FicWad

A/N: Okay, okay...if I can help it, I loosely promise this will be the very last Keefe/Jessie fic that I write. I really can't think of any other characters these songs would work with, and I keep getting new ideas all the time...so...yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Stab My Back"

Song Used: The All-American Rejects' "Stab My Back"


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Fifty-Seven: Stab My Back
Puppet: Keefe O'Kane


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Now we're broken,
On the floor,
She just wants me to share her,
It hasn't been this way before,
She just wants me to dare her...

When I was a kid, I'd always had a hard time sharing.

No matter how small or insignificant something of mine was, I didn't want anyone touching it. It was mine, and I refused to let anyone take that away from me. My mom always thought I was some crazy future ax murderer because I would go berserk on anyone who dared break one of my things, precious or not. It was just lucky, I guess, that Mac was the only youngster I liked to play with on a regular basis and he learned the lesson much faster than they did.

Thing was, I never really got over that. Sure, I learned how to be civil about it when something of mine was taken, but I never stopped feeling my blood boil. Even if I found that just one or two of my guitar picks was missing, I'd have to hunt it down and make sure whoever took or moved it knew that it was mine.

As far as I was concerned, I gave these people my time and energy and that should've been enough for them. To touch my things without asking first was crossing a line; if they had to have my things, I felt like they didn't accept me for me. How could I give them my time then, knowing every second was wasted on them?

I couldn't share her. Not with him. Not with anyone. She was mine; nobody else's. End of story.

And she thought she fooled me when she said she'd broken up with him? I was such a fool for her, but just how stupid did she think I was, exactly? She may not have been lying then, but just the idea that when I'd kissed her I was kissing lips tainted by someone else...

It made me sick to my stomach. It made my soul burn with fury. It made my heart sting like a thousand needles poked into my chest.

It wasn't always like this. It used to be that thinking of her made me feel warm all over, inside and out, no matter how cold or down I was; now it just made me feel hollow. It used to be that the thought of seeing her again made me wish time would speed up, or that she wouldn't leave; now I dreaded just going to school because that would mean I'd have to see her. It used to be that the thought of touching her made my skin tingle, eager to hold her; now it just made my skin crawl. It used to be that the thought of kissing her made my heart skip a beat; now it just made me wish I'd never touched my lips to hers.

It used to be that I lived for the moments when she told me she loved me; now, now that I knew she'd been lying every single time she'd said those words, I felt like shrinking into nothingness. I knew she wanted me to forgive and forget...

But I couldn't.

The phone rings,
(The phone rings),
And she screams...

But I tried hard not to think about Jessie right now. I'd let her torture me for four days now, and though I still wanted to hold on to my hurt, it was hard when Mac was doing his best to cheer me up. I'd had a close encounter with a pocket knife yesterday and he was bent on making me forget, even to the extent that he faked the illness I had in my lungs to get out of school for the day.

Mac never missed school, even when he was about ready to drop dead. I knew that, and appreciated his company more than I could say in words.

“So what do vegetables do all day?” he muttered from his bed across the room, which he'd resolved to stay in as long as he could manage (made it more convincing, he said), “Stare at the ceiling and count the non-existent tiles?”

I would've loved to have laughed and said, “something like that,” but I didn't get past the laughing part without wheezing. My breath felt like it was being dragged back down into my lungs with more and more force the harder I tried to breathe, and the small amount of air that managed to squeeze through only made me thirstier for more. I started to cough in an attempt to loosen up my throat.

I couldn't breathe. A sort of black terror settled over me, even though I knew that it would pass.

“Don't suffocate!” I recognized my brother's voice over the overwhelming hacking sound and felt his comforting presence beside me, his arm about my shoulders. He thumped one hand gently but firmly against my back between my shoulder blades, obviously thinking that would help.

Surprisingly, it did, and the coughing fit passed and I could breathe somewhat easily again. “Thanks.” I muttered, even though I wasn't completely sure if he'd really helped or not.

“Jesus,” Mac growled with a shake of his head, “don't scare me like that.”

I nodded, unsure why he would be dumb enough to say something like that. It wasn't as if I could control it, even though I wished I could. I was fairly certain that this was somehow Jessie's doing; her loss caused me a lack of sleep, therefore lowered the strength of my immune system and made it easier for me to fall prey to this...sickness, whatever it was.

Both of us jumped when the phone, which Mac had left up there after talking to Paige and letting her know he wasn't dead, rang shrilly. Normally, I would've reacted first, but my senses were dulled and Mac got it. “Hello!” He answered cheerfully, as if he were expecting it to be Paige on the other line right now.

His face quickly darkened. “Um...” his eyes shifted to me and darted away again, “he can't talk right now. He's uh...sleeping.”

Jessie.

“Gimmie the phone, Mac.” I said shortly, holding my hand out.

Stab my back,
It's better when I bleed for you,
You walk on me,
It never was enough to do,
I can't get past her, falling fast,
It's true,
It hasn't done a lot for you...

My brother blinked at me in dumb surprise, his mouth hanging open slightly and his already big eyes going even bigger. Even in my weakened state, it wasn't hard at all to jump forward and snatch the phone away from him; his grip was loose and his reaction time was worse than a retarded turtle's.

“Keefe here,” I said softly, knowing in the back of my mind this was going to be the death of me but unable to keep myself from wanting her, “what do you want this time, Jess?”

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she replied, not sounding the least bit surprised that I knew who she was right away, “you weren't at school again today, I noticed.”

