Title from Miranda Lambert's 'Holding On to You.' The lyrics seem so perfect for these two!

There will be 5 parts to this story, with different 'what if' scenarios based on episodes. Rated T for later chapters.

For this first chapter, I just wondered what would have happened if Rayna had answered Deacon's call from jail in Season 1?

Part 1

Rayna woke with a start at the sound of her phone. Piercing the silence, its shrill tone brought her suddenly into consciousness and she prised open her eyes to check the caller ID. As it showed 'unknown caller,' she took a moment to check the clock and the late, or rather early, hour caused a sense of panic to begin its rumbling. Half out of dread, Rayna held her breath for a second before answering the call.

"Hello?" came her greeting, laden with sleep.

"I have a collect call from - " Rayna's breath hitched as she guessed what was coming. The West Nashville Detention Facility automated had always stirred a wave of nausea in her stomach. Images from years ago flashed through her mind. Deacon drinking. Deacon shouting. Deacon fighting, crying, begging for forgiveness. Rayna regretted their conversation at Teddy's event, recalling the same lost look in his eyes that she never could say no to. Of course, years ago, not being able to say no ended in tangled limbs and sweaty sheets. Now it meant them both walking away hurting. Her to a husband she no longer loved and him to an empty bed, or so Rayna hoped. One thing they hadn't been able to change was their inability to let each other go. 12 years apart and Rayna could still feel his lips on hers, his arms around her begging for another chance. Deacon could hold her soul captive with one look and she knew it. And she hated him for it. And she hated herself for not being strong enough to move on. It had been so much easier to fight with him when tequila and scotch could be blamed. But this? This hurt, this distance between them. Rayna didn't have any coping strategies for this, and she didn't have the soothing balm of precious moments that came in the middle of the night, when their bodies were finally exhausted and Deacon was whispering his love for her over and over, close behind her, breathy and deep in her ear. Now, Rayna was in a world of confusion and felt like she was drowning with no one to save her. The automated voice broke into her thoughts.

"Press 1 to accept or 2 to decline."

Rayna paused, thumb poised above the screen. Going anywhere at this time of night was bound to cause an almighty marital row with the stranger sleeping next to her. But this was Deacon. Her Deacon, but not really hers. The fact that he hadn't been hers now for over 12 years now was immaterial. Eveyone knew that even when Rayna and Deacon weren't together, they still were. There was that connection, and although shrouded in pain, anger and sadness, it was anchored by happiness, love and a hope against hope, a subconscious feeling that eventually somehow, it would be the two of them together for better or worse.

Rayna was already half way to the ensuite by the time she reached down to press the button. She heard Teddy stirring but closed the door behind her anyway. "Hello?" she whispered, not really sure how else to start.

"Ray," then silence. It would seem that Deacon didn't know how to begin either. "I'm sorry to call you. I didn't want it to be you, but…..I need you."

Rayna sighed as she held the tears at bay. She was mad as hell, but concern was the overriding feeling. Letting out a shaky breath, she sent up a silent prayer that 150 months of sobriety hadn't been thrown away on a stupid argument. Rayna counted the weeks and months too. She knew it would kill Deacon to lose that, would break both of 'd had worse rows over the years, but this had felt different somehow, more personal, and none of the others had ended with Deacon in jail. Not since he'd been sober. Rayna couldn't stand for her actions and words to be part of the cause, as she'd felt it was so many times before, in spite of Deacon's reassurance that she was the best thing in his life, not the root of the problem.

"I'm on my way."

Deacon sighed as he heard the click of Rayna hanging up the phone. His forehead hit the cold stone wall with more force that he had planned, but he wasn't sorry. He'd have smashed his own skull in right there if the guard hadn't laid a firm hand on his shoulder to lead him back to the cell.

Bail him out. Rescue him. Save him from himself. Take him back.

