Biography
Articles
Gallery
Art
Screen Caps
Jason Videos
Sports
Random Stuff
About Me

Art

Fan Fiction

Tru Calling: Scars

Summary: "We all have scars, Jack. But this? These scars? This is all my fault."

The young brunette hesitantly raised her clenched fist to the door and knocked.

About a half a minute or so later, the door opened and a man of about medium height dressed in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt now stood in front of her.

"Come in."

Tru Davies obliged, but not before maintaining a few solid seconds of eye contact with the man opposite her. Jack Harper, her supposed nemesis.

Jack couldn't help but grin as Tru walked through his front door, shutting it behind her.

"What's wrong, Tru?"

Tru turned to face Jack.

"We have to stop doing this," she told him.

"Do we? You're not gonna tell me we're disrupting the balance by doing this, are you?" As Jack spoke, he slowly circled around her until he was directly behind her, reaching his hand out to gently touch her shoulder.

Frustrated and unhesitant, she stepped forward, shaking his arm away.

"Can we just get this over with?"

Tru turned to face Jack as he gestured to his bedroom, which lay enveloped in the darkness ahead. "Ladies first."

She entered his bedroom, settling herself down on the edge of the bed as Jack turned on the lamp nearby. The light barely illuminated his small room, but it didn't matter as the remaining darkness cast eerie shadows upon the two balancers of the universe.

Jack joined Tru at the edge of the bed, mesmerized by the beautiful woman he saw beside him. The lamp's dim light reflected the perfect contour of her neck and shoulders as he caught a glimpse of the exposed flesh on her neck. Her scent was sweet, warm and inviting. So perfect he could almost…

Stop. He forced himself to remain composed.

"Take off your jacket," he told her. No sooner had he said that, it fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. The lavender blouse she wore underneath was noticeably stained with red blotches of blood.

Jack braced himself for what was to come as Tru inhaled deeply. There was an interminable amount of silence between the two until…

"He hurt you again, didn't he?"

Silence.

"Yes."

She was silent once more.

"He's turned into a monster," she finally said. "He's not the same person anymore, Jack. He's not the same Jensen that I once knew."

"Do you blame yourself?"

"Sometimes," Tru replied. "Sometimes I feel as though I unleashed this monster… how could I have slept with him?"

"You messed with Fate. Now you're facing the consequences."

"Screw the consequences! It shouldn't have gone this way. It should have ended by now."

Tru was angry at this prospect and looked as though she was about to cry, waves of anger and frustration spilling from inside of her.

"But then these nights would have to end, too. And then you wouldn't have anyone to run to for help."

Tru knew Jack was right, although some part of her also knew that he wouldn't stand to see her suffer. However, she often pushed that thought as far away as possible, lost in the deep crevices of forgotten memory.

"I'd still have Harrison and Davis."

"But they wouldn't understand you… not like I do."

At the subtle intimacy of his response, Tru looked up at him with wide, frightened, angry eyes.

"You have no idea how I feel! How can you say that?" she retorted hotly.

"I understand more than you think," Jack replied quietly, taking advantage of this opportune moment by quickly brushing the single fallen tear that ran down her pale cheek.

Fueled by a momentary explosion of anger and resentment, she slapped his hand away.

Jack was stunned at Tru's unexpected gesture. "I'm sorry."

"Don't. Don't even start."

He grinned. "Are you ready?"

Tru nodded slowly. "As ready as I'll never be."

The delicate fabric of her blouse brushed gently against her bruised skin as she peeled the blouse away.

"Oh, my God," he breathed.

He gaped at the unsightly scene before him.

Black and blue bruises marred the lightly tanned skin on her back. Random splotches of blood also had caked on her once silky smooth skin.

"This is really bad, Tru. Why didn't you come sooner?"

Tru made no effort to respond, but her eyes burned with a harsh ferocity. The answer shimmered somewhere along the rims of her wet eyelids. She hadn't come to him until now because she hadn't been ready just yet. She didn't want to face the painful reality of the situation… not yet… not until now.

Jack was able to clean and dress her wounds properly, offering her his hand to squeeze whenever the pain became unbearable. She seemed oddly comforted by this extra gesture of kindness, though she knew it wouldn't last.

It couldn't.

The never-ending battle between Life and Death, of Destiny and Fate, of all that kept the universe in balance would resume. Now, the boundaries that bleed together enveloped by an unsettling darkness would separate and dissolve as the imminent splash of sunlight emerged to meet the vast expanse of sky and clouds.

But not now. Not just yet.

"All done," his dark, cold whisper reverberated in her ear.

He tossed her bloody blouse aside, planning on washing it for her later. She slipped on an over-sized gray sweatshirt, which she didn't hesitate to take from him when he offered it to her.

