September 15th, 2012

From the moment the plane had taken off in Georgia, Jackie knew that she was in over her head. The entire plane ride she was stiff, uncomfortable, and was gripping the armrests of her seat so hard she thought she might crack a bone. The stewardess was doing her best to be helpful, but Jackie just wanted to sit quietly and stare straight ahead waiting for the death trap to land.

Things didn't seem to get much better once she caught a cab outside of the airport. Jackie couldn't have looked, sounded, or acted more like an American in another country if she had tried. The people were polite and she returned the favor, but the odd looks at her heavy Southern drawl were getting real old, real quick. Although she wasn't entirely looking forward to coming face to face with Ella, Ben's soon-to-be ex-wife, she knew it meant she was that much closer to getting home to RhyDin and it was a welcomed thought.

The cab rolled to a halt outside of a two story brick house in the middle of the suburbs, a nice big lawn stretching out in front of it. Jackie wasn't so sure why she was so surprised or impressed considering Ben was a homicide detective and all. The cab driver was given the word to wait and she was slipping out of the backseat with Ben's letters tucked in her back pocket.

As she approached the porch and moved up the steps she found herself smoothing the fabric of her camo t-shirt, thankfully not cut to hell today, and running her fingers through her messy blonde waves. What was she trying to accomplish? Was she trying to impress Ella? Who was she? With a shake of her head and a deep bracing breath Jackie rolled the nerves from her shoulders. A hand was brought forward and landed four solid knocks on the door of the home sweet home before her.

The home was a good representation of the falling-apart of this family -- the lawn was a little overgrown, so was the landscaping. Just a little. It's the beginning of the school year -- maybe time's just gotten away, the stress of all that? It almost seems like no one is home (though there are lights on inside the house), but after a long pause, maybe half a minute, somebody's pulling the door open, just a crack -- enough to see a sliver of somebody's face, the blue of an eye. It opens wider after a couple of seconds, and it must be Ella.

She had been pretty once, before stress had gotten to her (cheating husband, missing child -- and the drugs certainly hadn't helped her any), and really, she still was -- but in a tired way, a drained way, used up. Her face is a little gaunt, her hair's not done, hangs limply, and it's a dark auburn, but there's a lot of grey obvious in her roots. The blue sweater she's wearing is a little oversized, and it doesn't help the impression that she's maybe a little too thin for her frame. But even considering all of that, she's friendly enough -- she's sober, now. "Can I help you?" Apprehension in her voice, a little, but polite.

When the door opened Jackie's brown eyes swept the woman from head to toe out of habit, but nothing in her expression was sour. Actually, she did her best to put on her friendliest smile. One she would use when greeting new faces at the bar that looked a little out of place and needed an extra sweet nudge to feel comfortable. "Hello, ma'am. My name is Jackie Lee Daniels." What was she supposed to say after that? Jackie had been been practicing this speech in her head for days, but actually being in front of Ella now made her mind go blank. "I know yer..." Husband? No. Ex-husband? Their divorce technically wasn't solidified. "Ben Sullivan. Yer Ella, right?" The smiled faded out, it was too hard to hold and the confidence was even too much to fake for Jackie.

Ella's reaction isn't going to do any wonders for Jackie's confidence either. She's still smiling, faintly, when Jackie introduces herself; her brows are lifted a little, encouraging her to go on -- but when she mentions knowing Ben, Ella's expression is instantly flat, and her eyes narrow a touch; she folds her arms, body language closed. "Yes, I'm Ella. What do you mean, you 'know' him? Why are you here? I haven't heard from him in over a month, if you're another one of his girlfriends," and there's obvious bitterness in the word, like it was a bad taste in the mouth to say -- like she really didn't mean 'girlfriend' at all, was implying something much more informal (and judging her for that). "So if you're looking for him, I have no idea where he is. Try some slummy bar or a whorehouse."

It was the sort of body language that would put Jackie on edge and instantly make her bow up like a bulldog ready to pounce on a normal day, but she remembered Ben's text message from earlier. And please, whatever you do, don't punch her. Try not to. Yeah, yeah. There was another little roll of her shoulders before Jackie carried on. "I mean, he's currently livin' in the same city I am." Same house technically, but how deep did she really want to go into how well she knew Ben? Not far until she got the letter in Ella's hand. "He asked me tah come here 'cause it was the only way we could guarantee you'd be gettin' this letter from him." A hand reached for her back pocket to tug one of the two envelopes free and extend it towards the woman. "I saw 'im jus' this mornin' when I got on the plane tah come here. Jus'... read the letter from 'im. Please?"

Ella doesn't like the answer, and she really doesn't like that Jackie is trying to give her a letter. She's eyeing the envelope with open suspicion. "Why couldn't he just come himself?" But the script that spells out her name on the envelope is in her soon-to-be-ex's familiar handwriting, and without even needing to hear an answer, she takes the envelope, and though she doesn't really want to take her eyes off of Jackie, she does, for long enough to take the folded piece of paper out of the envelope and scan the letter.

Ella's initial question wasn't going to get a verbal reply anyway. It only made Jackie extend the envelope out that much further to her. It was all in there. It wasn't for Jackie to explain and she was so flustered right now she wasn't sure she would be able to say the right thing without shoving her boot in her mouth. Once the letter is out of her hand Jackie is letting her arm sink back down to her side. She wants to fold her arms over her chest, but it's too threatening. Hands in the pockets are too bored. Instead she's silent, still, and waiting.

