Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word
This is my fantasy- a short one-shot revision to the resolution of the Deacon/Beverly/Scarlett storyline. I was a bit disappointed in how this played out in episode 4x05, so I wrote my own version. I hope you like it. A big 'thank you' to Rachel Wilder for editing!
It was hard for Rayna to imagine a time when she'd ever felt more tired. Not since the accident had she felt this physically and emotionally drained. Deacon getting sick, Teddy being in jail, the transplant, and now Beverly's death. It was all so...heavy.
Rayna could feel it in her body. That extra cup of coffee she drank every afternoon now never quite did the trick. She still felt slightly off her game and her pace was slower than usual. Bucky tried to make up the slack, but she knew she was still dragging. Still, she was making headway, and signing Marcus Keen was no small coup. She remembered one of Deacon's favorite phrases 'progress not perfection' which brought a smile to her face for a brief moment. 'Oh, Deacon,' she thought to herself, and sighed.
As she walked into the bedroom she shrugged her shoulders at the sight of Deacon, still lying in bed with his back the door, brooding. She had to admit, Deacon's self pity was getting hard to take. She wasn't quite sure how he would get over this. She doubted he would drink, but getting out from under his despair and self loathing- all the same demons as before- was going to be a challenge. Still, she told herself she had to have faith- Beverly's sacrifice couldn't be for nothing and when they decided to be together, Deacon had said he was 'ready' and she believed him. He'd been so brave for so long, she had to believe it was only a matter of time before he would find the light and they would find their way back.
Rayna walked by Deacon, fumbling with her keys, but he didn't move. She put her purse down in the closet and kicked off her shoes, when she heard Deacon calling from the bedroom, "Did the plane get off okay?"
"Yes. And I have to say, it was nice to see Maddie happy." Rayna paused to take off her blouse and jeans. "I'm nervous about her being with the road crew, but I think she's in pretty good hands- Luke runs a tight ship. Anyway, I need to focus on work, you need some more time to process, and this time away for Maddie should be good for her, too. It's all been so much. Cindy said Daphne was welcome to stay with their family for a few days, which is perfect timing."
Rayna threw on her silk nightgown and slowly lay down beside Deacon. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and rubbed his chest, but again, he barely budged.
"Scarlett left a message. She's going to Natchez tomorrow to go through all of Beverley's stuff. The apartment needs to be cleaned out by Monday."
Rayna was a bit surprised by Deacon's continued stubbornness with his niece. She understood Deacon's position and was determined to be there for him, but she couldn't help but feel for Scarlett, who'd made an incredibly difficult decision under the most awful circumstances imaginable. "Don't you think you should go down there and help her? And besides, it might be good for you, too. After my father died, it really helped to through his things. It provided some closure."
Deacon stood up abruptly. "I can't. I can't even be in the same room with her, Rayna. You know that. Don't you get it?" Deacon shouted.
Rayna couldn't hold back anymore. "Baby I'm not sure. I understand where you're coming from, but If I'm honest, I think this has a lot less to do with Scarlett and a lot more to do with you. I wasn't going to mention this, but you need to know that Maddie saw your rampage in Beverly's room last night. She'd gone there to bring you dinner. She wanted to help. We all love you and want to be there for you, but you need to meet us half way. Scarlett, too."
Deacon was shocked. The thought of Maddie witnessing his outburst was a punch to the gut. He felt both embarrassed and worried about how this might affect her. He'd been trying hard to be a good role model for her, to be the kind of father he never had—to make sure she always knew she could count on him. "Damn," he whispered under his breath.
He sat down on the bench at the end of the bed and just stared at the wall until his eyes teared up again. Then he put his head down in his hands and just sat like that for a minute, completely silent. Rayna moved over on the bed to where she was sitting behind Deacon and placed her hand on his back. Finally, deacon rubbed his hands across his face and looked up, as if he had something to confess.
"Sometimes I just don't know how much more I can take, Ray. I try. I've been working so hard to be a good man, to be strong, to do the next right thing, but it all just catches up with me. I wanted to get healthy, I was so grateful to Beverly. I wanted to fix things between us, make her part of the family, make it all right. I just want to know why this had to happen? Why did that happen to me, to us? Why do I always have to be the source of so much pain, again. And why did Scarlett have to give up so quickly? I just needed more time…"
Rayna's heart was breaking, listening to Deacon's anguish. Everything he'd said was true, but she had to believe if they could find hope again, they'd also find a reason for it all. Rayna stood up and moved over to where Deacon could see her.
"Deacon, what if this isn't about you, or us? What if Beverly's passing and saving your life and helping others in need was her shining moment. And don't forget she set things right with you and Scarlett before she died, too. That might never have happened without all of this…mess. Maybe that's the blessing in this tragedy. We're never going to think of her as 'crazy' Beverly anymore, she 's going to be remembered for saving us, for giving you and me a second chance, and for helping all of those people who needed her donations. Maybe this was always about Beverly, and you were just part of God's plan? You need to find a way to move forward."
Bending down, Rayna lovingly placed Deacon's hands in hers. "Babe, I don't know what God's plan is. I don't know why these challenges are placed before us. All I know is we can get through this, and that's the only way we honor Beverly's sacrifice. Holding onto the pain isn't going to bring her back. Blaming Scarlett isn't going to make it all okay."
