This is an AU story of Jack & Jennifer from early 1991. Since that was so long ago, I'll provide a brief refresher of what happened before. This story begins immediately after the incident generally known as "the rape-slap" (and easily found on YouTube which I'd highly recommend if you need a refresher of those amazing scenes). Jennifer had been raped by Lawrence, but unable to tell the news to anyone-including Jack. She's been avoiding what is bothering her until one night when Jack is attempting to kiss her, she flashes back to the rape. She slaps Jack and calls him a rapist. Of course, with his history, that label is not easily forgotten or dismissed.

Most important to note, in this alternate universe, Steve is still alive. Steve was injured in the boat explosion and had all those great goodbye scenes, but he was never poisoned through the IV. He recovered and living back at home with Kayla and Stephanie. I love the Jack and Steve dynamic and any Jack story I write will include Steve as well.

Disclaimer: I see a lot of disclaimers on other fanfics disavowing any ownership of the characters, and that applies here too, I guess. However, I'll make this a "swoon disclaimer" instead where I freely acknowledge that nothing that I commit to page will ever match the power and poignancy of a story as portrayed by Matt Ashford, Melissa Reeves, Mary Beth Evans, and Stephen Nichols. Love them! Of course, would love to see all four reunited on screen. I've already posted this story on another website, so I'm just posting the now-completed version. These J&J stories are my first attempts at fanfic so I'd love feedback

Update Jan. 18, 2017: Corrected a bunch of typos and grammatical errors. Not sure if I caught them all, but at least the ones that were most annoying me.

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Jack had been bereft before. Literally and metaphorically, he had been lost at sea, struggling to survive, and anxious to find solid ground beneath. His lineage, his marriage, his political career had all faltered and all proved as stable as quick sand. He thought at last he had found his lighthouse, the fixed point that would guide him to safety as he floated adrift on the sea of troubles.

Jennifer.

But Jennifer was gone now. Lost to him forever. That bright flame extinguished. Jack got mad at himself for the tortured, extended, overwrought metaphor as he crumpled the red rose in his hand. He hadn't specified a location for Sheldon to drive to so they sat in the limousine, a block away from her loft.

It was over. There could be no going back. The slap and the label were as final as the violent act itself that had inspired the slap and label.

He had wanted to take her away for a nice relaxing vacation. He'd convinced himself that she was overworked and needed some time away and they could rekindle their magic. Was it really only three hours ago, the mere length of the movie Dances with Wolves, that his entire world had shifted?

Where to go? He had bought into her rosy outlook and unicorn dreams. He knew the truth that they could never work and he had tried to convince her for months all last spring. He had kidnapped her from her wedding to Emilio not only because he couldn't bear to see her marrying someone else, but also because he did not want to see her in a marriage with someone that she considered second best. He had been in that situation. He had been second-best in his marriage to Kayla. It led to disaster and ruination and he did not want that repeated in Jennifer's life or in Emilio's life. Emilio deserved better too. Jack still couldn't believe he was actually dead—less than a week still. Jennifer was still innocent—still free of mistakes. Three years ago, he had been that innocent, that free, that naive until one awful night when he grew up and grew into a monster.

She had been convincing—she had fooled him and had fooled herself too. Jack knew she had truly believed that he was fixable and that Horton-style love could win out against all odds. But the truth was spoken now and could never be undone. So many things in his life could never be undone.

He knew he couldn't go home. His two dads would be waiting for him there. He couldn't go to the office either. His dads might find him there too.

Steve's. They never go there. His dads would never go there. His dads were scared of Steve. He hoped one day they would be wary of Jack too and would finally stay away for good.

Jack tapped on the limousine partition and called to Sheldon to go to his brother's house.

Jack walked up the long drive way at Steve and Kayla's mansion leaving Sheldon back at the street. He rung the doorbell and nervously tapped his foot. He just needed to see his brother, see himself through his brother's eyes, and he'd start to feel normal again. He would be able to forge a path forward in life from this awful night.

