A/N I couldn't sleep, and this is the product of my insomnia. Inspired by the amazing song, "Picture" by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. I had it on repeat while writing. As of right now this is a one shot, but if I get enough reviews I might expand it to something longer!
Disclaimer: I do not own That 70's Show.
1980
He sat on the worn chair in his motel room, smoking. The cigarette in his hand was down to a stub. He inhaled it one more time, and then stabbed it in the ash tray. Hyde got up, stretching. What time it was, what day; it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Not without her in his life. He lived every single day the same. He went to work at Groove's headquarters. He sat in meetings, he did paper work. The local bar became his second home away from home.
The phone on the side table next to the bed rang. Mrs. Foreman had been calling every day. She was determined to get her adopted son back home where he belonged. The only reason she knew the number of where he was staying was because he called her the second day, knowing how she'd worry about him if he didn't. So, he called. Mrs. Foreman cried in relief, and then insisted on him giving her the number.
Red got on the phone when he refused. "Steven if you don't give your mother the number of that motel I'll personally stick my foot through this phone and into your ass…"
Hyde gave it.
He sighed, not wanting to talk. But he picked it up anyways. It was Mrs. Foreman, after all.
"Hello." He said, wincing at how he sounded.
"Steven," A breathy female voice replied from the other end, a voice that had haunted him since it first made its perky tone known in the basement years ago. God he had resented that voice at first, hating how he adored it, adored her.
Jackie Burkhart motivated him every day and he never realized it until he lost her, too many times to count. Dumbass would surely be engraved on his headstone.
Hyde managed to get her back after the nurse. But then he got too comfortable with their relationship. Losing her terrified him, but he never thought he would again. Even after another short lived break up, Hyde knew in his heart Jackie was his. Stupid fights would never change that. When Chicago got brought up, he assumed she would stay.
Have a nice trip.
She left though. He let her.
"Steven, you there?" She sounded hesitant, and sad. He felt worse.
"I'm here," Hyde said. He sat down on the bed. It squeaked beneath his weight. The past few months he had holed up in the motel he had mostly spent drinking, or chain smoking, or he would be so emotionally and mentally tired after work that he would pass out immediately upon changing out of work clothes; the scratchy material of the thin comforter had gone unnoticed. Hyde noticed it then, circling his free hand on the faded yellow pattern.
On the other end of the line, Jackie sat on her plush sofa in the living room. The apartment felt lonely, but she couldn't bring herself to go to the basement. Most days she went to her job, throwing what little energy she contained in to work. Nights were filled with cheap wine and memories that refused to die.
"Are you okay?" She asked, gripping onto the phone tightly. For a second she feared that maybe Steven wasn't alone in that motel room of his.
Jackie heard him sigh deeply before answering.
"I've been better, Jacks."
"Steven, come home then." I miss you so much, she silently added.
"Jackie.." Hyde continued tracing that faded pattern. He wanted to come home, but he didn't know if he could see her again in person just yet.
"I'm sorry for calling. I saw your number written on a piece of paper in the Foreman's kitchen and I couldn't help but copy it down…" She rambled.
"Jackie," Hyde took a deep breath, "I don't mind." I miss you, he thought.
"Oh," she said, but it was filled with relief. "Steven I really want to talk with you, really talk. I think we could both greatly benefit from it." What she didn't say was that she hoped to God they would talk and start over.
"I don't think Fez would like that," Hyde dryly replied.
"Fez?" Jackie scrunched her face. Then she remembered; he had been gone long enough to not realize that she and Fez had ended shortly after New Year's, unless someone had bothered to inform him. Apparently no one, not even Mrs. Foreman, did.
"Fez would be happy if we talked, Steven. You left so suddenly the day after New Year's, and I was so worried, and I'm horrible for this but I broke up with Fez because I cared more about you being okay than I did about him."
This was news for Hyde. He sat up straighter. No one ever said anything, man. Mrs. Foreman would have surely told him. Eric, even Donna, someone would have. Maybe they figured it would be best to let him and Jackie figure it out on their own, or move on and be happy without each other.
"No one told me."
"I realize that now. I kept hoping you'd hear about it, and come back.."
"Jackie.."
"Look, Steven." Jackie reached for the wine bottle on the coffee table, half empty already. She poured herself a fresh helping into her glass. "Please come home. Mrs. Foreman told me that you're working for your dad, and that you're looking for an apartment.."
Hyde listened; it was true he told Mrs. Foreman this. He was working for his dad, but an apartment was just something he said to her so that she could stop fretting about the motel he currently resided in. Besides, the motel didn't come out of his pocket. It came out of W.B's, though he told his son more than once that he would prefer if he found a more suitable home.
"I'm happy that you're doing so well, and in such a short amount of time. I always knew you would be successful Steven. I have always believed in you." Jackie meant this sincerely.
"I know you have, Jacks."
Now or never, Jackie thought. She took a deep breath. "Come home Steven; at least for a visit? I hate that we're living like this, and I think it's a real waste. Because I still love you. Even after Sam," she couldn't help but say that name with distaste, "and how you behaved towards me those awful few months she graced us with her presence, I still love you. I have always loved you. I honestly have tried everything to get you off my mind. You've been gone for five months Steven, and I still think of you all the time and I still love you."
God. There. She said it.
He stayed quiet on his end, mulling it all over. Truth be told, he thought about her too all the time. Hyde drank, and saw her in his mind. He smoked, and remembered how her lips felt, how she felt in his arms; her, her, her. New Year's Eve burned in his memory. Seeing her in Fez's arms sent him emotionally over the edge and he had no one to blame except for himself. Hyde would never admit it to anyone, but he left to avoid that sight again. The first day of the new decade he packed up everything and loaded the El Camino.
He ended up in Milwaukee, in a motel run by an older couple. That very afternoon Hyde showed up at Groove's headquarters. He came back to his room with a job. The thought of Jackie got him to wake up each morning, heading to work. Somewhere in his mind, unacknowledged, he hoped to prove to her that he could be the kind of boyfriend she deserved. Even after all the pain he caused. Steven Hyde wanted redemption, another chance that he knew he had no right to.
"I was thinking about coming for a visit soon." Hyde really wanted to say I love you back, but like always he found that those words escaped him. He promised himself then and there he would find the courage when he came home, because of course he would, he had to, and it was Jackie asking him this time. Not Mrs. Foreman, or Eric, or Donna. Jackie.
Jackie heard it anyways with his response. She smiled, even though she sat alone with only the cast of Dallas on her television.
"So I'll see you soon?" Hope bubbled up, bursting in her heart.
"Yeah," Hyde replied, "You'll see me soon."
They said goodbye, each delicately placing their phone down.
Each thought of the other. Jackie stood up from her sofa, carrying the wine bottle and glass into the kitchen. She dumped both free of the red liquid inside them into the sink.
Hyde stood up from the bed, heading straight to the little closet of the motel room where he kept his old suitcase. He tossed it onto the bed, throwing his clothes in.
He needed to check out, and start the drive back home to Point Place.
To Jackie.