At first she's looking skeptical, then scoffing quietly at something -- then her expression softens -- and as suddenly as her eyes swim with tears, they're gone, and she only looks angry. It takes her another moment to finish reading, and when she does and her eyes are on Jackie again, she still looks angry. "So. He's seeing you. You know he has a tendency to take up whore girlfriends on the side? --oh, maybe you're one of them. Young and pretty--" Again, that's the word she's saying, but it isn't all she means. "--that's his type." She's folding her arms again, keeping the envelope and the refolded letter between her fingers.

Jackie is studying Ella's expression carefully, watching as she runs through a whole gambit of emotions. She just wants one to lock in on so she knows how to respond. Oh, tears are... good? Right? Jackie could handle tears. And there they went, left with anger. Anger being turned on Jackie. Her brows rose and she gave a dumb automatic nod to the first statement. No use in hiding it now.

As Ella continues Jackie's brows rise, lips parting somewhat in surprise. Whore girlfriends. That just came out of this woman's mouth. "I assure you, ma'am, I'm not a whore girlfriend. Jus' the usual sorta girlfriend." Jackie's eyes narrowed into an unsure squint. No, that didn't come out right. Hands were lifted, trying to stop the conversation long enough for her to wrap her thoughts around everything. "I'm aware of Ben's condition. Like it said in that there letter, it's why he couldn't be here himself tah talk tah you on it. But I wanted tah help. It wasn't fair tah you tah not know where he was. So, here I am." A hand was shoved through her hair, forcing stray blonde away from her face. "I'm sorry Ben couldn't be here, Ella. But he wanted yah to know he didn't jus' up an' leave. He wouldn't do that tah you or tah Adam."

Ella's laughing, but it's the quick sort, unamused -- some disbelief in it, really. "Oh, he wouldn't? And you're 'aware of Ben's condition' -- that's cute. Hasn't he told you? He's already left us plenty of times. Adam, he-- It's Ben's fault, all his fault that Adam was missing for two years. He saw his stepfather, and just that, just seeing an old man -- he had some kind of psychotic break, and took Adam away to live with some woman in the woods -- and forgot. He forgot his own son." The wound is old by now -- it's been almost two years since Adam has been home, but it's still raw for Ella. She's still broken inside from it. "And instead of looking for him? Or instead of being home with me, while I'm remembering Adam? His condition is letting him check out and avoid it all. He's out screwing whores." Bitter, dripping with it.

"Is he somewhere with padded walls, finally? Is that why he can't leave? They finally locked him--" There's a voice in the background then -- a young boy, that much is obvious even though it's muffled, further in the house. Like that, Ella's forgotten all about Jackie, and she's ducking inside, closing the door most of the way to respond -- and then shutting it behind her. She does return after a few moments, though, and she's got a stack of papers with her when she opens the door, thick enough to be something substantial, but not so much that they can't be folded. There's a couple of three ring binders as well; she's shoving the papers and the binders into Jackie's arms. "You can tell him that he'd better sign those papers, because with all of that? He's never going to be able to be alone with my son again anyway. Maybe you should read it too," and there's amusement there, but it's terribly dark, "though if he's told you all about his condition, I'm sure it'll all be old news to you," derisive, incredibly.

Laughter was the last thing Jackie wanted to hear. She wasn't trying to be funny. Maybe she should have just shoved the letter in Ella's had and pretended to be mute. Things probably would be going better about now. "I ain't got it all on lock, but I'm workin' on it. I'm tryin'. An'... yeah, he told me 'bout Adam." The edges of her lips turning downward. "Not alla it, but he told me 'bout Adam. I'm sorry, but... he ain't psychotic. He ain't crazy. But that ain't here or there. It ain't mah place an' I already said too much on it."

Ella was going on with the crazy card and it was enough to set Jackie's teeth on edge. Thankfully it was the voice that pulled Ella and her back from a path neither of them probably wanted to go down. Jackie is lifting her gaze, trying to look past Ella for the source of the voice, but just as quickly a door is being closed in her face. It gave her just enough time to take a few short calming inhales and exhales before Ella made her return.

Blinking Jackie gathered the binders and papers into her arms, hugging them to her chest so nothing was lost. "Alright, Ella. He'll sign 'em an' I'll be sendin' 'em for him from my place in Georgia." Her eyes were still trying to go over Ella's head, wanting to catch sight or sound of who she assumed was Adam. It was Ella's final statement that made Jackie look at her again. "I ain't sayin' I know more 'bout it then you do, Ella. I ain't sayin' I'm even close tah understandin' what it was like fer you. But I'm tryin'. Ain't nothin' I'm gonna say though is goin' to cause yah to care so I ain't gonna waste mah breath on it." Another flicker of attention. "Is Adam home, Ella?"

Jackie's right -- there isn't a single thing she can say that will make Ella care about why Jackie is here, what she's trying to tell her. But isn't that understandable, in a way? It may not be sympathetic, but one thing Ella has always been good at is self-preservation -- no matter who else she needs to injure to survive. "No, he's--" But she's lying, and right away there's a voice behind her, cutting her off, yes I am -- Mom, is it about Dad? -- but it's further back in the house still, and Ella's blocking the small space left by the partly opened door.

