Wedding Bells Part 2: The Reception

[Emily Shale-Vanders]

The song came to an end and Emily gave Auri a hug before speaking. "Thank you for the dance, Auri." She took the girl by the hand and led her back to her mother.

A commotion had started - not a fight, but a fleeing of the Dominion in their midst. Jay was making his way out of the hall, clearly upset at something. It wasn't much more than some pushing of shoulders, but it was enough to draw the attention of those in the hall. Emily's eyes went to Jared, who had stared at his friend's exodus with a look of growing concern on his face. Jared hadn't expected this. A moment passed before everyone seemed to go back to normal as things usually happen in this situation. There was always some sort of drama and it would be recognized and filed away by most, but Jared kept staring.

Emily worked her way towards him, noting Rachel and Kiriena were nearby. Jared's eyes hadn't moved from the door which Jay had exited from. Emily had met Jay today, and even though she had neglected to say anything when they had, Jared had spoken of his friend and brother in-ams. He had always spoken very highly of Jay. That was enough for Emily.

"Is he okay?" Emily asked, knowing the answer.

Jared shook his head as if coming out of a daze. "No, he is not."

Jared turned to face her, and she could see the hurt in his eyes. Not hurt at Jay's departure, but hurt at his brother's pain. She saw his concern and knew she felt it too. Emily moved closer and wrapped her husband in a hug, pulling him tight. He reciprocated, clinging with a desperate need. Emily knew what Jared wanted to do, and knew that internally he was struggling with what should have been an easy decision. She knew what she had to do. She could not be selfish.

"Go to him," she whispered into his ear.

A moment passed. "You sure?"

She kissed his cheek. "Leave no man behind," she whispered back. Emily had married a soldier, and tonight her soldier had been called to fight. To fight for his brother.

Jared loosened his hold to look at her before giving her a kiss. "Thank you," was all he said. It was all he needed to say. He looked at her, took her hands, kissed her once again before turning to follow Jay out. As Jared had before, her eyes stayed on him until he exited.

[Jared Vanders]

Something was wrong. The look in Jay's eyes before he left lingered in Jared's mind. There were ghosts behind those eyes. Jay wasn't just hurting. Jay was in a crisis situation. They had both seen some shit in Sierra Leone, and Jay was a Dominion now. He had probably seen more shit since then, and he wasn't coping well. That was clear enough. Jared watched as Jay left, his eyes the only thing moving as Jay opened the door and walked out.

Everything in Jared longed to follow, longed to do something, but he remained frozen, glued to the spot on the floor. His eyes stared at the spot, unsure of how to proceed. He was no therapist. What could he say to help. Probably nothing. But he couldn't just stay. He couldn't do nothing while Jay was like this. But he had to stay here. This was his wedding.

Emily came to him and spoke softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. Jared could see the concern in her eyes as well. Emily had a good heart. Jared had known many brides that would have been upset at Jay's departure, but her eyes only showed compassion. She wrapped him in a hug and he held her tightly, finding comfort in her embrace.

"Go to him," Emily spoke the words Jared needed to hear, but still his feet felt glued to the ground. When he asked for clarification she only told him. "Leave no man behind."

The words hit home as his soldier's instincts kicked in. The reason he had felt compelled to follow Jay as he left. Emily had known what Jay had meant to him, and she had read his departure as one of crisis or, more than likely, had just trusted Jared's instincts on this. He thanked her with a kiss and headed in the direction Jay had left if more carefully than his colleague.

Jay hadn't left the grounds, and Jared found him fairly quickly, sitting next to a wall, and Jared, in his wedding tuxedo, sat down right next to him. For a time there was silence. Jared didn't want to push. He felt pushing wouldn't help. Instead he was present. He was also unsure of what to say.

Eventually Jared would break the silence, opting for the truth. "I'm unsure of what to say, but if you want to talk, cry, vent, or just sit in silence, I'm here. Whatever you need." Jared left it at that, unsure if there was more he could do.

[Kiriena]

Kiriena did her shot with Rachel, but then things changed fast. Whatever was wrong with Jay came to a head, and he left. Kiriena had sensed it from him, and hoping Jared could help, had turned Jay over to him with no reservations. But it hadn't helped. Kiriena looked to Jared, and saw the hurt and concern in his eyes.

