open_flame | Misdirected Aggression - Fic for rp

I slump down in my desk chair. I hate lying to Dana. I hate lying to anyone. I hate this whole break up bullshit. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells and I like I have to act a specific way. I don’t even know how I want to act, but I know it’s not like this.

I leaf through the Maya Herrera file I took from Dr. Suresh’s Lab and pick up my phone to dial the number I’ll never forget.

“Yeah, John Myers, please.” I wonder who that woman is answering the phone. Probably someone Jack hired. What was wrong with Sherry, she was sweet. She used to bring donuts. Red jelly. I love red jelly donuts.

“This is Myers.” He picks up briskly and confidently. It’s a surprise. He doesn’t sound like himself at all.

“John?” I laugh a bit. “What’s up with Mr. Confidence?”

“Oh, hey Liz.” He relaxes and sounds more like the Myers I know. “Oh, we’re just kind of in a mess here and we can’t get a hold of Jack. Where the heck is he, anyway?”

“Um…” My voice catches. I should have expected this question. “I..” I don’t know? That’ll just lead to more questions. “He’s…away.”

Not technically a lie. Jack was pretty much living at my place since the day we first went to Jersey. The day he made me dinner. God, that was a good day. Best day of my life, I’d wager. What the hell happened to make everything go to hell? I still couldn’t put my finger on it. It had to be more than something as simple as wanting to hug him that started this whole mess, right?

If it wasn’t, what the hell did I do wrong?

“Yeah, I donno. Try his cell?” I say as smoothly as I can manage.

“We did, he’s not answering. We haven’t been able to reach him since Friday.” John pleads. He thinks I’ll know where Jack is. Why would he think any different? “It’s not a huge deal, it just might cost a bit of money and we need and answer soon…”

“Just do it then.” I snap into the phone. Jack has more than enough damn money for whatever they need. “Trust me. Just do it and Jack will… have to be fine with it.”

“Okay, sure. You know him better than we do right, Liz?” I doubt it John, I really do.

“Yeah. He tells me everything.” I try not to sound sarcastic. “Listen John, I did call you remember?” I sigh a bit. God, I wish I could tell him what’s happening. But, again, that desire to not make waves and ask people to take sides prevents me. Who would they pick, really, the guy who signs the paychecks, or me?

They didn’t take my side when things were funny with Red, either. Why would this be any different? Jack’s the boss, the owner of BPRD. Anyone there would be stupid to pick the girl who walked out 13 times over the guy who signs the paychecks.

“Sure, Liz. What’s up?” he seems happy to be given something else to do.

“Look up anything you’ve got on a Maya Herrera for me. Last known residence is Montville.” I sigh into the phone and grab a pen, tapping it on my desk, hoping he’s got something on her.

“So…how are things, Liz?” I can here John typing in the background as he speaks. I really have no idea how to answer the question.

“Great. I’m busy. Working on something big.” Not a lie. Not really. I wonder if Maya can tell me anything more about Suresh’s research. Was I barking up the wrong tree even asking him for help? Was he even going to help me at all?

“Big? What’s the definition of big at…what do they call that place, again?” He says as if half interested. “The Association?”

“The Company” I correct him with a sigh. “Just….the Company, and big means top-secret. Sorry.” I’m not telling him what I’m doing. He’ll try and talk me out of it, or give me some shit about “you just need to try harder” like Red and Jack and even Dr. Suresh.

I’ve been trying for 20 years. I’m…sick of trying. It doesn’t work! I’ve tried the noble strong and ‘hard’ way. It didn’t do a damn thing. I spent a year in robes meditating and eating rice. I spent 6 months on a steady supply of pharmaceuticals and head shrinks. I’ve killed nearly everyone who was foolish enough to love me. At least the last guy…it didn’t stick. And the one before is fireproof. I wish my family was that lucky, or those people at Bellamie.

“Nothing.” The voice in the phone rocks me back into reality.

“What, nothing at all?” I frown and rub my forehead. “You sure?” Damn it! Where the hell else will I look? I’ve torn the Company files apart and check the police and courts record, and nothing. Now what?

“We’re not FBI anymore, Liz. I don’t have access to…” He begins.

“Well, access the fucking TORCHWOOD files or something then, John!” I snap into the phone before I realize it.

“Um…We don’t have that kind of access, Liz. That’s not the way Jack set it up.” He says softly, like a child who’s just been screamed at. “Why don’t you just ask him if you need to see Torchwood stuff?”

Damn it!

“I don’t know if it’s even anything Torchwood would have known about.” I say before I even have a chance to realize what I’m saying. “I mean…it has nothing to do with Jack so I don’t want to bother him with it while he’s….” What did I tell John that Jack was doing?

“Away?” He says as if suspicious of me.

“Yes. Away. I’m not…stapled to his side, John.” My stomach lurches a bit as I say the same thing Jack said to me days ago. I recover as best I can and explain the situation with something really close to the truth, oddly. “Jack’s ex worked for Torchwood, and that’s just weird…and Jack and I don’t need anymore…weird.”

“Liz, are you OK?” He’s the second person in less than an hour to ask me that. Is it that apparent? I need to get my shit together and act like I’m fine. I’m not, but…I refuse to be like that.

I apparently, ruined Jack’s life here just by existing. I’m not going to be like that, I’m not going to turn anyone against him. People like him better than they like me anyway. If seems that way, anyway.

“I’m fine.” I say quietly after a minute. “Just…think I have the flu or allergies or something.”

“You should get a shot.” John echoes Dana’s words again as I laugh.

“You know John, I am on my way to do that right now, actually.” I lie without blinking. “So, I gotta let you go, Ok?”

“Sure, Liz.” He sounds concerned, but I don’t give him the chance to ask anything more.

“Bye, John. Thanks for trying.” I hang up a second later.

I need a cigarette. NOW! I really hate the roof lately, but where the hell else will I go?