These are some more Jacques and Josée-centered fics that I've posted to tumblr over the past few months. For the Gold are the fics that take place during TDRR, these are the fics that take place before and after TDRR. And since I'm posting in the order I wrote them, we're starting off with a really sad one! Sorry about that.

summary: jacques left and josée doesn't know what to do. (pre-tdrr, pre-olympics)
ages: jacques 21; josée 19
warnings: lots of angst and lots of vagueness
originally written oct 5, 2015

Only With the Heart

When he walked out, her chest started to ache.

It wasn't like the ache she got whenever she was feeling sick, or even the ache she got when her mother explained to her why there wasn't a father figure in her life. It wasn't any ache she'd ever experienced before. She was totally unfamiliar. But it hurt - it hurt so so much, and she didn't know what to do.

The first thought was the same as her first thought always was - find Jacques. He'd know what to do. And even if he didn't, he'd know how to find out, and he'd find out for her. He always tried to help even if he had no idea what he was doing.

But that wasn't an option anymore. He was supposed to be the person that fixed her, not broke her. How…how could he? She couldn't stop replaying the conversation in her head - she felt fixated, almost, like the record inside her brain was broken and forced her to relive it again and again.

"Josée, I'm done!"

"Done? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means! You have never treated me right! And I am not-no, Josée, I cannot do it anymore! Your mother was right, this was never going to work out."

"What? Are you joking? You can't just leave! That's-…that's just stupid! You're being an idiot!"

"No, I am actually being smart for ONCE in my life. Goodbye, Josée."

"Fine, Jacques! Have fun with whatever the hell you're going to do 'cause I don't need you here and I never did!"

It was only ten or fifteen minutes ago. Maybe more, actually - she'd lost track of time. Looking over at the bookcase next to her, she considered the fact that it'd probably been a lot longer than fifteen minutes ago. The case was toppled over on to its side, books strewn everywhere and pages ripped out of them. There were trophies on the floor, a few of them broken (they were cheap kiddy trophies anyway, not like the real gold she wanted), and she vaguely started to noticed that the palms of her hands were throbbing in pain.

She looked down at her hands. There were scratches and a little bit of blood. She looked past them and to the floor - there was a newspaper article about her and Jacques winning a local title with dots of water and blood smeared all over the picture of them.

Well, the source of blood was obvious. Josée wondered why she couldn't remember having this bad of a tantrum. Usually when she got that angry, she'd fall asleep and wake up with Jacques next to her, waiting for her to feel better. This time she just…lost track of herself. Of everything.

She slowly stood up and carefully stepped over the bookcase to make her way to the bathroom sink. There was a book in there - probably thrown through the open door - and she tossed it out before slowly washing her hands. The water stung on all the small cuts she'd given herself, and she was confident that there were a couple splinters piercing her skin as well. She wasn't very good at removing splinters - usually Jacques did that. But she'd manage.

…she would manage. Of course she would. She was a perfectly capable woman who didn't need big strong Jacques to kiss the wounds and make them all better.

Josée looked up to see a very miserable looking girl staring back at her. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks stained with black tears from the mascara running all the way to her jaw. Her hair was a mess and her bottom lip looked like it'd been bitten a million times. There were dark bags under her eyes, too. Whoever she was, she looked pathetic.

She reached up with one hand to wipe some of the mascara off her cheek. It was, at that moment, that Josée became angry again. Yes, she was perfectly aware that the girl looking at her in the mirror was herself. She looked pathetic! Weak! Idiotic! And why? Because Jacques decided to leave? Because he decided he was too good for her? That he hated her? She always knew it was coming, so what was the big deal? She needed to shape up! If he was gone then he was gone and that was the end of it.

The water coming from the faucet finally got to the right temperature and she splashed it onto her face - not caring if it got everywhere. Yelling at herself wasn't getting her anywhere. Destroying the living room of their-…of herapartment wasn't getting her anywhere, either. She needed to find out how long she'd been out of it. Maybe make some food. Her stomach felt empty, but any feeling at all was more welcome than what she'd just gone through.

After cleaning herself up, hands still stinging but she'd have to ignore it for now, Josée stepped back out into the barely-lit living room. She didn't remember it being so dark when she'd left, but the moon was out and the cracked clock on the other side of the room said it was 1:34 in the morning. Didn't Jacques leave around lunch time? She had a vague memory of that. What made them fight, anyway? She couldn't even remember saying anything particularly mean.

She knew she was mean to him often. It wasn't…it wasn't purposeful. And in turn she tried not to react too badly when he was mean back. That made it fair, she felt, and then Jacques could blow off any steam he needed to. Apparently it wasn't enough, though. Apparently.

She moved to the kitchen and found a piece of bread and a block of cheese just sitting out. Jacques must've been making food when it happened. She suddenly couldn't stand the idea of eating.

In fact, just thinking about it was starting to make her nauseous. She ran back to the bathroom and stood over the toilet, hoping to whatever God was out there that this would not actually happen. After two minutes of staring and breathing, she stabilized and her legs wobbled - making her fall to the floor. It hurt. She almost felt like just lying down and falling asleep right there, maybe in the morning she'd feel better.

But she could hear Jacques voice in her head - "Josée, you need to get up! If you don't get proper sleep in a proper bed, you'll get wrinkles on your perfect face!" - and she knew he was right. He was always right when it came to her health. In fact, he was always right when it came to anything about her. Jacques knew her better than anyone. So…he knew that leaving was his only option. He knew what was best for him. Maybe this was best for her, too.