A white figure moved through the crowd. Emily had noticed and went to her husband. They spoke quietly and Kiriena turned aside to make sure she wasn't eavesdropping. A few moments later Jared followed Jay outside. Rachel moved next to her, going to her sister. They spoke in hushed tones before Rachel came back and gave Kiriena a hug. "I'm going to have a dance with Em. Catch you after that?"

Kiriena smiled but shook her head. "I think it's about time for me to head out. Busy day tomorrow."

Rachel, who had not let go of the hug, hugged her tighter. "Of course. I understand. So good to see you! Make sure you say goodbye to Emily too!"

The pair bid their goodbyes and Rachel moved backed towards the head table with some purpose. Kiriena turned to the bride who was still nearby. "Hey, Emilly. I think it's time for me to head out. Congratulations to you and Jared. I had a great time.

Emily smiled broadly and gave Kiriena a hug. "Thank you so much for being here on my special day, Kiri. I'm glad you had a good time."

Kiriena returned the hug and headed out, taking a different exit than Jay. She wanted to know how Jay was doing, but felt bad about possibly interrupting a discussion between him and Jared. She hoped he would be okay.

[Rachel Shale]

Rachel watched as the Dominion left.  He was clearly upset.  Rachel stared at her drink for a moment, feeling guilty.  She didn't know what was wrong, but it was clearly something bad, and here she was upset to the point of deciding to get drunk because her boyfriend couldn't spend the night with her.  The look on her brother-in-law's face told all.  Rachel's disappointment was justified, but her reaction to it was petty, and she knew better.

Rachel watched as Emily came to Jared and they spoke. Rachel couldn't hear the words, but knew the pair well enough to guess.  Jared wanted to help his friend and couldn't do it unless Em gave him the go to leave the reception for a bit to do so which apparently happened because after a kiss, Jared moved to follow his friend.  Rachel stepped out of his way, and went to her sister.

"It's bad isn't it," Rachel said quietly.

"I don't know - but Jared thinks so," Emily's eyes stayed fixed on the door, and when they turned to Rachel, Emily smiled. "He has his mission, and I have mine.  I need your help.  Time for that dance."

Rachel nodded.  She understood.  The show must go on as it were. "I get it.  I have something to do first - meet you on the dance floor.

Rachel went to Kiriena, and when the other woman decided to head out, she bid her farewell. Rachel then moved to her spot at the head table and grabbed her purse, finding her wallet inside.  As a therapy grad student, Rachel had spent a lot of time with professional therapists, asking questions and trying to learn as much as she could.  She had several digital business cards in her wallet.  She didn't know much of the Dominion, but she had guessed that he was one of Jared's combat buddies. She picked a card for a therapist that did work with grief counseling and PTSD.  It was a guess, but Rachel felt it was a good one.

Jared, I hope your friend ends up being okay.  If he is amenable to it, I've attached a business card for one of my therapy contacts.  Sending you and your friend all the love.

Rachel put her wallet back and found Emily right as another slow song began.  The two sisters began to dance and sway. "How are you feeling?" Emily asked.

Rachel cringed a little. "Disappointed and a little guilty. I was gonna drown myself in booze because of Cruz leaving, but with Jared's friend...it just seems...petty. I'm cutting myself off for the night."

Emily gave Rachel a smile. "That's a mature response." The smile was supposed to be reassuring, but Rachel didn't feel so much better.  She had really been looking forward to spending time with Cruz, but she figured even with other things going on, she had the right to be disappointed in the circumstances. "What was it you did - before you came to dance.?

"Sent Jared the card of one of my therapist contacts.  Just in case."

Emily pulled Rachel closer and their dance became a swaying hug. "That was very kind of you.  I'm sure Jared will appreciate that."

Their hug remained. "I can't believe you're married, Em!" Rachel said moments later.

Emily Laughed and pulled away a bit so she could look at her sister. "I can't believe it either."

Rachel smiled. "Love you sis.  I'm so happy for you!"

"I love you too.  And I'm very proud of you." Rachel wrapped her sister in a hug again.  Those words meant so much to her at that moment.