Kayla answered the door though. Jack recoiled, blinking several times. Of course Kayla would be here. Why didn't he think of that contingency? He hadn't been thinking of course.

She looked a little surprised at his reaction, but promised herself to not commit her time to whatever was bothering him. She wanted to spend as little time as possible in Jack's head or wondering about his life. She did a quick check of his appearance. He looked fine—clothes and hair-wise. What was different tonight were his eyes.

"Hi. Do you want to come in?" She stepped to one side of the doorway entrance and gestured him in.

His eyes shadowed over and he shook his head. Coming into their home…just Jack—not as part of group…with Kayla there….at night….NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN. Especially not on this night of all nights.

Jack said nothing, obviously fighting some internal battle, so Kayla continued, decidedly ignoring to address his current state, "Steve's upstairs putting Stephanie to bed. He's in the middle of one of his harp lullabies if you want to go up. It's really endearing."

Jack shook his head, "I-I can't. Could you tell Steve I'm out here on the swing? Please?"

"Sure, I'll go get him," Kayla replied and was glad. She normally didn't mind Jack around Stephanie, but she could tell that tonight was different.

At the upstairs landing, she could hear Steve on his harmonica intermingled with tonight's lyrics I love you little sweetness / Absolutely to completeness. She said another silent blessing that all the obstacles in their past, including Jack and his two dads, and their recent past, which included her murder charge, Stephanie's kidnapping, and the boat explosion. All those sorrows had been put behind them and they were still together as a happy little family. It's all she had ever wanted and was grateful everyday that they could still all be together.

"Jack's outside," Kayla told Steve when he was done with his song.

"Outside? Not downstairs?" Steve wanted to clarify, instantly concerned.

"He wouldn't come in," Kayla replied, letting Stephanie grab her index finger with her tiny fist. "Something brought him here though. Don't know what."

"It's 15 degrees out."

"Go see him. You'll probably have better luck with him than me and I'll probably have better luck than you getting Stephanie to sleep."

"What can I say? You can see it in Lil' Sweetness's eyes how much she loves the blues."

Kayla grabbed a receiving blanket and swatted his butt, "Go on. We Johnson girls are fine up here and you Johnson boys can talk to yourselves about whatever you need."

Jack sat on Steve's and Kayla's porch swing waiting for his brother, rubbing his hands together trying to warm them in the harsh January cold. He recalled all the other conversations he'd had with them in this spot. With Kayla over a year ago, she was pregnant with Stephanie and feeling forlorn about Steve's marriage to Marina. He had tried to convince her that her marriage was worth fighting for. At the time, he did not allow himself to consider any relationship with Jennifer as a possibility. It couldn't happen yet; he knew he had to help secure Steve's and Kayla's future before he could even consider one for himself.

Six months ago, he sat on this swing with Steve and had told his brother that he and Jennifer were now 'close.' Of course Steve knew that was a euphemism that they had finally made love. It wasn't a casual physical sex thing like it had been with Melissa or all the prostitutes Steve heard about after Jack's marriage to Kayla had imploded. Steve knew well that Johnson men could easily have sex with anybody and everybody until love happened and then meaningless sex was just no longer possible. With Jack's ambiguous admission last summer, Steve knew that Jack had found his soul-mate and had made a lifelong commitment—just like Steve had done with Kayla on a certain roof a few years earlier.

"Jack?" Steve rounded around the corner from the front steps.

Jack turned and looked at him but said nothing for at least a two dozen heartbeats.

"Thanks for seeing me." Jack sounded like a patient thanking a doctor for working him into a busy schedule.

"So what's going on?" After an interminable period of Jack's silence, Steve asked, "Is it Jennifer?" Jack stayed stone-faced and didn't move. Steve pressed further, "Is it Kayla?"

With that Jack turned his head and looked at Steve, again he said nothing and turned his head back, facing forward

"I shouldn't have come and interrupted your evening." Jack looked up at the lit window on the second floor that he knew was Stephanie's nursery. "You deserve all this and I'm glad for you."