"He's home," tersely, "and he doesn't need to speak with you." This time when she retreats into her home and shuts the door, Jackie would be able to hear not one but two locks being operated, one after the other.

Jackie opened her mouth, wanting to explain the letter from Ben to Adam, but when the door snapped shut her urge to speak went along with it. Just the little she knew about Ella it seemed very likely the letter would be torn to pieces before it made its way into Adam's hand. Jackie lingered on the porch, attempting to replay the mess of a conversation back in her head but it was too much.

With an extra heft to the binders and papers in hand she was turning to move off the porch and back to the cab. Was that it? Was she really going to go back to RhyDin with Ben's letter to Adam still in hand and say it couldn't be delivered? No, it wasn't an option. Jackie just needed time to clear her head of all that just happened then she could return with a game plan. "Fairmont Hotel, please." It was impossible to keep the defeat out of her tone. The parting gifts from Ella were still being clutched tightly to her chest. There was one last fleeting look given to the home sweet home. After that encounter it was so much easier now to spot the flaws than when she first arrived. Now Jackie could see it clearly for what it was. A broken home.

September 16th, 2012 - Late Evening

Jackie's meeting with Adam alone had be mentally and emotionally draining, but there was no time to pause and ponder on what they had to discussed. Jackie had a flight to catch. Another horrific flight. How did people do this? The entire way from Vancouver to Georgia she was a mess of nerves and lingering thoughts that she couldn't shake. It didn't help any that once she landed she had another two hour drive from Georgia to RhyDin.

It was too much time alone to simmer in her own thoughts and by time she was pulling up to Jerry's house to retrieve Ben, she had felt like she was aged years just over a weekend. Cowboy boots dragged when she stepped out of the truck and moved to the porch of Jerry's home. A hand lifted and a slow, lifeless knock was dropped against the door. As she waited, she stared straight ahead. There was nothing to do that could begin to mentally prepare her for the conversation that awaited her.

Ben had been anxious all day, too -- all weekend, really. But even after just the couple of text messages Jackie had sent while she was in Canada, the anxiety was mostly the good kind. So it probably doesn't help her that when Ben opens up the door, the most prominent emotion on his face is just happiness to see her, and he's catching her in a tight hug right away, pressing a fierce kiss to her cheek. "Good to see you," quiet, before he lets go, takes her by the hand and leading her inside before shutting the door. "You want a drink or anything?" He doesn't want to say it, but she doesn't look so great; even if he doesn't mention it, he can't entirely prevent some concern from knitting his brows slightly. "Flight easier the second time, or not so much?"

There is a flood of emotions when she first sees him, multiple reactions all spilling together and mixing into a mess. There was a lot of relief to see him, to know that his face meant she was back home. Not in the U.S., not in Canada, she was back in RhyDin where she belonged. But that was the problem, wasn't it? She was where she belonged, but what about Ben?

The hug is returned and her cheek tipped into the kiss. She's tugged along after him, her brows knit together in a similar fashion. She should have opened with a greeting, an 'I missed you', or talking about the flight. But she promised Adam, well she promised him a lot of things, but this was the easiest. "Adam is glad yer okay. He hopes yah can come back home soon." They had to be the first words out of her mouth.

Ben wasn't prepared for this. He thought he was, he thought he'd be fine, but he was kidding himself. He freezes a second after Jackie starts speaking, just looking at her; his lips thin, he swallows thickly. But after a few seconds, he fights back most of the emotion, looking away from her and not moving out of the entryway yet, but he is giving her hand an idle tug. "How ... how is he?" And then his focus is on Jackie again; he actually looks a little surprised. "And how did you get to talk to him?" He already knows there's no way Ella would have allowed it. "Were you there when he read it? Did he say how things are at home? --Jesus, I'm sorry," shaking his head at himself, "How are you?"

Jackie hoped when she had that out of the way that some of the weight that had settled atop her chest over the weekend would be relieved. It wasn't. Especially not with Ben's reaction. In fact, it feels like it's getting worse and it's taking everything she has to focus on all the questions that follow. "He's... Jesus Christ, Ben, he's jus' like yah. The spittin' image. Way he looks, way he talks, way he acts." She tightens her hold on his hand, but makes no movement to step away from the door just yet. She could stand here all night so long as he was there with her.

"He's..." She tried to start again. "He misses yah, but he's tryin' tah be brave. Told 'im he was bein' strong an' that you would be proud of him." The faintest curl flickered at the edge of her lips. "I made 'im smile." Then it was gone. "Ella wouldn't let me see 'im. I was gonna try again, gave up, an' he found me a lil' ways down the street. We walked to a park, sat on the swings."

She took a deep inhale, followed by a slow exhale. "I was there. Watched him read it over an' over again." Her lips thinning at the question of home, her memories creeping back to Ella. "I hate flyin'." It was all she had about herself at the moment. It didn't matter how she felt.

