in thanks, it was great to know that your friend were always there for you. Izzy made it thought the day with us all by her side, yes many tears were shed, but I did hear her laugh, when one of Ruth’s old friends told a couple of stories. It turns out Grandma Ruth was a Wild One in her younger days, maybe that was why I liked her so much.