Lockwood & Co. Oneshots and AUs

Memories Don't Die

~ Jessipps ~

It was a tradition. Sit in the grass and talk to her. Quill did this a few times every year.

It was relaxing to tell her everything. To get those ideas off his chest. To clear his head of thoughts. Every visit to her held a different story, some funny, some somber.

This visit was no different from any others. He sat in the grass, just about a foot or two away, and he let his thoughts run.

"Front page of the papers this week." He began. "The kids are good. Not like I'd ever tell them though. I know for sure Tony and Cubbins would let it get to their heads."

A gentle breeze on a freezing autumn day had Quill tucking himself inside his coat.

"I tell you, those two numb-skulls will take just about anything I say and distort it. Especially Cubbins." He thought for a moment. "But the girls aren't too bad. Lucy has a good head on her shoulders and thank God Holly knows human decency."

Another breeze, and the faint sound of leafs rustling in the trees. A few fell of and gently danced their ways to the ground.

"But I suppose every team has it's ups and downs. Remember us?" He reminisced, "How bad we were at times? I barely spoke English when we first met!"

He stopped, eyes following another falling leaf. Nostalgia flooded his senses. A longing for how things used to be swept over his thoughts.

"Remember when we first met?" He asked. "We ran into each other at the church. Literally ran into each other. Remember my barely coherent apology? A strange mix of English and Irish. I wonder just how stupid I sounded to you." He gave a brisk chuckle.

The sun held high in a partially cloudy sky. The rest of the world seemed distant. Not that Quill would ever complain about that. The fast pace, ghost infested world was much more cold and harsh than any winter day. Another brisk breeze flew past Quill. His coat was wrapped tightly around his body, in hopes if some physical heat.

"And we continued to meet. So much that we had to have conversations. Here and there, small things about our real lives. We learned so much about each other." Quill smiled to himself. "You were fascinating, wonderful, amazing! I swear there wasn't a time that I didn't want to talk to you. I was so shocked when you agreed to go and a date with me." He admitted. "Relieved, excited, and shocked."

He looked straight ahead of him and reached out to touch the cold gravestone before him. His fingers, by instinct, traced the name.

Jessica Lockwood

Quill swallowed the pain in his throat.

"Remember how much Tony hated me?" He laughed. "Neither of us had the guts to tell him that we were more than friends. He always knew better, though."

Painful memories drowned him at this point, as he fought back tears.

"I never told him. Never had the heart."

Another cold breeze swept past him. This time, he didn't seek warmth in his jacket.

"Remember," His voice broke, "how much we love you? How much we miss you?" Tears escaped his eyes, meeting the cold air. "How much I miss you?"

He leaned forward until his forehead touched the cold stone. And he let himself cry. Memories of better times now had him destroyed, wishing for something that couldn't be.

He knew what was reality. He knew there was no way she could hear him. She wasn't there anymore. She hadn't been there for a long, long time. What they shared was long dead, rotting with her in her grave. The grave that Quill was weeping at.

But the memories were very much alive. They were some of the spirits that followed him everywhere. They would always be a part of him. Not that he would ever wish to forget those good times. Those memories had kept him over the years. Those memories had been something to cling to in hard times. The memories of happiness and contentment.

They were still alive. And if they were still alive, somehow, she was too.

Quill pulled back from the stone and whipped his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"How long has it been? Eight, nine years?" He pondered. "Who cares? It's been a long time and we still miss you."

It was more relaxing to think she was gone for good rather than she could still come back. Because if she did come back, she wouldn't be the Jess he knew. Hell, she wouldn't be Jessica at all. She would be the harsh, distorted memory of Jessica Lockwood. She'd be one of the monsters that they fought every night. And that was a thought Quill just couldn't bear.

"Tony's still just as torn up as he was at your funeral, you know. Not that I blame him. Your last immediate family gone. I'd probably be the same way." He told. "Don't think he or I will ever completely be over you."

A soft breeze came past him, just enough to cause a chill, but not enough to freeze.

"You know, he's obsessed with Lucy. It almost reminds me of how obsessed with you he was." He gave a quick chuckle. "Remember how he would actively stand in between us when he caught us talking? That funny glare he would send my way? I can tell you, he now does that for Lucy. It's almost like he hasn't changed!"

Funny memories of messing with young Anthony flooded his head. There were times where he would tease Anthony. Just enough to earn a small giggle out of Jessica. Trouble used to (and still does) follow him everywhere. It was the small things Quill poked at. And that habit hadn't changed.

"Not that I blame him. She's just like you. Stubborn, feisty, sarcastic, qualities like that." A sudden sharp cold breeze hit him. "We love her all the same though. I've never seen someone so dedicated or loyal to her work. Not to mention she can keep the boys alive. God knows how she survived the first two years living alone with them."

A slow, calm atmosphere settled over him.

"How is it? On the Other Side? How are your parents?" Quill asked to the girl he knew wasn't there. "Hope you aren't waiting for Tony or I. We would hate to see you come back as Specters or worse. Knowing Tony, he'd let you kill him, if he didn't reach out to die first. But again, not like I blame him. I'd do the same."

A tranquil breeze brought cold to his already freezing bones. He didn't much care though. He had been colder on cases.

Quill sighed, reaching out to touch the stone again. Another breeze that blew leafs across the graveyard touched him. Years had gone by and he still couldn't move on, no matter how hard he tried. And Quill was, for once, okay with the fact that he couldn't move on. He knew Jess wouldn't be if she knew.

"Guess I should get back to the kid now. They'll need all the help they can get tonight." He took a look at the sky as the wind swept over him. If only he could spend more time in a day just resting at her grave, maybe he could find a little more peace. He looked down at the grave, the flowers he had placed in front of the stone. He gave the stone a pat and sighed.

"Well, I'll be back soon enough. Might not come back when it's snowing this year though." He muttered to himself. "Until next time." He concluded. He looked to the two graves next to hers, paying Celia and Donald Lockwood a bit of respect before leaving. A strong breeze overcame him, almost knocking him off his feet. He zipped his coat up tightly as he walked out of the cemetery.