The emotions that surface when Jackie tells him that Adam is just like him are difficult to handle. Enormous pride, but so much pain, too. He thought this would make it a little easier, hearing that Adam is at least sort of okay, but it might just make the distance seem even greater, makes missing him even keener. He doesn't say anything about it though, and there's a ghost of a smile at his mouth. It doesn't fade when she goes on. "I'm glad you told him that. I am proud of him, really, really proud of him." Something does falter a little in his expression when he thinks over the rest of what she's said -- going to the park? sitting on swings? who knows; none that should be very emotional -- and he finally moves out of the entryway, into the living room, where he's taking a seat on the couch -- and no, he isn't letting go of her hand, either. "Do you think ... Do you think he understood?" It's vague, sort of, but he's pretty sure Jackie will understand. Switching topics pretty quickly after asking, he's lifting the hand not holding hers and cupping her cheek. "Sorry flying was so bad for you. Thank you for doing it for me. I'm telling you, I don't know how I'm going to make this up to you."

She's following after him into the living room and since her hand isn't released she's sinking onto the couch beside him. It's just now clicking amongst everything that she's in Jerry's house. Any other time she would have been nosily peeking around trying to find some sort of silly blackmail, but now wasn't it. Her gaze swept around enough to process what could only be considered a glorified bachelor pad before she's looking back to Ben. "I... I told him you'd be comin' back an' he asked if yah would be back fer his soccer game. So, at first? No. But he read yer letter an' it started tah click fer him. He asked me a loada questions. Told me that since he wasn't 'round yah might have a harder time gettin' better, but that I could help yah." Her head tipped into his hand and she shook her head. "Don't worry 'bout it. Don't mention it. I toldja I'd help. After meetin' him, I consider that trip all fer Adam." It was supposed to be an uplifting thought, but her expression only grew more sad. "He needs yah back, Ben."

He's wincing a little when she mentions Adam's asking if he'd be back that soon, but the pained look doesn't last. Ben knows his son is bright, knows that after the past couple of years together, that Adam understands a lot about his father -- more than a child his age should, probably, but it's better than his being in the dark. Smiling again, faintly, when Jackie's describing it clicking, that he'd asked so many questions -- a little less faint when she tells him that Adam told her she could help. It hurts, but it could be worse, so much worse -- so he's a little confused when she only looks more sad, maybe a little hurt when she voices that last thought. "I know he does." Dropping his hand from her cheek then, trapping her hand between both of his now. "And I'm working on it. I told you, I'm going to talk to somebody, I'm going to try to ... figure it out. I'll get back to him."

The back of her thumb is working at the knuckle his hand. It might seem like he was holding her hand, but she was the one trying to offer comfort through the gesture. "Sweetheart. I know yah know. An' I know yer workin' on it, but..." She was faintly shaking her head, bracing herself as the words continued. "There ain't no tryin' in this. There can't be. An' talkin' 'bout gettin' back tah him can't sound like some far off thang." Now she was placing her other hand ontop of his. "I remember before how yah told me gettin' back home fer yah could take years. But, darlin', if it's goin' to take that long it's gotta be backed by sure as hell, all yah got effort." She paused, waiting a while before dropping the last two words. They were the hardest out of them all. "No distractions."

Ben isn't entirely sure what she's getting at, but he doesn't like the way it sounds; his eyes narrow, just a touch, but he doesn't pull his hands away, and actually inches a little closer to her -- maybe just to drop his voice, because he's even quieter now, even though nobody else is home. "I'm doing everything I can. This isn't something I can just ... work harder at and make it happen faster. It's not. You know if I could fix it faster somehow, then I'd be doing it -- don't you?" It's a dangerous question, and the one that follows is even worse. "Was it something Ella said about me that's making you think I don't care about getting home?" He's trying to keep his voice neutral, but he can't completely, an undertone of bitterness in his voice.

"I know, yer talkin' tah someone. I ain't..." She's frowning openly now. There was all that time during her trip to sort this all out. It made sense in her head, but actually talking to him. Having him there to defend and counter, it wasn't making it as clean cut as she had thought it would be. She was trying to be selfless and it was a struggle. "There is not a damn thang that Ella said that I care 'bout. That woman is fulla lies an' it don't take more than a lil' sense tah figure that out." Her brows furrowed. "I know yah care about gettin' home, but I feel like I'm gettin' in the way of that. I care 'bout you, Ben, and I know you care 'bout me, too. But it seems like everyday we're comin' 'cross someone new we're hurtin' by bein' together."

She countered his lean, bringing herself closer to him so she could lower and soften her voice. "You didn't feel right that night when Chey an' I got into it. I keep tellin' yah up an' down I ain't gonna tell a soul whatcha got goin' on. Chey an' I... we can work it out. But I sat there lookin' face tah face with this lil' boy an'... it's so hard tah feel right 'bout me havin' you here an' gettin' tah see you, hold you, touch yah, talk to yah whenever I want. An' he was jus' pleased as hell at the idea that he gets tah write tah you." She was still working her thumb against his knuckles, refusing to loosen her hold on him.

There is some measure of relief when she tells him she didn't care about anything Ella had told her -- but it's fleeting, barely registers. It doesn't even show on his face at all. Instead he's leaning in a little more, touching his forehead to her temple briefly, ghosting a kiss to her cheek before breaking that contact, pulling away only enough to see her eyes if she's looking. "Jackie..." That's all he can get out before he lets out a sigh. "About Adam? If we don't..." Trailing off, starting over. "If you stop doing those things with me, it's not like I'm going to see him any sooner. It isn't your fault I can't go back to him right now. You aren't distracting me from that -- you're making it better for me, you're making it possible at all. I don't know if I would've found somebody to talk to if it wasn't for you, and I need some distraction, or there's no way I'm going to make it through this. Now, the other thing..." He keeps both hands around hers, lifts hers to smudge a kiss to her fingers; his mouth is still lightly against them when he starts, "If you can't..." Another trailing off as he lowers their hands; his eyes stay focused there now. "If you changed your mind, and the bad outweighs the good -- if it isn't worth it ... I'm not going to try to make you stay. I want you to, I really, really want you to, but ... I know I'm being really selfish by wanting that, and and I know it isn't fair to you to be dealing with ... everything. Causing all these problems for you, your family -- everything." He's so quiet by the end, just at a murmur, and still not looking at her.

