Chapter Text
Jackie was straight up not having a good time.
She’d never been one to believe in Lottie’s dirt gods, especially after her disbelief had caused her to be iced out (literally) by the rest of the girls back in the wilderness. But right now, it seemed like she didn’t have much of a choice but to go along with it. Nat, the one former teammate she’d always respected, had apparently tried to kill herself and now seemed to be drinking Lottie's Kool-Aid, so Jackie had to stick around to make sure she was okay.
(And if a small part of her was worried about Shauna, what with the cops being after her for the murder of Adam Martin, well… Jackie wouldn't admit that if someone had a knife to her throat, which was an actual possibility, given the activities her former teammates were apparently involved in.)
So here she was. In some kind of cult led by Lottie Matthews in the middle of the woods. If Jackie had a nickel for every time that happened…
“That treatment is perfect for you, Jackie,” Lottie said ominously.
Jackie read the option Lottie was indicating on her stupid treatment menu, “‘Memento qui sis’? What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means ‘Remember who you are,’” Shauna chimed in, to Jackie’s annoyance.
God, she always thinks she’s so much smarter than me, Jackie thought, fuming.
“Since when do you speak Spanish?” Jackie muttered.
“It’s Latin, Jackie,” Shauna rolled her eyes.
Jackie’s face burned, “Whatever. Still, ‘Remember who you are’? Like okay, Mufasa, calm down.”
Only Van snorted at that. Tough crowd, Jackie supposed.
“We’re gonna get you started,” Lottie went on, “But before we do, you can text this landline number to whomever you think might need it. You’re gonna be giving up your phones.”
Jackie cringed a little at that. Usually, Nat would be her emergency contact (as useless as that was, considering Nat was usually in rehab), but now she was here with her. She supposed she could text one of her friends back in New York, but honestly, she wasn’t close (or at least not ‘be-my-emergency-contact-while-I’m-in-a-cult’-close) to anyone. Her parents were out of the question, seeing as she hadn’t spoken to them in years. Perhaps one of her ex-girlfriends? Maybe her coworkers at the school?
“You’re kidding, right?” Tai complained.
“Our devices leave us captive to other people’s priorities,” Misty put in, looking comfortable with this entire situation.
“That’s…” Shauna said, “Mm, I can’t really argue with that.”
Jackie wondered whose priorities Shauna was held captive to. Jeff’s, most likely. Maybe her daughter’s as well? The thought sent a familiar spike of hot emotion through Jackie. Envy? Sadness? Loathing? Yep, definitely that last one.
Lottie held out a bowl for them to put their phones in. Jackie sighed and quickly sent off a text to her boss saying that a family emergency had come up, so she wouldn’t be able to make it to work tomorrow. Which, speaking of, did none of the others have jobs to go to? Besides Lottie, whose job title was apparently 'Cult Leader', which was just great. Maybe Jackie could add 'Cult Follower' to her LinkedIn profile.
Jackie was quickly led away by one of the creepy purple people. They instructed her to strip and gave her a purple towel to wrap up in. Apparently, it was essential to the treatment. Jackie was pretty sure she was about to be knocked out only to wake up later missing a kidney, but she would rather deal with that then leave here without ensuring that Nat was okay. She owed her, after all…
Next, they led her to what felt like a sauna, though it was too dark to see. Steam rose up all around her as Jackie relished the warmth. She was always so cold. Maybe this treatment actually was perfect for her. Thank you, Lottie Matthews?
Before Jackie could ask any questions, they shut the door behind her, and she was alone. The lights flickered on, revealing a steamy room fully covered by mirrors.
Jackie groaned. She usually tried to avoid mirrors. Not that she wasn’t confident in her appearance. She was! She just… tried not to focus too much on it. Down that road lies madness. She would notice all these little imperfections about herself: a gray hair, a wrinkle, her Frankenstein hands, how you could tell she was missing an ear from certain angles. And whatever she’d noticed would become all she could focus on. Back before the Fight, Shauna would always snap her out of these spirals with little compliments. But that was long gone now: back in the movie of her fucking life. Shauna had been right about that at least, in the sense that everything about that life had been fake. Actors, props, makeup, costumes—all part of a movie about the picture perfect girl Jackie was supposed to be. She only got one part wrong: Shauna was certainly not an extra in this movie.
INT. JACKIE’S CHILDHOOD BEDROOM — DAY
A younger, happier JACKIE squints at herself in a mirror. A younger SHAUNA watches her from her perch on the bed. Jackie's Mariah Carey CD plays softly in the background.
JACKIE
Ugh, I look so ugly. This zit is the size of a fucking nipple.