Jack felt foolish for coming here. He knew he could never repeat the events in the cabin earlier that evening. What was he thinking coming here? He had wanted to feel Steve's love and know that his support wasn't going anywhere. Steve's love wouldn't be snatched back from him tonight like Jennifer's had. Steve's love wouldn't be taken back or rescinded like Kayla's had been all those years ago on the night that he did become a rapist. Steve's love was proof that Jack had changed that he wasn't merely that rapist anymore, right?

However, Jack knew that he couldn't talk about that night. They had both built a wall around that event and they managed as brothers because they never breached that wall. Even when Jack did it obliquely, Steve still shut him down. The last time they sat on this swing together was last summer when Jack and come to tell him that his relationship with Jennifer had escalated. Jack had tried to defend himself, say that he tried to resist because of…before…(so much heartache in that little word!) and Steve shut him down instantly. Jack knew Steve was right to do that, especially in that moment when little Stephanie had been in his arms. No, he would never deliberately put those images back in Steve's head—the bruises, the roof, Kayla's testimony, Kayla defending herself with a poker. All that must stay unspoken.

"Jack, I can't let you leave. You're looking and acting like the night…the night that Harper…died."

"You mean the night that I killed him."

Steve rolled his eyes. Why was Jack being so difficult tonight, he wondered. "The night he died as you were trying to save me…and Kayla."

"I swore I would never get violent again and I did. My promises mean nothing."

Steve's eyes darkened as Jack touched on that nerve once more. "What's going on Jack? This isn't about Harper and I shouldn't have mentioned him."

"I'm sorry I should go. You shouldn't be out here in the cold."

"Let's go to a bar and get a couple of beers and talk."

"I shouldn't have come. I have to go."

"Jack, if you don't start talking, I'm going to call Jennifer."

Jack rounded on him, "Don't you dare!"

Steve loudly exhaled. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," Jack said, sounding resigned and defeated. "I shouldn't have come here tonight. I need to leave."

"Jack, you're my brother and you can count on me. If there's a problem, then we'll fix it—together."

Jack shook his head. "Not about this."

"So what was that all about," Kayla asked when Steve came back into the house. Stephanie was already fast asleep and while Kayla didn't really want to talk about Jack, she wanted to be there for Steve in every way possible.

"I don't know," Steve shrugged. "He wouldn't say, but you were right. Something's gotten to him."

"Something with Jennifer I'm sure," Kayla predicted. "If he's anything like you, only Jennifer could reach him that deeply, that profoundly."

"He wouldn't say anything. It was weird. He acted embarrassed and ashamed."

"Well, it can't be too bad. The old Jack never acted embarrassed or ashamed about anything," Kayla replied trying to block out the memory of the roof top where Jack and Steve had fought after Steve learned of Kayla's rape. Jack had grabbed her and held her, cowardly, as a shield against whatever Steve would do. Simultaneously, he gloated that he, Jack, 'had made love to her and it was wonderful.' Yes definitely no shame then.

She remembered it was about a year later when Jack came to the riverfront clinic after he had been stabbed and needed her medical care. Then, only then, did she see a flicker of shame and the earliest stages of remorse and trying to make amends. By that fall, when Kayla and Steve were embroiled in the Marina mess, he wore his shame and apology like a hair shirt and only then did she start to feel pity and a slight glimmer of hope that Steve might finally get the long-awaited reconciliation with his baby brother.

"How much you want to get involved is up to you, of course." Kayla said. As long as Jack was decent Jack, she would never stand between these two brothers.

"I should go see Jennifer tomorrow," Steve said. "Not ask straight out, but try to get a read on her."

"Okay, but now let's go upstairs. There's a waiting bath with your name on it," Kayla countered.

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Jennifer came to Jack's office wanting to talk. Earlier her grandmother had spoken to her and told Jennifer that she had stopped by Jack's office. Jack had told Alice indirectly about Jennifer's accusation. Alice had gone straight to Jennifer to ask her about her conversation with Jack. Jack was hurting, Alice had said, and Jennifer knew she was the cause and desperately wanted to make it right.

"Why are you here? What more can possibly be said?" Jack asked.