[Jay Carpenter]

If it was cold, he didn’t feel it.

If there was wind, he didn’t notice.

If there were people, he didn’t see them.

He just stared, unblinking, as memories exploded across his mind like flashbangs tearing through a pitch-black room. Cayli’s laughter, light and sharp, when Natalie taught her to channel. The iron grip of his mother’s arms when he first came home, her sobs muffled in his uniform. Zacarías’s mocking voice, slithering through his mind. The shock of the knife driving into his gut—the wet, hot sting that followed. The smell of grease and burnt coffee from that diner off the Texas interstate. The bite of car battery clamps on his skin, electric fire crawling through his nerves. The way the wallpaper had peeled and curled in that crumbling hotel room, melting in the heat of his hallucinations. Barbed wire raking his arms as he scrambled across the border. 

His parents’ lifeless bodies. 
Cayli’s lifeless body. 
Axel’s lifeless body. 
The piles of bodies.

One memory bled into the next, a grotesque carousel spinning faster and faster until they all blurred together, yet each moment stabbed him anew. He could feel the barbs, smell the coffee, taste the metallic tang of his own blood. Just when his lungs finally forced him to gasp for air, the reel looped again. 

Cayli—Mom—Zacarías—knife—diner—clamps—wallpaper—fence—bodies on bodies on bodies. 

He barely registered Jared’s presence at first. The voice, low and strained, was little more than a whisper under the deafening roar of his memories. Like the muffled dialogue of a war film, distant and irrelevant. But as Jared’s voice continued, cutting through the haze, a fresh wave of guilt sank its claws into Jay’s chest. 

This was Jared’s wedding. His friend should be inside, holding his bride, laughing with family—not sitting in the dirt, trying to talk down a broken shell of a man. 

And yet, Jared was here. 

The thought twisted something inside Jay, a sick and bitter knot of shame and fury. Jared’s kindness only made him feel worse, like gasoline on a fire. For some reason, his mind latched onto the memory of Nox. Maybe it was because Nox understood this kind of pain, this waking nightmare. Nox had walked through hell and come out the other side, scarred but alive. Jay had always thought that shared darkness made them friends. 

But it wasn’t true. 

He’d been rejected, forgotten, thrown away—like some unspoken rule had been broken. Survive the war, sure. But survive and try to live? To be happy, even for a moment? That wasn’t allowed. 

He should have known better than that. 

The guilt curdled into anger, and the anger churned with the grief, forming a storm so wild and vast he thought it might split him apart. His body trembled, his chest heaving with sobs he couldn’t suppress, his fingers clawing at the dirt beneath him as if he could ground himself, as if that might stop the movie playing in his head. 

But it didn’t stop. 

It just kept replaying, frame by frame, every broken, bleeding moment.

[Jared Vanders]

Jared stayed silent. It seemed that’s what Jay wanted or needed at that time. Jared had no idea what was going on, but he could see it in the way Jay stared. It was a cold stare. Jared was sure Jay couldn’t see the world around him, he was instead seeing whatever it was in his past that was bothering him. Then his chest began heaving sobs that he could no longer hold back.

Jared remained silent, but briefly placed a hand on Jay’s shoulder - a reminder he didn’t have to fight alone. He didn’t keep it there, unsure of if Jay would handle it well. A beep came from Jared’s wallet. Al his notifications were set to silent - except those of the Shale girls. If they were sending him something now, it was important enough to see, a quick glance showed a message from Rachel - including a card for one of her therapist contacts. No - Jay didn’t have to fight alone. They knew Jay was his brother, and so the Shale’s would see him as one of theirs too.

Jared forwarded the contact to Jay with a message of his own.

Hey - you don’t want to talk right now, and that’s fine. Just want to let you know that I’m here for you always. You’re my brother. Never forget that. The contact is from my sister - she’s training to be a therapist and has several contacts. It might be good for you.

Again - let me know if I can help. Anytime.

As the message sent, Jared’s attention went to the street. A cab pulled up and the graceful form of Natalie Northbook-Grey exited. Jared hadn’t expected her, and Emily, who had begun to foster a friendship with her after the events in the underground city, had mentioned if she would be coming or not.

Jared finally broke his silence. ”Natalie’s here.”

