Rating: PG-13
Summary: Laura Bristow's had a bad day . . .
Spoilers: "The Confession"
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The song belongs to Fuel, and Jack, Sydney, and Laura belong to JJ Abrams and ABC.
A/N: This just sort of came to me while I was sitting in class . . .
Had a bad day again
She said I would not understand
She left a note and said, "I'm sorry I
had a bad day again"
And she swears there's nothing wrong
I hear her playing that same old song
She puts me off and puts me on
~ Fuel,
"Bad Day"
Jack Bristow turned his key in the door, and once it was unlocked, he opened it and stepped inside his house. The lights were off and his daughter's playpen was sitting empty. He leaned out to look at the driveway. Laura's car was still there. She was home.
"Laura? Honey, are you okay?" Jack called as he made his way down the hall. He paused outside his daughter's door before opening it. The toddler was playing quietly on the floor with her teddy bear.
"Dada," Sydney said, getting up and walking over to her father. Shyly she took his hand and looked up at him. "Mommy sleeping," the two-year old said simply.
Jack couldn't let it show on his face, but he knew what was really going on. Laura was having one of her bad days. They happened every so often. She would come home from her morning's activities and, leaving Sydney in her room, would go sit in their bedroom with the shades drawn and a glass of vodka in her hand. Jack sighed.
"Mommy gets tired and needs naps just like you do," he told his daughter, trying to reassure both of them. He ruffled his daughter's hair and kissed her on her cheek before leaving her with Mr. Bearly, her favorite toy. He'd bought that bear for her in Germany after getting a call from Laura saying she was pregnant. His first fatherly act was to buy Sydney that bear.
Jack walked down the hall to the room he shared with his wife. He opened the door, only to find the room dark, curtains drawn, and the bed rumpled. He didn't see Laura at all.
"Laura?" he called, hoping she was somewhere in the room and not in the bathroom like last time. Jack shuddered at the memory. Sydney had been only a few months old and he'd come home to find Laura on the bathroom floor, looking like hell. She was bruised and there was a gash along one forearm. Laura swore that she'd just been careless with a broken glass, but Jack couldn't shake the dreadful feeling that she'd tried to commit suicide.
"Down here," came the reply from the other side of the bed. She was sitting on the floor with her back to the bed, a glass of vodka in her hand. Jack knelt next to her and took the glass from her fingers.
"What happened?" he asked patiently. Laura thought he was being patronizing.
"I had a bad morning, Jack, that's all." She turned her red-rimmed eyes to him. They were glassy with tears and alcohol. Jack wondered if she might be an alcoholic deep down. "How is Sydney?" Laura asked.
"Sydney." Jack's voice was tight. "She's in her room, playing with her teddy bear. Damnit, Laura, you're in here drinking and she's left to fend for herself," he felt his voice get dangerously close to yelling. Laura winced. "You need help," he said more quietly.
"Don't tell me what I need . . ." her voice was slurring with alcohol, "You aren't here enough to know."
Jack held himself together just barely. When Laura got like this she could be nasty. She knew exactly how to get to him. "Do you doubt me that much?"
Laura shook her head and sighed. She closed her eyes and leaned against Jack. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Jack stroked her hair and murmured something comforting, but Laura wasn't listening. She was still apologizing to the man she had assassinated this morning, to him and to his son, Michael.