"I think we should talk. I think it will help." Jennifer countered, hoping she could get through the thick shield he had reconstructed around his heart. She had done it before; she hoped to do it again.

"Let me guess, you didn't mean to say it..."

"I didn't," Jennifer interrupted hoping to inject all the feeling and truth into her eyes and voice hoping that he would believer her.

"What you meant to call me was a rap artist. You think I should take a career in rap music, right? Or you meant to compliment me on my rapier wit? Or, I know, papist, like I should be Catholic or something, like the Bradys? Am I right?"

Jennifer shut tight her eyes trying to block out their current reality. The snark was back.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Jack looking down at her left hand, at the diamond ring. It had been given and received with such love and hope.

"You can't wear that anymore. You can't go around letting people like your grandmother believe that there will ever be a wedding."

Jennifer shook her head, what he was suggesting was too final. Stop this, she told herself, just tell him the truth! Don't let this go on!

But Jennifer said nothing.

"Please take it off," Jack insisted.

"I can't. If you want it off, then you have to do it," Jennifer replied, daring him, never believing that he would actually do it.

Jack reaches out to her left hand, ready to take the diamond engagement ring back. As soon as their fingers touch, she snatches back her hand, almost surprised at the electricity that passed from him to her. She holds her hand at her side, balled up into a fist to further protect her ring.

"You cannot take this ring from me. I won't let you. You're all I have. We've been through too much. This ring symbolizes too much. You can't just take it!" She continues on, almost in a whisper, "Don't take my ring. Don't take my ring."

Jack closed his eyes, bit his lip, and backed up a step. He certainly wasn't going to force it off her hand.

"Ring or no ring. I can…not marry you. How do you think it will be? For the vows, will you say 'I, Jennifer, take you, rapist'? And me, 'I, rapist, take you, Jennifer'?" He slowly shakes his head back and forth and his next words come out slowly, "Never…going…to…happen."

"Stop it. You know that's not what I think."

"You said it. You finally said your truth. The truth of why you flinch when I touch you, the reason why you preferred to move in with Frankie and not me, the reason why we haven't been together since October. And if we got married, when the minister says, 'You may now kiss the bride' and I kiss you, will you slap me again then?"

"Jack, I admit…I admit now that I am going through something. Please just be patient with me."

"I asked you, begged you even, a hundred times to tell me what was your problem. And you responded, rather snarky and embittered, that you had told me a hundred times that there was no problem. So what is it?"

Jennifer stayed silent, unable to answer.

"Nothing? So I guess we're back where we started. Your problem is that I am a rapist."

"No that's not true." Jennifer wished she could convince him. She knew that her disastrous mistake of saying the worst word at the worst time was killing him. She was wounding him so deeply. She knew it and she hated herself for it, but yet she still could not speak.

"Everyone else in my life has lied to me about one thing or another. Have withheld the truth from me: Jo, Steve,…Kayla…, Harper, Angelica, Melissa, everybody. I'm so sick of being lied to! I'm sick of it! And I thought you were the one person who would never lie to me. I could always count on you to tell me the truth—when I was being a jerk or that I wasn't as much of a jerk as I feared, or whatever. You tell me whatever is your problem right now or you walk out that door. Those are your two choices."

Jennifer felt cornered. She wanted to tell, but she just couldn't bear speaking of it. Not to anyone—not just Jack because of his past, but also Gram, Carly, Frankie, and Melissa. She didn't want to speak of it to anyone. She knew she needed to. As long as this was a secret just between her and Lawrence then the rape would remain as something tying her together with her rapist and apart from the rest of her family. He had kept her physically apart from her family and from Jack while they were in Alamania and he was still keep her emotionally separated from them. He was still imprisoning her, restricting her movements, not letting her move her life forward, not letting her speak her truth. She knew now that Lawrence had raped her not because she had led him on and not because he was thinking of Carly. He hadn't been angry or confused or swept up in an unfortunate misunderstanding fueled by champagne when he forced himself on her. He raped her for money—for the Von Leuschner inheritance. Lawrence had wanted to prevent her from getting an easy annulment by "consummating" their marriage. That was his motivation. It was cold, diabolical, and calculated. And as horrible as Jack had been with Kayla, she knew that Jack had lost control on one horrible night. There truly was no comparison between what Jack had done to Kayla and what Lawrence had done to her. The act—marital rape-may have been the same, but the motivations and the men were very different.