Despite his agony, Deacon knew Rayna was right. If the program had taught him anything, it was that resentment is almost as insidious as cancer, except at least he could control his resentment -if he wanted to. As he struggled to compose himself, he realized the warmth of Rayna's hands was giving him solace. Finally allowing this woman into his life, opening himself up to her, was the biggest gift he'd ever been given. He'd never really done that before. Yes, they'd loved each other deeply, but the addiction was always a mistress to their intimacy—always distracting them from working through life together. As he composed himself, he couldn't help but wonder how this beautiful woman was still by his side. Despite his weaknesses and his struggles, she was there, still believing in him. When he was in his addiction, he'd never thought he was worthy of her love, but look where they were now.
It might take a long, long time to make peace with this tragedy, but maybe Rayna was right. If they were meant to be despite everything they'd put each other through, then this was meant to be, as well. Maybe this was Beverly's gift, and he just had to accept it, somehow.
Light peaked through his fingers as he wiped away the last tear from his eyes. 'Ray, I just felt like I needed to hold on, as long as I could, like I owed that to Beverly, like I couldn't be the one to let her go because I was the one who caused all this… I"
Rayna just squeezed his hands more tightly, "I know, babe, I know. I understand."
Deacon looked up into Rayna's teary eyes, 'I don't deserve you, baby, but I'm so grateful for you and for the girls.' He pulled Rayna up onto the seat and kissed her hands gently. As their foreheads leaned into each other, Deacon wiped tears from Rayna's face then kissed her cheeks. The sweet, salty wet was a soothing balm to his wound and he desperately needed more. He kissed her forehead delicately, as if her skin would shatter upon his touch, then pushed her hair back behind her ear and kissed the soft spot just below on her neck. His warm breath melted every ounce of tension from her body, and as he whispered softly and repeatedly "I need you so much, baby. I love you so much," Rayna relaxed her arms, leaned back her head, and let herself be consumed by his passion. She needed him, too.
"You're early," Scarlett said, abruptly, not looking up from the pile of clothes she was folding on Beverly's bed.
"Yeah, I got to the airport early and there was an 11 o'clock flight, so I took it." He knew from the tone of her voice, that Scarlett was not happy to see him.
"Frankly, I'm surprised you're here at all. Seems just the idea of me turns yours stomach lately," she continued, her voice cracking. Deacon saw scattered photos next to the clothes on the bed- photos of Scarlett as a child, with Beverly smiling, playing together. This was so hard.
"I put things for you to go through over on that side of the room." Scarlett pointed to a pile of trophies, books, photos and other keepsakes that Beverly had kept from her childhood.
It was hard to be there. Just walking through the door gave Deacon a rush of adrenaline and a knot in his stomach. Sensory overload: old photos, vague memories of previous visits, mostly ending with Deacon slamming the door behind him. He sat down on the floor and started sorting through one of her old yearbooks. It surprised him that there were so many sweet messages on the back pages. It was funny, Deacon never thought of Beverly as having much of a social life, but then this was before most of the trouble set in for Beverly. This was when they still had happy moments together as siblings, in between the chaos at home.
"I tell you, I look through this stuff and wonder how well I really knew Beverly—how well do we really know anyone, I guess?" Deacon watched as Scarlett continued folding clothes. "Hey, maybe you and I could get some coffee somewhere and just talk things over."
Scarlett interrupted, her voice cracking again, and her volume increasing with each word. "Oh, so you want to talk now?" She threw some clothes on the bed and walked over to Deacon, this time in a full-on shout, "Now you want to talk?" Scarlett stood up with a determination that Deacon hadn't witnessed before. Maybe she had inherited some of that Claybourne temper after all.
"You made me feel like the hardest decision of my life was a mistake, Deacon. And you judged me for it. Then you weren't there to say goodbye- you made me do it by myself. You have no idea how horrible that was, how lonely I was. You are a selfish, selfish man, Deacon Claybourne!"
"You're righ…" But Deacon couldn't get a word in edgewise before Scarlett interrupted again.
"Deacon stop talking! I'm so tired of hearing your self pity and your accusations, why don't you…"
Deacon put his hands on Scarlett's arms so he could hold her and look straight into her eyes to be sure she heard him. "Scarlett, I said you're right." Shocked by Deacon's words, Scarlett went silent.
"I guess I would've liked a little more time, but really, deep down I know even if Beverly had lived, she wouldn't be the same Beverly. She would've hated it. You did the right thing, Scarlett. You were so brave and I'm so sorry I wasn't strong enough to be there for you. I hope you'll find a way to forgive me."
Deacon's confession left Scarlett at a complete loss for words. In a way, it was easier to be angry. Now all that was left was pure emotion and all she could do was wrap her arms around him as she began crying uncontrollably. "She's gone, Deacon, she's really gone."
Holding her close, Deacon tried to comfort her. "Yes, she is, darlin'. Yes, she is, and I'm so sorry." Deacon kissed Scarlett on her head and gently led her to the couch to sit down. Still clutching to each other in sadness, they sat there, sharing each other's grief, the kind of pain only family causes and only family understands because it's rooted in blood, in fate. "We'll get through this, Scarlett, and I promise I will be there for you. I won't let you down again."