She was staring straight ahead, even when he lingered closer to her. But she was right there when he was pulling back to meet her gaze. "I'm makin' it better fer you here. It shouldn't be better fer you here, Ben. I don't want yah tah suffer, but that lil' boy is. He's there, alone with her an' her venom. I'm sorry, that's yer ex and his Mama, but..." She was shaking her head. "It wasn't right. He kept sayin' how he doesn't want yah to ferget 'im, Ben. That's all I can think about. Him sittin' there sayin' how she keeps tellin' him yer fergettin', but how deep down he knows yah ain't. I wanna be there tah help yah, Ben. I'll always be there tah help yah."

She pulled her hands back from his, but only so she could cup his jaw and attempt to direct his gaze at her. "Sweetheart, you ain't the only selfish one here. We told each other from the start that we were willin' tah suffer through fer each other. That it was worth it to us, an' it still is. But did we really sit down an' think 'bout how it affected everyone else? What it means tah everything else we got goin' on?" Her voice lowered, quiet and honest. "I didn't. I jus' wanted tah be with yah. I still do, but... I don't know if it's right?"

That hits him hard, when she says that -- that Adam is suffering. He's ready to respond to that -- at least to say that he knows Adam won't believe it, that Adam knows he'll never forget, and that when she makes it better here, it's just better than almost intolerable -- but then she's taking his face in her hands, and he does make eye contact with her then, steadily, trying to keep the emotion out of his, even if he's failing. He doesn't say anything until he's pulling her into a tight hug, a little sudden in it, cheek to cheek with her, one hand in her hair. That used to be something he did to try and calm her down, but it's grown to comfort him, too. "It's not right. You know that. We've both known that from the beginning, Peaches." He's not letting go, not pulling back -- it's too hard to look her in the eye right now. "I guess it's just if you're still okay with that after realizing what it really means."

There's an inhale of surprise when he gathers her into the hug, but it doesn't take long at all for her to sink into his arms with her own draping across his shoulders and back. She's holding onto him, clutching him like it might be the last time. Would it be the last time? Is that where this was heading? Her face is tipped, burying her face against his neck. The silence is drawn out after he finished speaking. It almost seems like she might not answer him, but her voice sounds against him. Muffled and only able to be heard because it's so quiet around them. "I'm not okay with hurtin' people, Ben. I can't do it. I can't lie tah Chey like that. I can't do it tah Adam. Yah can say I ain't all yah want, but yah weren't there." There were no tears, she wasn't as broken as she had been before. Instead there was a solemn determination behind the words even if she couldn't bring herself to unwrap herself from him.

It's only by literally biting his tongue that he's able to not say it -- seems like you can hurt me just fine. He doesn't say anything for a long moment after she quiets, doesn't really move either, other than an idle play of his fingers in her hair. And as suddenly as he'd gathered her up in the hug, he's pulling away -- not far, but enough to put his hands on her cheeks, finally look her in the eyes; there's an intensity in his own that she doesn't see often in him. "Then tell her, Jackie. I don't want you to lie to her if you can't. And about Adam, this doesn't-- It isn't going to help him, if you-- It--" Words fail him, and his focus falls from her eyes to her mouth a couple of times, back and forth, like he's trying to keep looking her in the eyes but his attention keeps getting drawn away -- and then action takes over. One hand is still on her cheek, but the other is at the back of her head, buried in her hair, fingers curling into the blonde when his mouth is suddenly on hers in a crush of a kiss. It's a hungry thing, wanting, that much is obvious, but there's something desperate in it -- that much is obvious too.

When he pulls away she's reluctant to release him and she ends with her hands grasping at his forearms between them. Her gaze is meeting his, but it doesn't hold near the same intensity as his. Her eyes are tired, dull, and sad. No where close to having the same sparkle they usually do. Her lips part just enough to answer him when he fades off, but she doesn't get a word out before his lips are meeting hers in a ferocious kiss and she's drawn in towards him. Hands tighten around his arms and she's pressing deeper into that kiss. It's bittersweet though and somewhere deep down she wonders if he can taste it. Part of her figures he has to be able to with the way he's clutching her.

She's the first to carefully pull away, still not wanting to but she does it anyhow. "Ben, please." The words come out pleading. It's a voice she hates to use, that feels so awkward coming out of her mouth but right now it's needed. "Where does it stop then? I tell Chey. Then what? Then my brothers start askin' questions an' what do I tell 'em? Harper's askin' questions. Ten... sweetheart, nonea this is easy. Can you jus' tell me that yah understand where I'm comin' from? I'm tryin' to do right fer everyone. Fer you, fer me, Adam. Please don't make me start tah think I'm wrong by tryin' to do right." Her hand was lifted to brush the backs of her fingertips against his cheek, her eyes searching to find his again. "Please don't think this is easy fer me fer a minute, darlin'. Please."

