Title: Love 'Till You Hate (1/?)
Rating: T
Pairing: Justin/Rebecca
Summary: When Rebecca decided to visit her father David, she couldn't foresee the change she would be swept up in. Justin's step back, her extended stay with her father, and the reappearance of an ex-girlfriend, all of which tears a fabric once thought unbreakable--her bond with Justin.
Note: Spoilers for entire series. Everything is else is of my brain's conjecture. At most, this shouldn't run more than five chapters. This first chapter is mostly a prologue, a set-up for the fic itself. Enjoy.

Thursday.

She flew out on her own one Thursday morning, with big brown eyes boring into her. Sad, but accepting. Understanding, but still swearing that there had to be another way. There was, but not really.

David was her father, and the fact that he was supposed to be her dad but never was, was not exactly David's fault. It was her mother's for making biased assumptions. Her mother could not deter her from piecing together the fragments of a scattered identity, even more so when it became clear that at any moment, life can crush you down. As it did with David, when a car made a sharp left turn and slammed right into him, breaking his bones, making him comatose for two weeks.

Justin, he offered to accompany her, but she denied him this.

"You still need your family, Justin. It hasn't even been a year since you've been sober, and the first year you need your loved ones--your family."

Even Nora complied.

"She's a big girl, Justin. She can take care of herself, and she'll come back. Won't you, Rebecca?"

That voice, that sweet motherly voice that Rebecca had missed all her life and grown attached to the moment she met Nora…she couldn't quite recall it anymore.

"Of course I'm coming back."

She had chuckled, because the notion of not returning was ridiculous.

Then she got to know her father, who helped her with her photography, and who in turn she helped with rent and utilities. Every day she juggled two phone calls, one to Justin, another with Nora who would miraculously conjure up a five-way call.

Somewhere in between the hecticness, she began calling David dad, and somewhere along that same time, she forgot to dial either number of the Walkers.

The pattern went broken, and relationships tumble that way. When priorities are set forth and time is constrained, you have to make choices, but because everything is so scrambled, sometimes emotion or logic is forgotten and wrong choices are made without both senses coming into play.

Strange, because patterns can be so ill-fitting as well, but Rebecca came to see it was because there was nothing there. Physical contact didn't exist--it never does with a long distance relationship. Unless you're unfaithful and pretending the person with whom you're having an 'affair' is the one too many miles away. It's torture both ways, especially if you're a cheater with a conscious.

But she wasn't cheating, and she knew he wasn't cheating, and when they did manage to chat they were content to hear each other's voice. Content. Just content.

"It's been five months, Becca. I'd come down there, but my boss already hates me enough…I should probably just quit."

The first line he said with that sad voice, softly and a bit of pleading resounds through her phone. The second line, he said lightheartedly, trying for the issue not to sound too serious. It partly wasn't, and it partly was. Five months compared to the four months they were dating before she left--it was not healthy.

"Why don't you come home already, Rebecca?"

He petitioned again, and then her dad poked her to show her his latest drawing. He had drawn her standing in the kitchen, in front of the stove. The colors softly drawn on the blouse she's wearing in the drawing indicated what he drew--the day he came down with a cold, so she made him some hot chocolate as he made some idiotic joke.

She smiled, appreciative to her dad, and turned around. With a whisper, she said," I will Justin, just not yet."

Then, seven weeks later, Kevin called to tell her that he has been cheating, and guilt rang through her system. It was the addiction again, but this time, alcohol.

"Okay, I'm going," she stated.

"It's best you don't, at least not yet. He's not thinking clear, Rebecca, and he's blaming you."

"Oh, God," she pressed her hand to her forehead," oh God, it's all my fault."

"No!" he yelled into the phone. "This is not your fault, so don't go there or mom is not going to be happy."

Afterwards, things got really muddy. Afraid to interrupt the Walkers process of helping Justin, she did not call. Nora attempted calling two weeks later, and she told her that he was rehabilitating nicely again.

"He's calmed down, and we have the counselor coming down twice a week to talk to him. And he really wants to talk to you, Rebecca."

Speaking to Justin again sounded nice, but she felt it may be awkward.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I can--"

And then on Nora's end she heard her chuckle to someone else--"Oh, Tyler, are you leaving already?!"

Tyler.

Rebecca hung in there until Nora came back.

"So you'll call him?"

Rebecca was not very prudent in that moment, and she questioned, "Tyler?"

The pause was noticeable, and even Nora knew things wouldn't be quite the same.

"Yes, Tyler."

So she never called Justin, although he did several times, and a few times he left her voice messages.

"Rebecca, Tyler's only here because she heard about the alcohol and wanted to help out. I swear, that's it."

But she only hears the message when her phone company retrieves that voicemail and a dozen others, three months after it's been broken. Would've gone quicker if she had more money, but the ifs were useless. She knew this, and hence decided to act. But she hadn't seen Justin in a year, hadn't heard from him in five months.

Things change.

She realizes this when she makes her way through the Walker household, careful not to make a noise, because she wants to surprise them.

The only thing she hears is the noise of the television blaring through the speakers from the living room.

Justin.

He's her first thought, and a smile spreads over her face at the thought of seeing him again. But the sight is unwelcome.

He's strewn out on the couch, fast asleep, with the woman he had told her of when they thought they were both Walkers, the woman whom she had seen pictures of and right then recognized--Tyler, who laid in his arms, asleep as well.

She could be misreading the situation. They could've fallen asleep on the couch watching TV, just an accident really.

But there's a blanket covering them, his arms are enclosed around her with her hands gripping his and their legs are all jumbled up together. And the credits to P.S. I Love You are rolling (she has the film and even the credits committed to heart--she had forced Justin to watch it with her several times).

It's too much and she backs away just as quietly as she entered, leaves all the way back to where her father is.

No one would know of her ever brief visit. And she wouldn't be there for another year.

Reviews are more than welcome (hint, hint)