Now Life and Death found themselves momentarily ripped from the chains of reality into a world all their own. Neither of them made eye contact with one another, becoming lost in the disillusionment of their own minds. Tru's face was serious yet contemplative while Jack's was worried but smugly determined.

"I better go," Tru whispered suddenly, startling Jack out of his trance-like reverie. "Thanks for the sweatshirt."

She grabbed her jacket and bloody blouse off the floor and started to head out.

"Tru, wait!" Jack called after her, catching up with her as she reached his front door.

"It's late. Maybe you should stay. Just for tonight."

"No, I couldn't. I don't want to intrude or -…"

"You're not intruding. I could always sleep on the couch, you know."

"Since when have you become Mr. Hospitality?" Tru retorted.

Jack suddenly pulled her to him, so there were only a few precious inches separating them. Tru startled and her heart pounded ferociously inside her chest. The jacket and blouse fell to the floor as she suddenly became entranced by the magical mystery of his crystal blue eyes.

"Since when have you become so damn sexy?" he breathed, the warm flesh of her neck still exposed as she felt her skin begin to tingle. Her breath caught in her throat for a second until his message had fully registered.

Jack's manipulative seduction was met with a quick smack in the face.

"Bastard!" she exclaimed, stepping back and flashing her flaming brown eyes at him.

He reflexively rubbed the spot where she had slapped him.

"Spoke too soon," he mumbled under his breath.

Tru now stood a few feet away from him, her dark brown eyes still burning like a recently ignited fire with her arms crossed defiantly against her chest. "Are you always like this every time you want to get into a girl's pants?"

"Ouch," Jack mocked with feigned hurt. "You almost cut a nerve there, Tru. I'd be careful with that dirty mouth of yours."

"I really have to go," Tru put her hand on the doorknob and began to twist it slowly when she suddenly collapsed to her knees, screaming in pain, her breathing becoming heavy.

"Tru, what's wrong? What hurts?" Jack asked as he knelt down and took her by the shoulders.

"My legs… hurt…" she choked, gesturing to the inside of her legs, her fingers tracing a pattern along the inside of her jeans.

"Come on," Jack said as his arms carefully wrapped around her, picking her up almost effortlessly and carrying her back to his bedroom. He lay her down above the soft cotton sheets.

"Where exactly does it hurt?"

Tru traced the same delicate pattern between her legs as before.

"Will you let me look?"

As much as she didn't want to, she obliged once more and slowly unfastened the buttons on her jeans. Pushing them down gently, she let them slide along her bruised thighs. Rough, coarse and unforgiving, they slid past her knees and calves to her feet. Then she kicked them off and they landed with a thump on the floor.

"Jensen… he did all of this?" Jack whispered, horrified at the intensity of the violence Tru had endured.

"I… I tried to get him to stop," Tru choked softly. "To see the pleasure on his face when he…"

"Shhh," he soothed her, wiping away another fallen tear and kissing her forehead. "Your legs aren't bleeding and there's nothing I can do about the bruising. But you will have some scarring on your back. It's inevitable, I'm afraid."

He offered her a pair of his own sweatpants, which were extra loose on her, taking them silently.

Tru said nothing; her brown eyes reflected dappled pools of hurt, betrayal and confusion as Jack stared at her. Silence kept them lost in their own thoughts, lost amidst crashing waves of guilt, fear and a dangerous desire heated just below the surface.

Tru's voice broke the lingering silence.

"We all have scars, Jack. But this? These scars? This is all my fault. And now I -…"

Jack silenced her by pressing a finger to her lips. "So maybe it was wrong for you to save him. You gave him a second chance when his time was already up and when he was supposed to stay dead. Yes, it was wrong. But you couldn't have known he was going to take things this far. He had no right to treat you this way."

He moved closer now, leaning over to brush more tears away, showing her this gentle gesture meant her no harm.

"Let me help you," he said; his breath spilled ripe fumes of his dangerous intoxication on the creases of her neck. "Let me help you put his death back on track."

"But we all have scars, Jack. Some things we just can't afford to overlook. No rewind day can change this. No rewind day can make this right. It's too late for that. It's too late…"

Climbing into bed beside her, he pulled her towards him. His hand reached out and brushed a few delicate tendrils of hair from her eyes, memorizing the feel of her soft curls between his fingertips. Their eyes met in the shimmering glow of the lamplight, caught between a precarious balance of dangerous uncertainty and passionate fervor. In the moment their lips met, the world around them stopped spinning as they became spiritually joined in a universe only sacred enough for them to experience.

Jack was the first to pull away, his hand still tangled in her curls as he gently stroked her hair.

"We all have scars, Tru," he told her. "But together, we can make this right."

Fin.