[Natalie Grey]

[[continued from here]]

It wasn’t far. She was still fixing her earrings when the cab pulled in. Natalie didn’t bother to check the time – after a certain point of lateness she wasn’t sure it even mattered anymore. But light was still spilling softly from the venue's windows, and the music inside thrummed distantly with cheesy wedding whimsy. She paid the driver, waved away assistance and got her own door. Inside her mind was teeming; sometimes she had to pause to remind herself to focus on one thing at a time. Much like the piano she rarely indulged anymore, these quieter moments tested her in a way she wasn’t keen to examine.

She didn't make it so far as the entrance before she found them in the dirt of a winter border, tucked against an external wall like literal fallen soldiers. It was nothing she could have expected, yet there wasn’t much to read in Natalie’s expression or the stillness of her posture as she absorbed the scene. She glanced at Jared, though he was already rising to his feet by then – politeness that might have amused her in any other situation. Instead her inscrutable gaze met his, but she didn’t say anything; didn’t want to have a conversation over Jay’s head, even if he wasn’t aware enough to hear it. Jared was a healer; she knew witnessing this would be wounding. But she didn’t pause to see if he would stay or go.

“Hey,” she finally said, voice soft as she crouched before Jay. She didn’t acknowledge the wrench of his sobs or the way it cleaved her heart, though neither did she look away from the devastation. She’d seen the cracks in Jay before, but where she’d given him room then – aware of the unpredictable churn of his power as the motel’s wallpaper curled and fell like molten rain around them – she didn’t keep any kind of distance now, uncaring of whether he grappled with the fury of his own power or not. Instead she parted his knees enough for her to kneel inside the cage of his legs. The ground was a lot colder than she expected, though it was the only thought she gave to it.

“It’s me,” she told him quietly. “It’s me.” Words that once reached her in an impossible place. She wasn’t sure if he would hear them now, or remember they were his own, but it didn’t matter either way. She leaned for her hand to soothe over his where it clawed at the dirt of the flowerbed. She’d never made Jay any promises, not in words, but when she’d taken his palm outside the decimated Texan school it had etched a devotion into her soul. Or renewed what already existed in her, maybe.

Her fingers laced through his, the act so painfully familiar it made her chest ache. She lifted his hand, pressed it over her heart and sheltered it there with her own. She wasn’t entirely certain her pulse was as steady as she’d like, but her breathing was. Like waves against the shore, the rise and fall was an indomitable vow. One of surety to beckon his focus from that distant darkness. She couldn’t vanquish the demons Jay nursed so closely; no more than he could do the same for her. But he didn’t have to come back to reality. He just had to come back to her. And she’d wait as long as it took.

[Jared Vanders]

Natalie moved fast as Jared stood - habit for him more than anything - and he met her gaze. Words weren’t needed. It was clear to Jared that Natalie knew what was going on in how she acted. She went straight to Jay, and began to speak softly to him. But Jared knew, she was calling for him to come back, and knew if he heard anyone’s call it would be Natalie’s.

Jared was a healer - he was decent enough at it anyway, but whatever Jay had dealt with - it was beyond his skill. Jared didn’t speak a word, and he didn’t stay. This wasn’t for him. He could do nothing anymore except get in the way. It didn’t hurt him - he felt no grudge or ill feelings towards this. In this case Natalie was a master surgeon, and he the simple hospital orderly. Jared would thank her later. Because she was an angel who had come just in time to save his brother.

He stepped inside, and leaned his head against a wall of the atrium. He wasn’t ready to go in the hall yet. Jared needed to calm down before he faced all those people again. In reality there was only one person in that hall he wanted to see right now.

((OoC: Just wanted to extricate Jared there - you two do what you need to do - I’ll be on stand-by until then))

[Jay Carpenter]

It wasn’t that he didn’t know where he was. He could feel the frozen dirt beneath him, rough and unyielding, soaking the heat from his body like a parasite. He was vaguely aware of Natalie’s cautious steps behind him, the crunch of frost under her heels, the muffled thrum of music from the party behind them. He knew all of that. And yet, none of it felt real.