It's bittersweet -- he can taste it. He knows it's a last ditch attempt, and he knows it's failed when she pulls away, when he hears the plaintive note to her voice. He drops his gaze, lets her go, and there's a little bit of a shudder in the sigh he lets out. "Does it matter, Jackie? Does it really matter if I understand? Here -- you want to go because this is more than you bargained for. I get it." Even though he's misstating, he really does understand. His tone had been a little short, but it softens now, though he still doesn't meet her eyes. "Didn't I tell you, the last thing I want to ever do is hurt you? I understand. All this is going to do is hurt you." He actually flinches away from her touch, reaching up to take her gently by the wrist, pull her hand away from his cheek before letting go. "Don't. Please."

There was a light shake of her head. "That ain't what it's about, darlin'. The last person I'm worried 'bout in all this is me. It might not make sense right now, but I'm hopin' with some time it will. I don't think nothin' I can say tahnight is gonna make it right an' that's okay." There a little lick to her lips. "If hurtin' me was all there was, I would take it, darlin'. I would hurt fer yah. An' I'm hurtin' now fer yah, even if it don't seem like it. Yah can think I'm a liar, think I'm a coward, think what yah want, darlin'. Onea these days it'll make sense." Her touch, her wrist is captured in his hand and fingers slowly curled in on themselves. "I'm sorry." Not just for the touch, but for everything. She meant it, it was clear in her tone, she just hoped that if he didn't exactly hear everything else that he would hear that.

He's shaking his head through a lot of that, but it's only once she apologizes that he finally looks up and tries to make eye contact. "No, it won't make sense. Because if it isn't about you hurting, then what is it? And don't--" He's pointing at her; there's something of a threat there, though he doesn't even come close to touching her, and the intensity of it is short lived, extinguished right after. "--say it's about Adam. Do you think it's going to make him feel better if he knows about this? That's your own guilt, and it doesn't have anything to do with him. This isn't going to get me back to him a second sooner. It doesn't fix anything for him." He doesn't say it, not now, but he's sure he's going to take longer, because f*ck if he's doing anything after this except crawling into a bottle for some time.

"And if it's about your family, or your friends? I mean it -- tell them whatever you want. That I'm f*cked up, that I have issues -- whatever. I don't care, I--" He's biting down hard on his lower lip -- can still taste her. "If this doesn't help me, and leaving isn't what you want for yourself either, then what the hell, Jackie?" The held back emotion is obvious in his voice; it's a little hoarse, littered with gravel. "Maybe I don't get it after all, because it doesn't make any sense at all."

She's watching him carefully when he looks at her, when he begins to speak, but it's at the jutting of his finger at her that her shoulders are curling in on themselves."Yah don't know that it's not goin' to help you, Ben." She's rising to her feet, unable to just sit and take it any longer. She sat and took it from Ella. She sat with Adam and tried her best. Now she was on her feet and pacing the living room. "Dammit, Ben! I'm tryin' here. I'm tryin' tah do somethin' f*ckin' sensible, somethin' I see as right in my eyes." She's not looking at him, she can't. She's walking back and forth, talking to the air now. It was a similar act she had going on in the airport when she was practicing all of this except now her audience was in the same room as her. "Yah shouldn't have tah tell anyone about yah fer my sake. That's yer secret an' it should come out when yah want to an' not by force. Not because I want it to."

She stopping on a dime now and looking at him. "Really? Really, Ben!? Look me in the eye right now an' yah tell me while swearin' tah Mary Mother of God that I ain't makin' a licka sense. You tell me in yer hearta hearts that you think I'm jus' bein' some young, stupid girl. That I don't know what I'm talkin' 'bout. It ain't often I gotta grasp on anythin' so maybe I'm jus' as confused as I always am." She's pointing at him now, there's no threat behind it like his held no matter how brief. It was calling him out. "Yah tell me I'm bein' young an' dumb. Yah look me in the eye an' say it. Yah can honestly tell me that havin' me here ain't distractin' yah none an' that if yah ain't had nothin' tah hold on here yah wouldn't work that much harder tah get back tah Adam? Tah get back tah him an' show him you ain't fergot none."

He's quiet through everything she says, watching her -- can't take his eyes off of her now -- but the tension just grows thicker as she continues; he looks just as heated as she sounds. When she's done, he finally gets up too, takes a couple of steps toward her. "I didn't say you're being young and dumb, Jackie, and I know you're trying to do the right thing -- but you have no idea. Yeah, I can honestly tell you that you aren't a distraction, and that if I didn't have you, I wouldn't be working harder. I told you, there's nothing else I can do -- and Jackie, goddammit--" He's laughing, but it's completely devoid of any humor; he doesn't want to get into this with her, but there's no choice now. "You are everything I have here. If you're going for your sake, then go -- that I can understand, I can accept -- but if you're doing it for me, to try to help me? I'll have therapy that I won't give a sh*t about, and I'll be making good friends with a different JD. --I'll have nothing, and it'll be because of nothing. Jackie, I can't--" The anger fades for a second or two, his expression falters; he tries to put the wall back up, but it's crumbled too far. "It's a mistake, to leave for my sake. I can honestly tell you that."