SHAUNA
Come on Jackie, you know that’s not true. You’re the prettiest girl in our grade.
JACKIE
(visibly delighted)
Really?
SHAUNA
(visibly annoyed)
Duh.
JACKIE
Well, Shipman, I know for a fact you’re lying about that.
SHAUNA
What do you mean?
JACKIE
Because you’re the prettiest girl in our grade, duh!
SHAUNA
(blushing)
Oh my God, Jackie, shut up. You’re so corny. And you know that’s not even true, like, at all.
JACKIE
Yes-huh it is! And you know what will make it even more true?
SHAUNA
If you say ‘the red lipstick’, I’m leaving.
JACKIE
…Then I won’t say anything. I’ll just show you.
The two girls laugh as Jackie unsuccessfully tries to put red lipstick on a resistant, squirming Shauna. Imperfections such as nipple-sized zits seem long forgotten.
Self-obsessed.
She tried not to be like that, but it looked like today she had no choice. She glared at her reflection in the mirrors, which also reflected mirrors on the other walls to make the image appear infinite. Infinite Jackies stretched on and on, all glaring with their hands on their hips.
“Oh my god,” Jackie gasped suddenly, “Was my hair sticking up like that the whole time?”
She hastily smoothed down the unruly lock of wavy honey blonde hair. Maybe Shauna hadn’t noticed it?
“Don't worry, you still look beautiful,” a familiar voice said fondly.
Jackie narrowed her eyes at the younger version of Shauna that had suddenly appeared in the mirror, “You.”
“Hi,” Shauna smiled softly at her—a smile that the real Shauna would never direct toward Jackie now.
“Come here often?” Jackie asked sarcastically.
Normally, this Shauna only appeared to Jackie in her dreams or when she was really upset. She was always secretly grateful for her presence during these times, desperately (perhaps pathetically) accepting whatever comfort she was offered. But sometimes, she showed up when Jackie was not in the mood. Jackie never knew how to act toward her in those times. Unlike the real Shauna, this Shauna would never respond to Jackie’s rude remarks with equal animosity. She was sweet—as sweet as Jackie had once imagined Shauna to be, before her true colors were revealed.
INT. JACKIE’S CURRENT BEDROOM — NIGHT
An older, sadder JACKIE wakes up from the usual nightmare. Snow. Screaming. A hot flash of pain as the knife slices-
Her panic is interrupted by the appearance of a familiar figure, now facing her in bed: DREAM SHAUNA, as young as she was when Jackie still believed they’d be together forever.
DREAM SHAUNA
Jax?
JACKIE
S-Shauna? Please…
DREAM SHAUNA
Shhh… It’s okay… I’ve got you.
JACKIE
Please don't leave me.
Jackie lays her head on Dream Shauna's chest. She feels so warm and protected that she begins to drift off to sleep.
But when she wakes up again, she's cold.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Shauna asked, walking up behind Jackie.
She was wearing her usual flannel and jeans combo, though it looked unnatural in the steam room and with Jackie wearing only a towel.
“Yes, you’re being a total perv right now,” Jackie rolled her eyes, “So scram, Shipman.”
“I’m not talking about this me,” Shauna replied calmly, ignoring Jackie’s jabs, “I’m talking about the other me.”
“Unfortunately, that Shipman is also here, yes,” Jackie sighed.
Shauna smiled, “So you’re going to talk to her?”
“Why would I do that?” Jackie grumbled, squinting at her reflection to try and make out a new wrinkle.
“So we can make up, of course,” Shauna said, like it was so simple.
Jackie scoffed, “Never-ever in a million years.”
“Why not?” Shauna said, her big brown eyes widening like a pleading puppy.
Jackie was eternally weak to that look.
“Because,” Jackie said, taking a deep breath, “We hate each other.”
“But I love you,” Shauna said sincerely.
Hearing that once-beloved voice saying those words never failed to make Jackie’s lower lip tremble and her eyes water.
“Please, don’t say that,” Jackie replied, squeezing her eyes shut, “Just, please.”
“But it’s true,” Shauna insisted.
“Shut up!” Jackie shouted, frustrated by this warm, false version of her former best friend after being exposed to the cold, true version of her for the past few hours, “Just shut up! No you don’t. You hate me, and you’ve always hated me.”
“I love you, Jackie,” Shauna repeated, embracing Jackie from behind.
Jackie sobbed at that and collapsed back against Shauna’s chest, gripping the sleeves of her flannel.
“I wish you were real,” Jackie whispered, closing her eyes.
“I am real,” Shauna replied, pressing her lips to the crown of Jackie’s head.
But when Jackie opened her eyes, she was alone.