What was real was the trembling that had overtaken his body. His shoulders shuddered, his arms locked stiffly around his middle, as though holding himself together might stop him from flying apart. Hot tears streaked his face, but he couldn’t lift a hand to wipe them away. His chest heaved with jagged, broken sobs that came too fast, leaving him gasping for air. It was like drowning on dry land—his lungs squeezing, his throat closing, his body shaking harder with every desperate gulp of air that didn’t seem to reach him.

Natalie was beside him now, kneeling close, her shadow folding over him. He flinched when her hands reached for his, but she didn’t stop. She peeled his fingers away from where they had clutched his head, his nails digging into his scalp like he could claw the images out. Her touch was warm, steady, but his hands twitched uncontrollably in hers, trembling like a leaf caught in a gale. He wanted to stop. Wanted to meet her eyes, to let her ground him. God, he wanted to tell her he was fine, brush this all off, smile and laugh and make her believe it.

But all he could do was cry.

He thought, absurdly, about lying face-first in the dirt, arms tucked beneath him, drinking it into his lungs until it silenced everything. A pathetic impulse, but no more pathetic than sitting there, broken in front of her, like a goddamn wreckage of a man.

Then it hit, sharp and sudden: the air rushing from his lungs like a wave crashing against a shore. His chest spasmed, and he gasped, sucking in breaths that felt too thin, too fast. He clawed at his jacket, his fingers curling into the fabric as if he could hold himself together by force. Beneath his knuckles, he felt the cold press of the chain biting into his palm. It grounded him for a split second. Then he pounded his fist against his chest, desperate for his heart to start pumping right, for the flood of blood and panic to make sense. The breaths kept coming, shallow and ragged, like he’d surfaced too quickly after being pinned at the bottom of a pool.

And then his mind went somewhere darker.

The images hit him like shrapnel, tearing through his consciousness with merciless clarity. He saw the blood first—always the blood. Bright red streaks against the floor. The torn bodies of his parents, their screams he could still hear echoing if he listened hard enough. Andres's face—the shock in his eyes when the bullet hit him, the way he’d crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. Jay's own blood pouring from his side after being stabbed. The fear of knowing he'd lost. 

“I got them all killed,” he choked out between gasps. His lips felt numb from crying, his throat raw and aching. He hated it—hated the mess of himself, hated the weight of Natalie’s steady gaze on him as he fell apart in front of her. His body shook so hard he thought, fleetingly, that it might never stop.


He didn’t wait for Natalie to say anything, to deny it, to soothe him with lies he couldn’t bear to hear. “Don’t—don’t say it wasn’t my fault!” His words tumbled out like a dam bursting, a torrent he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. “I did it. I failed. If I hadn’t shot Andres… If I’d kept my head… Zakarias wouldn’t have…”

His voice cracked, a sound ripped from deep in his chest. “She was so tiny. So limp. Her arms—God, her arms—” He doubled over, his hands clutching his stomach as if the memory itself had struck him there. “I lied to them all before that. Ditched them before that. I was selfish before that. My whole life—my whole fucking life, Natalie—I shouldn’t have even been born.”

His body shook with the force of the sobs, and he hated himself for it. Hated the tears that burned his cheeks in the freezing air. Hated the sweat that soaked his skin, the sting in his chest where the cold gnawed at him. Hated the weakness that had led him here, the cowardice that made him too afraid to even end this misery.

He finally looked at her. It felt like a punishment, meeting her eyes. Her gaze held nothing but softness. His own face was a mess of sweat, tears, and cold, blotched red and pale in turn.

“How can I…” His voice broke on the words, trembling just like his body. “How can I live with this? With all of it? How, Natalie? Please—” His breath caught, his chest buckling again as another sob clawed its way out of him. “Please, tell me how.”

[Natalie Grey]

Jay was bleeding out, and she didn’t know how to stem the tide. Or if she even could. It was terrifying to witness a precipice she could not protect him from, and it wounded her deeply; the way he thrashed at himself, the desolation of his expression, the uncontrolled heave of his sobs. He was shaking like he had simply become unhooked from reality. But it wasn’t her own pain that mattered. She said nothing in those moments, not even when he pulled free of her hand and the loss stilled her with helplessness. He knew she was there, and the only thing she could do was wait, trying to suppress the desperation of her fears as he seemed to slip further and further away. She didn’t know what else to do.