But Jennifer could say none of this to Jack so for weeks she had sputtered out denials and false excuses and given him thousands of words, equivalent to hundreds of column-inches of newsprint, just to avoid the three-word headline: I was raped.

Jack continued, interrupting her thoughts, "I've already lived through one marriage based on lies and deception and I nearly destroyed her. I will never do that again. I will never do that to you…you that I lo— so much."

Jack walked over the door, opened it, and gestured for her to leave. He then walked back to his desk and put his attention back on his work.

Jennifer picked up a glass that sat over by the water pitcher and threw it at the wall where Harper's portrait had once been. She was angry—not at Jack, but at herself and at Lawrence. That bastard had stolen so much from her and was continuing to steal. He had invaded her body and invaded her mind. She needed to push him out before he stole anything more from her.

Jack looked up from his papers and at the shards of glass on the floor by his office door. He couldn't look at her and didn't comment on the broken glass.

Jennifer decided in that moment that she would get herself together and restore her life. She would go home, call a therapist, and start working through her fears so she could get on with her life—a life that she hoped could still include Jack.

Steve stood outside Jennifer's loft, feeling anxious about butting into Jack's and Jennifer's business, but he was concerned about his brother. The Jack he saw last night was reeling from something awful. Steve knew that Jack always craved his brother's approval and always wanted Steve to think the best of him. Jack wouldn't admit his failings and fears to Steve anymore than he'd publish them in his newspaper.

Steve still found it odd about the curious chain of events that led Jennifer to live here at the loft. He wondered how it was for Jack and for Jack and Jennifer together. Jennifer's couch was almost the same place that Kayla's couch had been. Did Jack sit on Jennifer's couch with her while they were getting romantic? How was he able to battle the ghosts from the past? Jack must have been able to do so, Steve acknowledged to himself. Jack had told Steve about his rooftop proposal to Jennifer—complete with a catered dinner and Shakespeare. Somehow Jack had been able to overwrite the awful memories that had occurred on that roof and in the loft below with better, more loving memories. He still didn't like thinking of Jack that way. Bile unconsciously rose up in his throat thinking of the past. The only way he could really do was by compartmentalizing the two different Jacks—there was Jack and Billy Jack. Steve only wanted to see the Billy Jack that he was now and never wanted to acknowledge the other one.

Steve could hear Jennifer's voice inside. It called him out of his memories. It sounded one-sided like she was on the phone.

"I still can't admit to anyone really, but he did…he did rape me."

"Yes. Jack and I are over."

Steve stumbled backwards towards the elevator. Did he really just hear that? No! That just isn't possible! Thoughts receded at the speed of light. He breathed fast. That couldn't be true. That's not Jack—not anymore! Jennifer loved him and he loved Jennifer. Then Steve remembered that Frankie was the one living with Jennifer. Had Jack gotten jealous of them? Had Jack gotten into a jealous rage again and reacted…like that...again? Oh God, this would destroy everything! Poor Jo! What was Steve thinking—'poor Jo'? Poor Jennifer!

Steve wanted to knock on Jennifer's door and get the truth that instant, but he couldn't do that to her. He knew. Steve knew from firsthand experience, he remembered bitterly, how awful it feels for a rape victim. He would never make Jennifer speak of it with him.

Last night? Is that why Jack came over? Jack had raped Jennifer and then came over to see him?

Steve stopped for a moment to inhale and exhale and try to get hold of his thoughts. Don't go convicting Jack yet, he told himself. Don't assume anything.

Steve backed into the elevator, slammed shut the metal gate, and slammed the button for the ground floor.

