Paul is warm, and for a few moments his arms feel like a buffer between Beth and all of the bad thoughts in her head. For a few moments, she can almost forget about clones and religious cults and all the bullshit going on at work. But then he stirs, and the barriers come crumbling down. A hand slides up her side, callused skin scraping under the hem of her tank. Anxiety creeps into her chest and spins tension into her muscles, but she doesn't move. It's not that bad. When she turns him away, he leaves; sleeps on the couch, takes care of himself. She wants him to stay. The hand reaches higher to cup a breast, palm too rough against her skin.
"Paul." The word hangs in the air like a cloud of smoke, lingering, suffocating, and his hand stills on her chest. It's not that bad, but it's not what she wants. She wants him holding her in his arms, not fucking her. He breathes a harsh sigh against her neck, and a few moments later, his arm falls away from her body as he rolls away from her.
"What do I have to do, Beth?" he asks, an edge of resentment laced into his voice. Her hands trail after him with a quiet urgency, almost wishing she could take it back. She opens her mouth, but her breath catches in the back of her throat. It's not that bad, but it's too late. He's out of reach.
She watches his back as he leaves. A knot forms in her throat as reality begins to bleed back into her mind. Unsolved cases and paperwork piling up on her desk; Art giving her shit for spending time she doesn't have on side projects. It's not like they're something she can just ignore, even if she wishes she could. She's been stretched so thin, it's a miracle that she hasn't already snapped. Tears prickle at her eyes, and clenching them shut, Beth yanks on the covers. She wraps herself up in them, but they feel thin and hollow, and the spot on the bed next to her is getting cold.
It's not that bad, but this is worse.
Beth hardly gets any sleep all week, tossing and turning all night even when Paul is there.
(He's never really there though; there's no closeness, no intimacy. Sometimes he even leaves just because she can't lie still.)
There are dark circles under her eyes when she turns onto Alison's street on Saturday morning. She pulls up to the curb and doesn't honk the horn; just unlocks the door and waits, like Alison asked her to. "There's no need, I'll be watching," she'd said. Beth cracks her window and cool, crisp air rolls in, opening up her sinuses and easing the ache around her eyes.
True to her word, Alison appears no more than thirty seconds later, shifting her eyes up and down the street before she hurries across the lawn to Beth's car.
"I didn't think you'd want to be seen out in public with me," Beth quips, turning down the radio as the other woman sinks into the passenger seat. As she's pulling the door shut, Alison turns her head like a deer in the headlights, face flushing lightly.
"I-I… this is important!" she says, blinking her eyes with the words. "Donnie doesn't know anything about guns, a-and I need somebody I can trust." Beth feels her chest swell a little at that. She already knew, but it's nice to hear it said out loud.
"Besides, everyone will just think we're sisters," Alison blurts out, and then she blinks, drops her gaze and fidgets with her hands.
"Okay then," Beth says after a moment. "Did you bring your PAL?" Alison nods and pulls the license out of her purse to show her. Beth nods and turns the corner of her mouth up before averting her eyes to the road as she starts the car.
The ride is silent, but not uncomfortably so. Usually Beth can't stand silence. She gets so used to bickering with Art or the police radio in the background that when she gets home there's too much silence. Paul isn't exactly the chatty type, and most of their conversations don't go very far before they fizzle out and die. We're kind of a bad match, aren't we?
But with Alison in the seat next to her, she doesn't mind it. She doesn't even feel the need to turn the radio up again. Alison is bouncing her knee up and down restlessly, but Beth feels almost calm in spite of it. It's a stark contrast to the usual chaos that goes on in her head.
Beth lays her hand on Alison's knee to still its agitation. "Relax," she says. Alison lets out a breath, and Beth can sense a measure of tension dissolving with it.
Beth smiles. It's been a long time since she was the levelheaded one.
Alison buys a Walther P99. With both hands, she holds the case steady in her lap on the way back. Beth is watching her out of the corner of her eye as she drives. Alison keeps glancing over at her, lips parting and sealing, holding back her curiosity.
"What?" Beth asks at a stop light.
Alison gives a start and fumbled words spill out of her mouth. "I-I just, well um, you…" She stops, breathes in to compose herself. "I don't mean to pry," she says evenly, "but you look a little… worn out. Are you doing alright?"
Air catches in Beth's throat. She hadn't been expecting that, and suddenly all those thoughts about work and Paul and Proletheans filter back into her mind.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She missed the beat. Alison says nothing, but her eyes linger. Long enough that Beth glances over to meet them, and the walls start to crack. "I just haven't been sleeping well lately," she concedes.
"Oh." The word is awkward, like Alison doesn't know what to say. Something in her voice spurs Beth on.
"Paul's been gone," she says, and it's not technically true, but it feels close enough. "I've just been feeling a little lonely, I guess."
"Oh," she says again. Beth makes the turn onto Alison's street again and stops in front of her house. Alison collects her purse and her hand pauses on the door handle. "You know, my house is empty until tomorrow night when Donnie and the kids come back from their camping trip," she says, turning back to face Beth. There is a pause and Alison's cheeks redden. "You could stay with me tonight. I mean, if you've been feeling lonely, I could keep you company. And well, if it would help you get some sleep…"
Beth blinks, feeling a flush of color to her own cheeks for the first time in weeks. Would Paul even miss her, she wonders? She misses him, but going home won't fix that. She turns the key in the ignition and the engine dies.
"Lead the way."