|
Show Some Emotion by Jennifer Campbell by Joan Armatrading Show some emotion Some people hurting I said Some people in love I said Come on try =============================== Title: Show Some Emotion Author's notes: Thanks to Nacey for the lyrics. I had a terrible time thinking what to write, which is why it's taken me so long to post. I started on a happy story, but that went nowhere. So I tried for something sad and painful, and it worked just fine. I wonder what that says about my state of mind. Anyway, here it is, and I hope you enjoy. =============================== Joxer didn't want to wake from his beautiful dream, but he couldn't stop his eyes from drifting open. As he woke further, he found himself laying on a wide bed, too soft for his taste, in a room at the roadside inn where he had checked in the night before. A cool, gentle breeze came through the second-story window, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of sheep country. The first streaks of dawn streamed into the room. He had been dreaming about Gabrielle again, the two of them in compromising positions that brought a blush to his cheeks just thinking about it. The dream wasn't a new one, but this time it had felt so real he could remember everything -- the slickness of sweat on her skin, the weight of her body over his, the veil of blonde hair falling around his face as she kissed him. Gods, she had been beautiful -- but somehow sad. Why that was, he didn't know, and now he would never know. But maybe if he fell asleep fast enough, he could return to where he left off. He sighed happily and rolled over, only to bump into something soft. "Mmmph," came a muffled protest at his side. Joxer yelped in surprise and scrambled out of bed, all thoughts of happy dreams gone from his mind. His feet got tangled in the sheets, and instead of a graceful exit from the bed, he ended up falling face-first onto the rough wooden floor. Tiny splinters rubbed off against his skin, and only then did he notice he wasn't wearing his tunic. In fact, he wasn't wearing anything at all. He yelled again, and it made him feel a little better. The figure in the bed rolled over slowly and sat up. In the half-light, he could make out the silhouette of female curves. "Joxer," said a tired, emotionless voice. "Stop making so much noise. I'm trying to sleep." He blinked. "Gabby?" "Who were you expecting?" she asked, again in that dead voice, as though neither her question, nor his answer, mattered to her at all. After a couple failed tries to stand up -- his legs somehow refused to hold his weight -- Joxer managed to crawl back onto the bed. Gabrielle watched his attempts with an uninterested stare, devoid even of the annoyance he had grown accustomed to seeing. She wasn't wearing anything either, and when Joxer realized this, he politely looked away with a blush. She made no sign of noticing. "So," he said cautiously, "my dream last night wasn't a dream. It was real. You and I really ... um ... you know." "Yeah. We did." He fell back onto his pillow, dumbfounded, and took a moment to process that. Gabrielle, the love of his life, had allowed him to touch her, to love her. Never did he think this day would come, so of course his overloaded brain had told him he had been dreaming. Yet, it had been real. Still, something hadn't been right. Now that he thought about it, something critical had been missing in their union. He remembered that as he had gazed up at her in adoration, worshipping his goddess, her return look at been without passion, empty of everything except a muted sadness. It was the same look she leveled on him now. He tentatively reached out to her, but she shrunk back, pulling the sheets to her chest. What was wrong with her? Joxer knew he sometimes allowed himself to live in his fantasies, to believe that maybe Gabrielle would love him back if only he told her how he felt. Seeing her like this, with those frigid, lifeless eyes, even that small dream became unattainable. No one in love could look like that. "Why," he asked quietly, trying to keep his heartbreak from showing. "Why did you do it?" She relaxed her death grip on the sheets, and a flicker of guilt crossed her expression. "What do you remember, Joxer? About yesterday?" He thought hard. "I got up, walked for a while, crossed a bridge over a big river of lava -- now that wasn't something you see every day --and ran into you in that village. You said Xena had left on some mission and you were supposed to catch up later, so we started walking again. Then it got dark, and we ended up here. We had some dinner, came up to the room, I offered to sleep on the floor but, um, you --" "I lied," she said, while staring at the sheets. "You what?" "I lied. When I told you about Xena