I set my jaw. “I told you I was sick,” I grunted pointedly, “thanks for remembering.”

I could sense her frustration even though she was obviously trying to keep her voice calm, but decided not to mock it the way I wanted to. “Look, how many times am I gonna have to tell you that I'm sorry? I know I messed up, okay? You're making it a bigger deal than it needs to be.”

I shot a glance at Mac, who was watching me with a tense look on his face, as if he couldn't decide whether he should steal the phone back or just let me talk. “Gee, Jess, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to make it seem like I did something to you.”

And every time he held you close,
Yeah, were you thinking of me?
When I needed you the most,
Well, I hope that you're happy...

The following silence told me my educated guess had been correct.

“I mean, it wasn't like I ran off to go see a random girl when I was supposed to be with you or anything,” I stated bitterly, “it's not like I tried to suck her face off and see if I could get some sex to go with it, ya' know?”

Mac's eyes looked about ready to pop out of their sockets, and all I heard on the other line was a sharp gasp of surprise. They always knew I was prickly, but very rarely did they experience my full, unbridled wraith.

“Or were you just thinking of me every time he shoved his tongue down your throat?” I spat venomously, “'Cause that would really make me feel better.”

Still she said nothing in her own defense, obviously stunned into complete silence by my sharp tongue. And I wasn't done, either. “Say it, Jess! Lie to me some more!”

The phone rings,
(The phone rings),
And she screams...

The phone twittered in my ear as another call came through from a different line. Mac started to move to take it from me, a look of relief on his face. It might be Paige, calling to ask how their English test went. He could stop listening to me and my ex-girlfriend fight, even though he could very easily just walk out.

Oh yes, he was very relieved...until I curled my lips into a ferocious, bestial snarl and glared at him, something burning in my very soul like wildfire. As if he were nothing but a tiny house kitten and I was a hulking tiger he wilted back into his seat, eyes darting from mine and head bowing slightly. I wasn't going to let Jess go so easily; she'd made me believe that she was more important than my life, and I wasn't going to let her get away with it.

Whether it had been intentional or not, I wasn't going to let her get away with it.

I waited with a morbid hunger for her to say something, anything that I could tear apart just as viciously as I'd done with her first jab in this fight. I would be the first to admit that I was a bit of a sadist when provoked, but never before had I felt this furious at someone.

Not even her little boyfriend could make my temper flare like this. Not even if he'd known that Jess was someone else's and had done all those things in spite of that knowledge. Not even if it turned out he'd screwed her.

No, I wasn't angry at him. Not at all. There was no point in wasting my time trying to find him. I had the harlot right where I could get to her.

Stab my back,
It's better when I bleed for you,
You walk on me,
It never was enough to do,
I can't get past her, falling fast,
It's true,
It's better when I bleed for you...

A broken, choking sob finally came through, and I felt the flame flicker with guilt; I'd made her cry again. “I-I was scared, Keefe,” she managed to say through her tears, “you just have so much going against you and I...I wasn't sure if I could do all this with you...”

“So you cheat on me,” I snarled sarcastically, “sounds like a great plan! Tell me, Jess, if I have so much 'going against' me, what made you think that adding one more thing was gonna make everything go away?”

“Look, I know I was wrong, Keefe!” she blurted, “Any other girl would've hung up on you by now! Why do you think I'm still talking to you?”

I couldn't think of anything to say to that.

I hope the love he gave you,
Was just enough to save you,
You nearly broke my heart,
Just look at what you're tearing apart...

“Stop calling, sweetheart,” I murmured softly, “it's over, all right? I don't want to do this anymore.”

“C'mon, Keefe,” Jessie's voice was wheedling, and it was all I could do to keep from giving in, “you said yourself that you still feel something...”

As if sensing it was a bad time, Mac stood and went out of the room, shaking his head. I bit my lip and looked after him, uncertain on what to say to that one, too. My flame had died out almost completely. “I do,” I whispered, instantly regretting letting my guard down, “but I already told you I can't.”

A slight sniffle. I coughed softly into my upper arm. “Why?” She asked tentatively.

“You...you've broken my heart once, Jess, and I almost...” I managed to grasp onto a couple of words, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her what I'd been about to do with Mac's pocket knife, “I don't think I can survive a second time.”

“Who says there has to be a second time?”

She sounded so heartbreakingly hopeful that I almost started to cry myself. “There will be,” I insisted, half wishing that I didn't believe it, “I can't trust you...I already told you that, remember?”

That was pretty much the end of the conversation right there.

I bowed my head and blinked back more tears on account of that silly girl on the other line, who'd already started to cry. Neither of us said anything, but neither of us hung up. I wasn't sure why; perhaps it was the shadow of the love we'd had together, the feelings that remained. All types of emotions twisted and turned in my head, and I wasn't sure which one was the right one. Hurt, love, guilt, anger...

We'd gone in circles, she and I. I, apparently, wasn't enough for her, but she thought I was too much to handle. We'd completely wasted our time on one another and gotten nothing out of it except two wounded hearts.

But, in a way, it was better to bleed for a girl I'd loved as much as Jess.

Stab my back,
It's better when I bleed for you,
You walk on me,
It never was enough to do,
I can't get past her, falling fast,
It's true,
It hasn't done a lot for you,
It's better when I bleed for you,
It never was enough to do,
It hasn't done a lot for you.


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A/N: I like writing from Keefe's point of view when he's mad. Hell, actually, I like writing him when he's mad just in general. I swear (loosely) that this'll be the last you'll hear of these two for a while.