All things he'd asked Rayna to do in the past. They'd both thought the days of her dragging his sorry ass out of jail were over. Deacon's heart sank into his stomach as the wave of disappointment washed over him. He only had himself to blame. He should have let Rayna go years ago, moved away and started over. Hell, there were other places to play in bars and make other people's records. The thing that was keeping him in Nashville has never seemed so far away before, so dirty and ruined and stamped on. Rayna had always been in his life because he wanted her to be, and she didn't seem to want to let him go either - although he always wondered whether that was so she could keep an eye on him. Thinking about her as anything other than a musician who knew what she wanted and a concerned friend, was too tempting for Deacon. Thinking about her as anything other than a devoted mother and loving wife took his mind back to the bed of a dirty pickup truck, a tiny bathroom stall in a dive bar, their first couch. Thinking about her without the distance between them that was so present now, meant thinking about her lying naked in his arms whilst she called out her love for him with a few other, less romantic, more passionate sentiments. It was all or nothing with the two of them and it had been nothing for far too long. Deacon so badly wanted that to change, still after all these years, and he'd been dreaming of their could've-been life for years, but here he was, calling her from a jail cell at 3am instead of making love to her in arena dressing rooms while their babies slept at home.

"Claybourne," barked the guard, an hour or so later, pulling the cell door open. Deacon looked up and started towards the front desk, following the guard. Rayna was waiting, her hair pulled up into a ponytail, baggy jumper hiding a t-shirt from years ago. He couldn't meet her eyes whilst he collected his belt, wallet, keys, cellphone. She wrapped her arms around herself and he felt her eyes looking him over. It was a routine he wished didn't feel so familiar. She was checking for injuries, trying to figure out if it had been a fight, a fall, a crash. Her eyes settled on his knuckles and she bit the inside of her lip, frowning and turning on her heel to head to the SUV she had pulled up on. He trailed behind her, not wanting a ride, but just knowing that he owed her an explanation.

"Ray-"

"Get in the car Deacon," he looked up at the angry tone in her voice, which quavered as she tried to keep it in check. As their eyes finally met, he was saddened to see the exhaustion in her eyes. Part frustration, part hurt and large parts just plain tired.

Rayna spotted the moment Deacon turned into a sad schoolboy, disappointed in himself and terrified of what was coming. They both knew in that moment that the next few hours would be one of those page turn moments in their relationship and a strange sense of foreboding and yet relief washed over Rayna. She needed them to move forwards. Or backwards. Anywhere. She was just so tired of treading water. Being married to a man like Teddy was tiring. He was a good man, a respected man and a good father. She couldn't hate him and shouldn't resent him after all he had done for their family. It wasn't really him she resented, but the life she was living. A heavy weight made itself at home just between her lungs every morning as she woke, still married to a man she no longer loved. She wanted to, God knows it would be easier, but with every day that passed, she realised she had been a fool to think that having Deacon around would be anything other than torture, reminding her of the love she wished she could allow herself to surrender to.

They rode in silence until Deacon realised that Rayna had missed into East Nashville and had them instead on the road out of town.

"Ray?"

She stared straight ahead, not ready to start talking, but firm enough in her gaze to let Deacon know that she damn well knew what she was doing and wouldn't be talked out of it. Deacon sat back in his seat, adjusted his belt and settled in for the short journey to the cabin.

Deacon went ahead and opened up the cabin door whilst Rayna threw a couple of things in her bag and locked up the car. She laid her bag down on the couch whilst he got a fire started. He made coffee whilst she found a blanket to cover herself in. A strange sense of routine surrounded them, as if it hadn't been 12 years since they were here together. Rayna took a moment whilst Deacon turned on the lamp to take in the pictures on the walls, the feel of the rug beneath her bare feet, the smell of smoke from the fire mixed with the fresh hot coffee. As she blinked her eyes she could have sworn it was 1995 and they had escaped to the cabin to write songs and spend their evenings not writing a single note or lyric. As Deacon sat down beside her, Rayna forced herself out of memories and dragged her mind back to the far less attractive prospect of the present day.

She let out the breath she had been holding. Deacon could've sworn she had been holding it the whole way from the jail.

"Do we need to call Coleman?" Deacon flinched at the mention of his sponsor's name. Of course. He mentally kicked himself. Of course, she needed to hear him reassure her that 150 months of sobriety hadn't been thrown away so carelessly. He would have been offended at her loss of faith in him if he didn't feel like it was justified.