Steve came home and found Kayla cooing over Stephanie as she played on her little activity blanket. He watched them for a long moment, just feeling grateful that fate had allowed them their current happiness. He had been through too much to not feel thankful for these times of much-sought simple happiness and tranquility.

Kayla looked up at Steve and knew from his haunted expression that something was deeply troubling him. "You were going to see Jennifer today. Did you talk with her?" Kayla gently probed.

"No, I didn't speak with her." That wasn't a lie. "But I am worried though. I think Jack might have done something—I'm worried (and I really don't want to believe it and I think he's earned the benefit of the doubt), but anyway I'm worried that the old Jack may be back."

Kayla steeled herself. Jack was responsible for a thousands welts of pain that Kayla and Steve had both endured. "What?" she whispered.

Steve shook his head. "I don't want to say. Not until I know more for sure. I need it confirmed."

"So how do you plan to do that?" Kayla was glad that Steve stayed vague. She didn't want to hear specifics until there was a compelling reason to know. Besides, Stephanie was here—one foot away. She didn't want such bad things spoken around her, even if she couldn't understand any of it.

"I'll ask him. I'll make him tell me." Steve replied with decisive finality.

Steve went to Jack's office at about 6:00 when he knew that most reporters would be gone. He knew Jack worked hard and kept long hours. Jack would still be at the office—probably the only one left.

Jack wasn't the playboy type who would shirk on his responsibilities simply because he had the money to do so. Jack was too driven and too hungry to make a difference. Steve had always admired his work ethic. Just because Jack was the boss and set for life with money didn't mean that Jack would fritter away his life on fun or dump all his work on other people.

Steve would start out slow and casual, but he would press until he got to the truth. He would not let him leave or dodge round the questions like Jack had done last night. When Steve went into the Spectator offices, he knew he was right. Jack's light was on and the rest of the place was deserted. Perfect.

"Hi Jack," Steve began after he opened the door. Steve saw Jack's face fall when he saw that it was his brother visiting. Jack had wanted to see Steve last night and tonight he definitely didn't.

Start off casual, but to the point, Steve again told himself. "I got to tell you, Jack. Jo is so excited about planning your wedding. I think she's already picked out her mother-of-the-groom dress."

Jack's eyes narrowed, "Dresses? Really? You did not come here to talk about Jo's dress choices."

"Okay fine. She sent me on a mission to find out the date. So has that been decided?" Steve pressed.

"There won't be a wedding," Jack admitted.

Steve's heart dropped to his feet, but he pressed on. "Jack, no. What happened?"

"The fairytale and fantasy is over and we're back in reality now. I had bought into it. The fairies and rainbows and unicorns and cotton-candy clouds. I really wanted it to be true."

"Jack, that's no answer. What happened and don't give me more of this Tinkerbelle bull. Please, let me help."

"You can't help. It's over. Jennifer and I are over. I'd rather not talk about it."

"I can't do that Jack. I let you leave last night even though I knew something was wrong. So talk straight to me. You love Jennifer and Jennifer loves you."

"Jennifer doesn't love me." Jack said with finality.

That admission surprised Steve. Despite what he had overheard, he was sure that Jennifer loved him. Seeing the path that Jack and Jennifer had taken—from the Spectator, to the quote-unquote kidnapping of her during her wedding to Emilio, to the Loretta, and to Alamania. Through all of it, Steve knew beyond all doubt that Jack loved Jennifer and Jennifer had loved him. It almost made Steve feel nostalgic about the long road and issues that he and Kayla had faced and conquered to be together. He had liked seeing his baby brother on a similar path and meeting and facing those challenges.

"Steve, I don't want to admit this, especially to you of all people, but the truth is: Once a rapist, always a rapist."

Jack's last sentence rang in Steve's ears, replaying over and over and over again. Once a rapist, always a rapist. Once a rapist, always a rapist. Once a rapist, always a rapist.

Steve felt all the blood rush away from his body and he dropped into chair like he'd been shot. The solid foundation of his beliefs was dropping away beneath him.

It is true.

"You did it," Steve said, still not quite believing his words. "It's true." His next words were most damning of all.

"I loved you."

Past tense. Done.