Alright, so this is my first MD-fic, it's just Stevie's thoughts and feelings the night after Alex married Fiona. Turned out kinda angsty, but finally, that's what I usually write. And that's how I think one would feel after seeing their love marry a stupid cow like F. (sorry, just don't like her)

Has been reposted with hopefully less spelling errors and less swearwords...thanks a lot for your reviews!

Cheers, Kassandra

Defeat

The pitter-patter of rain against the windows seems to be the only sound that's left in the world. I don't know for how many hours I've been staring at the traces of raindrops on the glass.

It doesn't matter anyway. Everyone's in bed, sleeping peacefully, so there'll be no-one to catch me in here, sitting hunched over the kitchen table, with my head in my hands. The very picture of defeat.

Somehow, this seems to be just my destined position. Defeat. It always ends like this. Defeat. I don't know why I even bother to try any more.Why can't I just accept that this is the only possible outcome of everything I ever attempt. It doesn't matter if I want things to be different. Just my old, fucked up life, so no big deal if I can't stand it.

I mean, I can't even blame him for marrying that girl, Fiona. A happy, carefree life with a girl from the city or a life with a gypsy not even good enough for her own family. Guess what any sane person would choose. Like I said: Can't blame him. And somehow that makes it even worse.

It doesn't matter who he married, it only matters that it could never have been me. What have I been thinking anyway, wanting to tell him about my feelings. That would have been quite a disaster, goodness gracious! Pouring my heart out to him only to be told that I must have lost my mind to even consider the possibilty that he might feel alike. Well, he would have put it in kinder words, of course, but the message would have been quite the same. By now I should know that for me, there's nobody to belong to. Nobody to hold on to. Nobody.

Sighing, I let my head drop onto the cold, clean surface of the table, still looking at the window. It feels like if lose sight of this window, the walls will start to close in around me. I can't breathe; I'm choking on thick, black despair. Suffocating from my very own thoughts.

God, what a mess I am. Just look at me now, eyes red from tears that have yet to be shed, my lips a thin line from trying to hold back a scream and my hair all messy from running my hands through it. Like I said: No wonder you chose her. I mean, what have I got to offer, really? A locked up heart, a blackened soul and a frightened mind. And what a great wife I'd be! Constantly having to fight with my own mind to trust my husband, to trust in us. Constantly running from my emotions, from my problems, hell, from my whole life! I should be happy for you that you avoided a marriage like that. I should be happy that you didn't burden yourself with me. You, of all people, deserve better.

So why does it feel like someone just cut a deep, gaping hole in my chest, leaving me empty and in a pain so all-encompassing that it seems to rip to shreds every moment of joy that ever lodged itself in my memory? Making me wonder if they were merely a product of my imagination, designed to keep me stumbling on through this hellhole of a life, right into the next trap.

You have no idea what I'd give to be somebody else right now. Someone who has absolutely nothing to do with Stevie Hall, who doesn't know anything about this woman and her past. Somebody, free to start a new life.

Oh come on, you fucked up your life all by yourself, you don't get to be complaining now! If you had gotten your act together, none of this would ever have happened, you idiot.

Suddenly there's a bitter laugh shattering the silence of the room. For a moment it startles me, because it sounds like nothing I could ever imagine my own vocal chords to produce. It sounds hollow and hopeless. And more than just a little disdainful. It makes me shudder, right from the top of my head down to my toes.

But that nagging little voice in the back of my head is right. It's my own fault I am in the situation I'm in. Self-loathing is burning its hot, vehement path right into my heart and it's taking me all of my self-control not to hit my head against the hard, wooden surface under my cheek until I know no more. But I can't wake up the rest of the household. They deserve their sleep and have enough to do as it is, without having to pull yet another comforting-session for Stevie Hall, who just can't seem to hold it together.

I guess Tess was right in the beginning, when she wanted to throw me off of the property. I'm only causing trouble.

Suddenly I find myself wishing for a full-blown storm, with lightening and thunder to go out and disappear in. Instead the gentle rain continues to pour down in its steady, soothing rhythm, almost sending me into a fit of rage again.