…it didn't feel like it, though. It didn't feel like it at all. In fact, she just kept feeling worse the more and more she thought about it. Josée was used to being angry, she was angry so often, but now it was almost as if the anger had subsided and all she felt was sadness. Jacques was gone. The only person who seemed to tolerate her - maybe even appreciate her - was gone from her life. And he made it pretty clear he didn't plan on coming back. She felt so empty knowing that. Her head was heavy and her shoulders sagged and she felt herself start to sob again. Is that what happened when she destroyed the living room? Was it just going to become an endless spiral of destroying furniture and blacking out?

She needed to sleep. She needed to get to her bed and sleep. Josée pushed herself up and slowly made her way to the hall. Her room on the right, Jacques' on the left. Her brain said right, but her body moved left and she sadly took everything in. Most of Jacques stuff was still there. He'd only packed a small bag before leaving, if she remembered correctly.

Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot…and suddenly she found herself lying on his bed. She squeezed one of the pillows and immediately noticed it smelled like him. Josée started to cry again, hoping she'd wake up in the same place.

xx

It was bright out when she woke up.

She could feel the sun shining on her eyes, probably through the window on the wall of Jacques' room. If that was true, then she was already doing better. She hadn't woken up in a fit of rage and destroyed all of Jacques' belongings. If he ever considered changing his mind, that would have been something to keep him away.

Josée didn't feel like opening her eyes yet. The memory of Jacques departure was still fresh and she didn't know how she was going to face an entire day without him. His scent that she smelled as she fell asleep was even stronger now that she'd spent the night in his room. At the rate she was going, she was going to start crying again.

In a small effort to seize the day or at least make an attempt to not be miserable, Josée slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was a badly-dried ball of blonde hair. She scrunched her eyes and glared at that, looking around it to see muscular arms hiding what she assumed was a sleeping face. She even noticed a faint snoring sound - somehow she hadn't heard it before.

A few more seconds went by before Josée suddenly jolted upright in bed and looked down at Jacques sleeping next to her. He was sitting on the floor with his head and arms on the bed - his hair was a mess and his clothes looked like crap. It must have been raining last night.

She felt herself slowly reach out to touch him. Was he even real? She didn't hallucinate as far as she knew, but…there was a first time for everything. And him being there, being back, was much too good of a thing for it to be happening to her. Josée didn't deserve to have him come back. He knew he'd be happier away from her so he'd be smart and stay away, right?

He groaned a bit and she quickly pulled her hand back, not having actually touched him yet. She felt tears pricking at her eyes while he picked up his head and yawned before looking at her. There was a good ten seconds of complete silence - besides her heart, which was beating so fast and so hard she could swear it was audible to their neighbors - before Jacques finally spoke.

"J-Josée," he said softly. "…I am sorry."

She blinked. "Wha…what?"

He looked down. "I am so sorry. I overreacted and I…went home for a few hours. Just to talk to-to maman et papa and calm myself down. But I could not stop thinking about you and my heart just started to hurt and-and I couldn't wait so I just came back in the middle of the night and-and-" He took a long breath. "-and I saw the living room looking completely destroyed and I…I did not know that my leaving would make you react that way. I…I was so worried before I found you here. I did not…did not know where you might have gone or what you might have done, I just knew it would be my fault and that I am a terrible friend to you and I am so sorry."

He still wasn't looking at her and Josée could no longer tell if her heart was beating too fast or too slow. He came back. He didn't hate her. He felt like she was the victim. He came back. He came back! She didn't think she'd ever felt so happy in her entire life.

"Jacques…" she finally said, making him lift his head to look her straight in the eyes. "You…came back."

He nodded. "I-I did."

Josée bit her bottom lip - it was still sore from yesterday, but it was all she could think to do. "You…you came back because you wanted to."

"…I missed you, Josée. I missed you so much." He adjusted himself to sit up a little straighter.

She started playing with her hands and pretended not to notice that her eyes were watering again. Her voice was almost inaudibly quiet as she said, "…you don't hate me."

Jacques stretched forward to cup her face and wipe away some tears with his thumb. "Josée I could never hate you! I-…I was just frustrated. I did not mean those things."

Her expression didn't falter as he continued to wipe away her tears, and Josée felt her heart stop altogether. Her brain kept repeating the phrase He came back! and it wouldn't stop. She felt so light and so, so warm. She grabbed his hands with her own and moved them away from her face, holding them in her lap.

"I'm…" Josée felt herself smile brightly. "I-I'm glad you saw your mistake in leaving," she said with a bout of confidence she thought she'd never feel again.

Jacques responded with a wide smile and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead repeatedly. "On ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur, eh Josée?"

She put her hands on his chest and shoved him, laughing lightly. "Please tell me you're quoting something!"

He laughed too, moving his face in front of her own. "I thought it was charming!"

Without a second's hesitation, Josée wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled Jacques in for a very, very tight hug. "It is charming. And it's true. I…I'm sorry, too, Jacques."

His eyes were wide for a moment before Jacques wrapped his arms around her waist and tightened the hug even more, shoving his face into her shoulder and loving the feeling of being back in her arms.

Josée sighed into his neck. She just went on the most intense emotional roller coaster of her life in less than a day, but with Jacques back at her side, she was sure she'd be alright.