Chapter Twelve (Momentoes)

It started small. Missy had gone for a run out on the beach, early morning of course when the sun was a bare glimmer at the horizon. It was chilly so she had slipped on Jax's hoodie over her shirt and yoga pants, reveling in the soft feel of it as she tied her shoes. It was a strange feeling maybe, but every time she wore it she had that moment where it was like his arms were around her and it warmed her to her toes. The run was good, very few people were out this early except people like her who wanted that silence and stillness and after it was done she cooled down with the walk to the coffee shop. The barista recognized her immediately, a nod as she got out the cups for Missy's usual order - a pair of pumpkin spice lattes, one with Ms Miss scrawled on the side and the other Boss with the heart in place of the o. It always made Missy smirk, she couldn't help it and she slipped a couple bills into the tip cup as the Barista got her change. "Whoops!" She dropped a few of the coins, and the jingle on the counter caught her ear. It sounded off, and so she gathered up the coins to look at before depositing them in the cup. One of the quarters was lighter in color, the year on it 1964 and she remembered something her dad had told her - any quarter or dime made in 1964 or before was silver. She kept that one and left the rest before picking up her order with a soft 'thanks' and heading out with it.

The quarter stayed in the pocket of the hoodie most of the day (even after that surprise moment Jax had stripped it off her) and when she went to put it in the hamper later on she remembered and looked for it. Flipping it in her hand she thought about one of her uncles, not the one she hated remembering but one of her mother's brothers who was a machinist and who had shown her a 'neat trick' you could do with one if you had the time and patience. That thought stuck with her the next day when she was out doing business errands for the gym, and she took a little detour to Home Depot, picking up an awl, a tack hammer, and a little metal rod. Why not? If she messed it up it wasn't like anyone would make fun of her for it and now the idea had stuck she felt she had to try. So for the next week or so, during the downtime between classes and moments she set aside just for Jax - just in case... she started working on it. Simple, repetitive motions as she made the hole in the center and flattened the coin around the rod. It took a while to get the right thickness, she was worried she'd work the metal until it was too thin or would be uneven but her care was keeping it in roughly the right shape. She had to guess at the size once it got to that point, using pliers to hold it as she used the blunt end of the awl to shape the inside smooth but she was pretty sure she was at least ...close.

More than once she paused to shiver, thinking about Jax's hands - that was a fact. Polishing it up, making sure there were no burrs or jagged spots took longer than she wanted but finally she had it done and had a moment of surprising pride at looking at her work. Now that it was done though, she had all sorts of hesitations. Would he like it? If he did, would he read more into it than just something she wanted to make for him? Did she mean more with it than just a gift? That in mind she bought a length of leather cord the next time she was out and strung the ring on that, so he wouldn't feel...obligated...to wear it if he didn't want to. Finally, with the strangest sort of butterfly feeling in her belly she'd Tweeted to him - Hey @bjaxsun come here I got something for you.

It hit her right after she sent it that it sounded an awful lot like 'hey come fuck me', but it was too late now. She just hoped he'd like it, understand the effort she put in - because it was something for him.



The bottle of Glenlivet was empty but he was still holding it as though it was meant to provide some sort of anchor to keep him from floating away.

The message indicator on his cell phone had been lit all day, the missed call mocking him because he'd watched the phone ringing, watched her picture pop up on the screen but he hadn't been able to bring himself to reach out and slide his finger across the screen.

And now, he was sitting behind the wheel of his car in the driveway of the house he couldn't bring himself to list even though he had a damned realtor salivating about the sort of PR spin it belonging to a celebrity like him could mean. Heaving a sigh, he lifted the phone from the dash and dragged his thumb down, double-tapping the notification.

Please enter your password.

And then Alexandra Kelly's voice filled the silence, a sort of wariness lurking under the chipper as she asked the normal questions, checking in on him like she'd been doing since before their match. He stabbed the button that skipped the message and then chose the option for sending a reply – do not pass GO, do not worry about her answering. Just a magical little message showing up in her box unexpectedly and maybe she'd wonder if it had been there all day and she just hadn't noticed she'd missed his call.

"Alex," his voice came out rough, hoarser than expected, as though he'd spent the day yelling instead of in silence. He cleared his throat and tried again, watching the seconds tick by on his Ironman because the maximum was five minutes. "Hey. Sorry I missed your party or whatever it was that you invited me to. I know you don't really understand what's going on with me right now and I'm not sure I can really put this into English plain enough – not to say that I think you're stupid. Far from it. It's just that you still don't really know me or the worst demons that live inside my head. October's always been one of the rougher months for me... ever since I spent a week in a solitary confinement cell on Alcatraz for a dumpster fire of a company – word of advice: if you ever end up having a shrink tell you that you probably have PTSD, don't make it worse by jumping into something fucking stupid like that for a belt. Yeah. A belt. In a stupid company that locked its talent..." he shuddered, his voice breaking as his hand curved into a fist. "I do stupid things when there's gold on the line, Alex. That's why I'm here right now. That's why I'm not already in Baltimore, despite telling you that I was going to be there. I fly out in the morning, arriving a few hours before I'm supposed to fight. I'll slip into the locker room and if my luck holds, I won't see you. Since you asked, yeah. I am avoiding you but it's not because you've made me angry or because I secretly hate you. It's... you come see me tomorrow if you really think that, okay? You look in my eyes and I'll tell you. I don't hate you. That's the trouble here, kiddo. That's the real sticker. I don't hate you at all, and that's why it's very, very dangerous for you to be near me right now."

His fingers of his left hand were hooked under the leather cord, sliding back and forth so that the smooth silver ring was bumping against them.

"I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I care, Alex. God help me, but I care and maybe you think I'm not paying attention when CJ stomps all over your heart, maybe you think I don't notice when you act like you're part of the group even though I can tell you're just going through the motions to keep them from asking you what's wrong. Depression is a strange animal, but it's one that I've slain many, many times over the years. I can feel it breathing down my neck and I know this one is big and deadly and mean. I need to get out ahead of it and I can't keep hurting the people I love. After Ultimate Carnage, we'll revisit this. Okay? Listen, I gotta go. Happy Halloween."