"You have no idea how that sounds tah me." She forces her fingers through her hair. A useless gesture since the locks fall back into a curtain around her face the moment her arms sink. "That's what I'm left with? Those are my two choices, Ben. Do yah hear what yer leavin' me with." One finger lifted. "I stay an' I feel like sh*t. I'm lyin' tah people I love, I'm feelin' guilty over Adam, I'm a glorified pacifier keepin' yah content in this town." A second finger lifted. "Or I leave. I try tah do right by me, by you, by everyone. An' yah toss it away. Yah don't go tah therapy an' yah fall right back off the wagon. This is what yer leavin' me with. This is what I got."

She took a step towards him and planted a hand against his shoulder to shove him back. It made no sense to get closer to him just to push him away, but her mind was quickly unraveling and very little was making sense anyway. "Nonea this is fair, Ben! Nonea it! I think I got a handle on things sayin' we should be together an' then that don't feel right. Maybe we'll be better apart, an' yer tellin' me that's gonna make yah even worse off." Her arms are pulled back, folding across her abdomen. All the anger and volume had escaped her. She was back to speaking softly, her voice almost quivering and on the brink of her losing control. "Fine, say it's fer me. It's all fer me. I'm selfish, I'm weak, I can't handle it. I don't care. It's all fer my sake."

"No, Jackie, I know exactly how it sounds to you. But what am I supposed to do? Let you think you're doing some noble thing to help me when I know it isn't going to turn out like that?" He takes the shove from her without retaliation, takes a step back from it, but it doesn't work, and he doesn't stay away from her -- really, he just erases the distance between them even further, enough that it's easy for him to put his hands lightly on her upper arms when she's going quiet again, and he's ducking his head a little, trying to catch her eyes, voice soft when he speaks. "Jackie, don't lie to me. I don't believe that. Can we just... Can we give it a little time? I know you don't want to make me give it up when I don't want to, when your family is asking you what's up -- but Jackie, I'd rather that than this. And if you feel bad about Adam, how do you think he's gonna feel when he finds out you aren't helping me anymore?" It's not very nice, what he's doing right now, but he isn't trying to be manipulative. Just trying to reason with her, even if it hurts. "Please, just give it a little time. Unless you can look me in the eyes and tell me you're leaving because you don't want this anymore."

When his hands are on her again, all of her movements come to a halt. She's still beneath his grasp, but it's impossible to tell just how long that's going to last. It's only from beneath the curl of lashes and heavy eyelids that she's peering back at him. "That ain't fair and y'know it, Ben. That's just plain cold usin' Adam like that. I'm gonna help yah still, no matter where we stand, but it can't be like this. I had mah reasons fer thinkin' we were gonna be better not seein' each other. I was tryin' to do right, an' deep down I still think my figurin' wasn't far off. We stick it out an' all I'm hearin' is a buncha ways to patch a sinkin' ship."

There was a deep breath and she squared her shoulders beneath his hands. Her chin lifted to look him in the eye. "But the choices yer givin' me? Them ain't fair. Not tah me an' not tah you. I can't be put in a position where you gettin' better rests so hard on mah shoulders. I can help yah, I wanna help yah, but I can't be alla that. An' it ain't fair to you tah think that yah gettin' better relies so much on me." Brows knit together while she thought about what she just said. The more she processed it, the worse it sounded. She lifted her gaze, brown eyes meeting those sweet blues. "I don't want that, Ben." It wasn't exactly what he demanded to hear, but it was hard enough getting those words out without allowing her voice to crack. She wasn't sure she could say it again without losing it.

"It's not a sinking ship, Jackie. We could figure this out." But it's a weak sort of protest -- not because he doesn't believe it, but because he knows she doesn't want to hear it. He lets her go, takes a step back, shoves his hands into his hoodie's pockets. His eyes are a little overbright, but he keeps eye contact with her. "That isn't what I asked you. But fine. Go. Don't call me, don't text me." He sounds cold, but it's an act, and his eyes give it away.

"I wish yah looked at yerself the same way, Ben. An' I hope yah do even when I ain't around. This ain't a reason tah give up. It's more reason tah fight." And just like that. Go. She's dismissed. What was she expecting? "I can abide by that. Adam said he was gonna send a letter out tomorrow. When it arrives I'll pass it along. Yah can call or text if yah need me." The words are all flat and automatic. She doesn't have it in her anymore to push and prod. If that's the act he wants and how he wants to leave it, well maybe it's better that way. She's moving towards the door and tugging it open. There's a pause in her steps like she just might say something and even give a look at him over her shoulder. But she knows nothing she says will make this better. It won't make her decision any clearer or make him accept it any faster.

Lips were pressed into a thin line to keep them still then she was stepping out the front door, closing it behind her with a soft click.

It's not how he wants to leave it, even if it might be better that way. Ben doesn't go after her when she's walking to the door, not when she pauses -- not even immediately after she shuts it behind her, is walking away. She'll get a few steps away before she hears the door opening up behind her, "Jackie, wait. Wait. What do you mean, it's more of a reason to fight? How do you figure?" If she hadn't said that, he would've been able to let her go, but he's searching for reasons right now, unable to find any, and it sounds like she's got a better idea than he does (and maybe, already, he misses her).

