*Jax Evergray writing
Nobody had warned Jax that having people you cared about made everything trickier.
Fighting in clubs and rings was easy. Your body took the hits, felt the consequences of missed attacks, and the only thing to worry about was keeping your eyes open long enough to see them hit the floor.
But never did she get angry during those matches. Her soft nature remained and her pride kicked in. Winning bouts of strength felt natural to her, felt like she was supposed to win. She could throw others across a room without even flexing, lift up extremely large and heavy objects. She could remain completely calm, even-breathed, in charge. And she could do it easily.
This rage? This swelling of guilt and ferocity and this ache of wanting… no, needing… more. It came out of nowhere, filled her up to the brim and spilled out over her edges. This rage was new. At least, new to Jax post-amnesia. Perhaps she had always been this ball of negative force plowing through life and destroying everything she came into contact with. Would she remain that? Now, with the person she was growing into, would she stay that horrible mess?
It’s not that those negative feelings didn’t have a home within her. She felt guilt at losing Mari, at the thought of someone stealing her away from right under her nose. She felt guilt at leaving Killian, even though she couldn’t recall it. It wasn’t within her rights to say what he had experienced was a false narrative, especially since the more she learns about herself, the happier she is that she doesn’t remember that woman, that mean vile person.
She felt a ferocity to protect the remaining peoples in this little group that had welcomed her with open arms, no questions asked, allowing space for her and Killian to grow past these hiccups and into a friendship, allowing space for her and ChaCha to learn how to be more human and more in touch with their feelings, allowing space to appreciate the arts with Mari and to be in awe of the way Nirah slowly and surely tackles obstacles, allowing space for her and Mistral to share a love of drawing and all of their awkward conversations.
She felt an ache… because she is so sure it’s fleeting. She is so sure that one day they will wake up and decide that Jax just doesn’t fit quite like the rest of them fit. And she couldn’t fight that. Not when it is so apparent to her as well.
So she got mad. Flew into a rage and fought tooth and bone to get Mari back to this misfit family that she has so quickly fallen in love with. Fought with every ounce of her strength to prove that she is worth keeping around…
Jax shook her head and glanced up from the empty page of her journal over to Mari and Nirah curled up on the bed. For the first time tonight, Mari’s face was relaxed and calm. So close to the serene expression she has while playing a set. So close to the bard who was sure of every foot she put in front of her. Jax took a deep breath and wrote out a little prayer to Sashelas: that Mari would not lose that confidence and assuredness. That the group would be able to get past this and be stronger for it.
She looked over to Mistral, lying underneath the window. As soon as she had seen Mistral across the bar a few days ago, she had developed a crush that, in different circumstances, would have been handled already. But then she met her. And Killian. And now, Jax is wrapping up all of those feelings and shoving them down into a box to deal with later. No crush. No favorites. Mistral and her will be best friends. And then, maybe, she’ll unpack those boxes.
Jax stood up quietly and exited the bedroom. No distractions, not tonight.
She props open Killian’s door and finds the small human man sleeping peacefully. If they had no history and had just met, Jax knows for certain that Killian would have been her most trusted friend, that their personalities mesh well in a brother-sister dynamic. But now they have so much to work through and Jax doesn’t know where to begin because she just can’t. fucking. remember. anything.
ChaCha stirred next to her. Asked if Jax needed conversation.
It took everything in her to say no, to brush it off like she just needed to journal. ChaCha was, in all accounts, her closest friend in this group by nature of the robot inviting her into conversation first. Showing her comradery first. And now the two sat in silence, Jax swallowing all of her worries and unease and rage. No negative feelings, no liabilities. She writes in her journal. Fills pages and pages. Then stops. The sun begins to peek through the curtains of the window at the end of the hall.
Jax breathes. Hears Nirah stirring. Looks down at her notebook and holds back tears. Writes one more sentence before closing and tucking her journal away, ready to face the new day.
No feelings, no liabilities, you have a family to protect.