In the park she’d seen these scars, but he’d hidden them away from her then; packaged them up in tired grins and flippancy. And she’d let him tell himself those lies, offering intimacy because she didn't know how to fix it for him, uncertain of how to even begin navigating the battlefield of his soul without breaking him – afraid of exactly this. Because Natalie knew she was the last person he’d ever want to witness it. She’d felt the same when she'd once shut him out of a casino bathroom while she fell apart herself. Some demons were too dark, too vulnerable. They revealed too much.

She didn’t know how to reach him in that place.

So when Jay finally began to speak, the words tumbling sharp and broken, she found some small shard of relief in the fractured moment. She’d never been sure he would talk to her. In fact she'd been afraid he never would – that it would always be between them. The sudden trust tore something inside her, releasing all the chains on her iron composure. She hadn’t quite realised what it meant, to love someone who couldn’t let you in for the sake of their own sanity. Or maybe she just knew it too well. Either way it stung her eyes, leaving them tired and blushed pink with suppression. She wouldn't cry, but her breathing was tight. Natalie was good at denying feeling in the moment, but this was too much. If there was ever a moment to feel the weight of her own heart in her hands, it was now.

He begged her not to lie to him, but he must have known by then that she never would. Natalie’s lips never parted the whole time he spoke. While he blamed himself for what happened she knew what he really blamed was his inability to follow orders in the first place: the black and white shield that absolved the guilt of consequence, made it obedience and not a mistake. She understood what her grandfather had meant then, about Jay being a soldier. And perhaps that was the answer he needed – the numb path, one dissolved of attachments he no longer had to maintain. Life chained to a pin and its duty: to do whatever the Custody required of him. Maybe that was what Brandon intended to forge in America all along. Or maybe it was just a weapon fortified in opportunity. Natalie didn't know. But she remembered how Jay had entrusted her with the Dominion pin. She knew what it meant to him, and she saw how he wore the uniform now.

Only ultimately she was selfish. It was never a path she could offer him – nor even bear to point out its possibility, afraid that once his eyes turned to that horizon they would never look back for her. Because she would always be the obstacle to that singular duty, even if he never accepted why. Even if he never truly saw her there. For it hardly escaped her notice that Jay's breakdown happened at a wedding.

Framed in cold shadows softened by the glow from inside, the faint thump of music a vibration around them, her heart sank deeper. She thought she finally understood something then. About him. About herself.

Natalie's own father did the same; cut her out of his life to protect her. He didn't trust her to make those decisions and take those risks for herself. In fact both her parents conspired to that end. She tried and failed to forgive, recognising the same weapon in Jay’s hands every time he distanced himself. But what she realised now was that it was only ever himself Jay cut out. He pushed away rather than be seen, and he buried it all even from himself. Alistair looked in the mirror and felt no guilt. Jay couldn't even glimpse the reflection.

Every time he’d pulled away she'd silently warned herself they did not want the same things. That the veracity of fierce  feeling she’d confided in him and regretted ever since was the very thing he recoiled from.

Her chest caved in when she realised she was actually looking at a man who just did not think he deserved it.

Words couldn’t encapsulate everything she wanted to say. Everything she felt, everything she regretted, everything she feared. She leaned to press her hand to his cheek, uncertain if he’d only flinch away again as the sobs clawed out of his chest. It wasn’t a gesture of kindness, nor one that tried to soothe. She didn’t have that comfort to give. She couldn’t tell him things would be okay. She couldn't pretend he was blameless. But it was a hand that would always reach out of the dark to where he was.

“With me,” she told him. Her tone was soft and raw, but completely certain – and vulnerable in a way she had promised to protect herself against in future, knowing it was a promise she would always break for him. Even then she wasn't sure of his response; if it would actually reach the part of him she was desperate to reach, draw him back, or if he'd just use the weapon she handed him to sever himself clean. Free of that burden he wouldn't need to feel. Because her heart wasn’t in her own hands at all, but his.

She tasted salt on her lips when she spoke, but her expression was soft, the track of tears lost in the shadows. “You live it with me, Jay. One day at a time if we have to. Because I don’t want to do this without you.”