having a mission." She glanced up him and flinched a little at his bewildered look, but she kept her voice level -- almost indifferent. "She didn't have a mission. I don't know where she is, and it's better that way." Joxer struggled with that concept. "What are you talking about? It's better what way? You and Xena, you're best friends." "Not anymore." To that, Joxer had no answer. He could only watch in dumb silence as Gabrielle slipped out of bed and walked in measured, slow paces to the window. She had her back to him, and the faint light of sunrise bathed her in its glow. Her hair seemed to shine in unearthly ways. Joxer caught his breath. How could something so beautiful also be so tragic, all at the same time? She stood like that, naked and unashamed in the rising sun, for only a few seconds before bowing her head. She said calmly, as though discussing the weather, "Do you know what it's like, Joxer, to lose a child? No, of course you don't. You've never carried that life beneath your heart, then held the tiny bundle in your arms and knew you held an angel. Then those big blue eyes open for the first time, and you can see, looking into them, so much hope. So much potential. You know this perfect little creature is yours to love and hold forever. That she'll do great things." As she spoke, Joxer rose from the bed and walked to her. He stood behind her, close but careful not to touch. Gabrielle drew her arms around herself and shivered, even though the morning sun was warm on their skin. "I knew all that," she continued. "I believed in Hope. How could I not? She was conceived in blood and violence, but she was my daughter." She paused, and choked out a dry sob. "I was so wrong. And Solan is dead. Xena's son ... he's dead. And it's my fault." She turned to looked up at him, anguish in her eyes. "My daughter killed an innocent, and I had no choice. I had to ... but I made it quick. Painless. I couldn't bear to watch her suffer. And do you know what I felt? Nothing. I had this terrible cold inside, like my heart was frozen. I thought maybe you could change that, make me warm again ..." Unthinkingly, he reached out to push back some hair that had fallen in her face, and this time she didn't pull back. He said, "So that's why you ... did what you did last night?" She nodded. She seemed so vulnerable just then, too tired and heartbroken to bother masking any of the truth. He wanted to take her in his arms forever. He couldn't understand even a fraction of her pain, but she needed someone, anyone, to hold her and tell her it would be all right. Then she turned her back to him once again, and the moment passed. "I was wrong," she whispered. "The cold is still there." "Have you cried?" A pause, and then, "A little. I cried when we burned their bodies." Joxer shook his head. "That wasn't enough. You might be surprised, but I know a little about losing someone you love. Not a child, but ..." He gently wrapped his fingers around her shoulders and turned her to face him. She didn't bother to resist. "You need to mourn, Gabrielle. Show some emotion. Let those tears fall down." Gabrielle trembled a little. "But she was evil. She was a cold-blooded killer." "And you loved her," Joxer said softly. "Yes, I loved her," she choked out. Her eyes filled with tears, and one escaped down her cheek. "I loved her, and I killed her. My daughter. My Hope ..." She sobbed and buried her face in his shoulder. He eased her into his embrace and held her tight as her whole body shook, as her tears wetted his skin and streamed down his arm. They stayed like that until the sun beamed in full through the window, until his arms ached, but still he held her steady. She needed that. He stroked her hair and whispered, "It's all right. I'm here for you. I'm always here for you." Finally, her shaking subsided and her breathing became more even. She lifted her head and wiped her face on her arm, succeeding in only smearing the wetness. Her eyes were rimmed in red but brighter, not so lifeless. Joxer expected her to pull away, but she surprised him when she wrapped her arms around his back in a fierce hug. "Thank you," she said. "That's what friends are for, right?" Her body shook again, but this time with laughter. "Yeah. You're a good friend. The best." Her arms fell away, and he reluctantly released her. "Joxer, I hate to ask, but I need your help in something. I need to go somewhere ... to the Amazons. I think they might be able to help me. Would you -- I mean, will you go with me? Please? I can't bear to be alone right now." "Gabby, don't you know I'd follow you anywhere?" She smiled sadly and hugged him again. Then they dressed in silence and headed downstairs to pay their bill. By midmorning, they were back on the road. The end |