The path towards her truck is cut short when she hears him behind her. She's almost wincing, wondering if there was going to be more yelling. Another sharp demand of everything she's not supposed to do now? She's turning on her heels and tipping her head at his question. Quiet contemplation before she tried to explain. "The times when we're knocked on our asses. When it seems like nothin' can get worse an' we jus' sorta wanna lay down an' let the world pass us on by. That's when yah fight, darlin'. I ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy, but I'm tellin' yah it's gonna be worth it." A weak shrug followed and she was pulling her truck keys from her pocket. Bootsteps were carrying her backwards towards her truck without turning around, just one last lingering look of him on the porch. Maybe, already, she missed him, too. But she believed in her ideas, maybe even if they made no sense to anyone but her, and for now she would stick by them.

He listens, thinks it over, and then, maybe predictably, he's following after her. How the tables had turned. "I always fight, Jackie. I wouldn't be here if I didn't." She's walking backwards, he's taller than her; it wouldn't take him long to catch up to her, though he does stay a couple of paces off. For her own good, for his. "Worth it because I'm going to be able to get home to Adam? I was already fighting for that. Nothing changed there." He can't ask if there's something else he's fighting for too, can't get the words out, doesn't know if he wants to know the answer anyway.

Maybe it wasn't all that predictable, because Jackie's brows rose in mild surprise to see him walking after her. Her steps continued backwards until her back was bumping into the passenger side door of her red truck. She takes a supported lean back on the truck, tipping her head to rest against the window and give herself just a moment to close her eyes. She was exhausted in every sense of the word after the weekend she had and this crushing in around her. She was reaching the point where she couldn't breathe.

"So yer a fighter, Ben. Then what's the talk of fallin' off the wagon and blowin' off therapy? It shouldn't matter a damn if I'm with yah or not. Yah got a fightin' spirit, so prove it." Eyes opened and her head tipped downward once again to look at him. "All this talka fightin' an' I can't do it no more tahnight, Ben. Please. Yah don't want me tah call yah or text yah? I won't. But take the night tah clear yer head, think 'bout what I said, an' call me if yah wanna talk."

When she's backed up against her truck, he doesn't stop right away; when she opens her eyes, he'll be standing right in front of her, closer than he should be. He doesn't answer her questions, doesn't respond to the first things she says -- maybe she's too young, maybe she just doesn't understand. Either way, it won't help anything to explain, so he doesn't. The answer isn't fair to her anyway. "No, I do want you to. And that's the problem, isn't it? We're back where we started." He's reaching for her hand, and if she lets him take it, he's pulling a little, trying to coax her into one last hug.

There's a hitch in her breath with him standing right there. She wasn't expecting it and she's too worn to control herself. Her gaze meets his, she's searching his face for something, any sort of understanding. She can't read a thing. But his hand is wrapping itself around hers and she's being drawn in for that hug. Her free arm is sliding itself around his torso, her head turning so she can rest her head against his chest. "There are a lot of wise sayin's I always hear floatin' 'round, 'bout the people who do the same thangs over an' over again then get surprised when they get the same results."

As soon as she's in close, he lets go of her hand and wraps his arms tightly around her. His face is buried in her hair, and he's quiet for a long moment, even though she's said something. Just trying to memorize this moment, the feel of her in his arms, for when he needs it in the days -- weeks, months -- to come. "Sorry I fought, said the things I did," a little muffled, since his face is still hidden. "I just-- I care a lot about you. A lot, a lot. And it's hard to let that go so soon." One last deep inhale, breathing her in, and then he's letting it out in a sigh, releasing her, stepping back.

She realized quickly it wasn't the time for talking. With her hand free she's enveloping him in that hug around his torso and keeping her face buried against his chest. It would be so easy right now to say nevermind. To call it a bad decision and stay like this with him tonight, tomorrow, for as long as she wanted. But she had to believe in what she said. She refused to continue to be the sort of person who could pass out advice and not take any of her own. "Don't apologize. I just hope yah realize sooner than later how much I care fer yah too, sweetheart."

When he lets her go and he's stepping back, there's an obvious moment when she doesn't seem to know what to do with herself. She's left fidgeting with her truck keys before giving a slow nod. "If yah need tah talk. If yah need help." She didn't need to finish it off, she said it enough throughout the night. It was slow going at first but once the motion started it continued on. Jackie moving around the truck, pulling her door open, and sliding into the driver's seat. The door was shut behind her, but she took one last look his way before shoving the keys into the ignition.

He can't even think about it, how much she cares -- enough to sacrifice what they could have together for him. It hurts worse than he ever thought a breakup with a girl he has no business being with in the first place could ever hurt. She doesn't need to finish her second statements, but he does. "I'll call. Thank you." For what? Can't think about that either.

He doesn't move when Jackie walks away; he's still standing there when she casts that last look his way as she's starting up the engine. Tries to smile when he catches her eye, one of those familiar little lopsided ones, but it's sad, it's wrecked, and it doesn't last longer than a couple of seconds -- and then he does maybe the only wise thing he's done all night, turning around and heading back inside the house.

She catches sight of the smile but she can't even bring herself to fake one for him. There's a twitch of her lips and that's as far as she gets. She's still watching him as he moves back to the porch, back inside.

The rumble of the truck lingered for much longer than it should have outside of the house. She was lost again, that unfamiliar feeling she hated. The last time she felt lost she had turned to Ben to guide her through. Now here she was with no one to reach for.

Finally, the truck was in motion. Moving down the driveway, stopping at the end in hesitation, then it was easing out into the night.