I wonder what you'd think if I got missing tonight. Would you be searching for me? Or just say,,She'll come around eventually''? Gosh, I'm a selfish bitch to even think about that. Of course I wouldn't do anything to spoil your honeymoon. And having to worry for a missing friend, and one with a tendency to get herself into trouble as well, that would be quite spoiling the fun, wouldn't it? But maybe you wouldn't be worrying all that much, anyway. I mean, with your wife beside you, just having gotten married…I'm sure she would find a way to distract you. I'm sure there would be other things on your mind.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips and hangs in the air for a few seconds, before silence takes over again. My life is a collection of silences when there should have been talks and of talks when silence would have been the better option.

I wish I had the strength to just accept the way things are. I wish I had the strength to smile and be happy for you. But above everything else I wish I had had enough strength to prevent things from ever getting this far. And I wish I could just walk away now.

Oh my, running again, aren't we? You're such a coward! Can't you just look at the people around you for once, instead of only ever focussing on yourself? They need you here, for God's sake! You can't just take off like that, after you've been given responsibilty. But no, Stevie Hall has managed to get herself into yet another crisis and does what she does best: Forget about everyone beside herself and take the easy way out.

,,Shut up! Shut the fuck up!''

The cry is no more than a whisper, still the intensity of it should have been enough to shake awake every living creature in a 10-kilometer-range. Despair, or raw pain don't even begin to describe the emotions tumbling over each other in the short sentence.

I bury my head in the crook of my elbows, losing sight of the window and not even caring about it. So what if the walls start to crush me? What do I care? Maybe it's better this way. I taste something salty on my lips and it's only when I bring the palms of my hands to my cheek that I realise it's from my own tears.

Great. And now I'm crying. Sobbing like some 13-year-old teenager who just got her heart broken. Gosh, I so hope that I'm waking up nobody. This would just be the icing on the cake, having three confused girls fussing over me while I try to get my emotions back in check. Just what I need now. And guess what, I think I hear movement upstairs. For a moment, I'm holding my breath, trying my best to suppress the sobs. Please, go back to sleep. Don't come down. Please!

Panic is gripping me, making me lose every train of thought except for one. I can't have them see me like this. This crying, broken woman is not who I want them to see in me. Don't come down. Don't…

I'm listening hard for any sounds, but the only thing I can hear is the blood drumming in my ears. There could be an army standing right behind me and I probably wouldn't hear them anyway. After a minute has passed without anyone grabbing my shoulders I slowly start to relax. But I know it was a close call.

See, I can't even do that right. Can't even be quiet enough not to wake the hard-working people upstairs who have come to mean so much to me. But because of that I have to be honest with myself all the more and try not to deny the fact that in truth, they'd be better off without me. Hell, everyone would be better off without me. Perhaps I should just do them the favor and go now. But I can't, because I promised. I know it sounds lame, but I promised that I'd take care of Drover's Run. And I want to be damned if I break that promise. So there's truly no escaping.

Tomorrow I'll sit at this very table and try to act like nothing ever happened. Like this night was just some sort of crazy imagination. Like I don't feel the urge to run in every fibre of my body.

And eventually, I'll have to face you again. Dread is seizing me. I don't know how to bear this, Alex. I honestly don't know. I wish I did, but when have wishes ever come true. I just know I haven't got the strength in me to look into your eyes and listen to your personal fairy tale. I'm happy that you're happy. Or at least I try to be. It's time not to be my selfish self, but the good friend you've been to me, all the time. So no matter how much it breaks my heart, I'll be here, trying to support you and the girls with every ounce of energy I've got left in me. Because it's time to pay you back for all the kindness and faith you always put in me. No matter if misplaced or not. If I'm not destined to be happy, then at least I can do my best to make sure that the people I love are.

Those who still have hope shall be given feathery white wings to fly up into the sky, from where they shall wave down to those burnt by the sun who will never fly again.

The End

Alright, that's it. Love it? Hate it? Just brighten my day and press that cute, little review-button down there!