"No. God Rayna, I swear to you, I never even thought about drinking tonight." For the first time in while, Deacon saw no anger or frustration in Rayna's eyes as she met his gaze; only relief and pain. All kinds of pain. In that moment he wasn't sure whether the pain was fresh from this evening, or just Rayna's default setting whenever she was around him. He hoped to God not the latter, because his heart was already in pieces at the very idea of making her hurt again. "Some jackass at The Bluebird was making smart comments during my set, about you and me and me being nothing but a sideshow. I just lost it in the parking lot is all. I'm sorry."

The tears started to run down Rayna's cheeks before she could even summon the energy to stop them. It felt so good to breathe again without the worry of that weighing down on her chest. She gasped in between sobs, greedily taking in all the air possible. She didn't stop Deacon as he gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her hair. Deacon cried too, silently, whilst her sobs tore through the silence. He rested back against the couch cushions and let her grasp onto his shirt. Of course he wished it was in different circumstances, but God it felt good to hold her again. In a twisted way, this 'all,' this painful, desperate embrace was always going to be better than the 'nothing' little one arm hugs, cursory pecks on the cheek they had exchanged over the years, under the watchful eye of Teddy, Lamar, Tandy, Coleman, Bucky, all of their caretakers, saving them from themselves. The cabin was just Rayna and Deacon, with her mascara in streaks and his calloused thumbs wiping them away, tilting her face up to his as her cries grew quieter. Rayna brought her hands up to run them his hair and they sat for a while, foreheads touching, breath mingling.

The fight against natural urges was hard for both of them. But Rayna wasn't a cheater, and nor was Deacon. Whilst Teddy was at home sleeping in their bed, both singer and guitar player knew that there was no way their problems were getting solved in the bedroom. So Rayna reluctantly extracted herself from his arms and gathered her things.

"I brought you here to talk, but honestly Deacon, I don't think I know what to say. I'm exhausted. My marriage is falling apart and I'm realising that I don't even really want it to be rescued. But I feel like I have to, for the sake of the girls."

Deacon rose from the couch too now, joining her as she moved through the cabin towards the door. Sensing she needed to talk, he stayed quiet, a habit he wished he could break. He'd give anything just to grab her, kiss her, tell her everything would be ok, that they didn't need anybody else and call a cab to bring her girls up here right away. He'd keep them all safe in the cabin, away from the world and all its cameras, away from any bright lights. The firelight would do just fine, just like he'd written on that napkin a whole lifetime ago.

"I wanna do right by you Deacon. I just don't think I can do that yet, and I don't think I can do it with you so close by. I've loved you since I was sixteen years old. I don't know how to be without you, but I feel like I need to find out. Can you understand that?"

"I don't want to Ray, but yeh - I think…I know I want to stop you from hurting, to take that look out of your eyes. One day, hope it's not too far from now, I want you to be able to come up here without the pain in your eyes, and see it how you did the first time I brought you here. I want you to look at me that way too. Like I'm brand new. Before Vince, before the drinking, back when you and me were the only two people in the world."

Rayna took his hands in hers and pressed them against her heart, crying again softly whilst he continued.

"Baby, I want you more than you can imagine, but you're right. We need to this right this time. It's been too damn complicated and too hard for too long. I wanna start again with you."

"I'm not sure that's possible Deacon. And I'm not sure I want that. Deacon Claybourne -" She took his face in her hands, "you are still the man I wanted the first time I laid eyes on you playing that guitar, I know it's you. But we've lost our way, both of us, and we need to find it again by ourselves. I believe that you're the same man you said you always wanted to be. I believe in you babe," with that, she took a risk and touched her lips softly to his. They lingered there for a little longer than she had planned and she felt Deacon's hand at her waist, pressing her more firmly into him. She was too busy savouring the taste of him after all this time to move away from him in that very second, so they stayed connected a moment longer. As she finally broke away, she looked into his eyes for a second, taking what she needed, the reassurance that he would be ok, that they would be ok. Then, without words, she turned and left him standing in the doorway as the sun started to rise, looking on as she drove away.

By the time Scarlett came to collect him the next day, Deacon had slept better than he had in weeks. The blanket smelt of her and just her presence in the cabin had given the place a new scent, a different energy. They were moving forwards and for the time being, apart, but it felt like the right thing right now. He knew he needed to move past their history to be able to even contemplate being the man he needed to be for himself, before he could maybe one day be the man she needed him to be.