Summary: How Hyde may have found out about Jackie's parents abandoning her, and moments following.
Disclaimer: Calm down, copyright maniacs. I don't own a smidgen of anything. Sigh
A/N: I take liberties with the timing, because we all know that the timing on the show makes almost next-to-no sense.
A/N2: The songs featured, in order, are: "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd, "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd, and "Dear Prudence" by The Beatles.
March 4, 1978
11:38 p.m
Forman's Basement
And be a simple kind of man
Oh be something, you love and understand
Baby, be a simple, kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me, son
If you can?
After much trial and error, Hyde finally positioned his bedding just right and was now resting comfortably on his cot in the basement, sunglasses off and beer in hand, just listening to the music. To the outside spectator, he'd appear to be the picture of peace and serenity. Inside, however, his mind was whirring.
Over the past week and a half Hyde had begun to notice that Jackie's behavior was slowly and steadily getting stranger and stranger. Something was definitely up with his girlfriend, and he was pretty sure it was important. His zen was telling him to not care; but a bigger, stronger, and previously unknown part of him absolutely hated that she didn't trust him with whatever it was.
Forget your lust, for the rich man's gold
All that you need, is in your soul
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you my son
Is to be satisfied
Out of the many surfacing oddities in his girlfriend's behavior that were currently floating through his head, it was her refusal to let him drive her home that was currently at the forefront of his mind. She had come up with the weirdest excuses too.
"I need the fresh air."
"The exercise will do wonders for my complexion, Steven."
"I like to walk."
He chuckled at that last one. He knew, without a doubt, that she hated walking. Hell, he'd hate walking too if he had to wear those god-awful pain-inducing shoes she strutted around in all the time. Plus, why walk when you had a spare Lincoln at the ready, right? He exhaled a loud breath in exasperation. If he didn't know her so damn well, he wouldn't be in his current state of confusion and worry.
He could feel the annoyance creeping in at that thought. At the root of it all, that's why they were together. Creepy and unnatural they may be, they fit. Somehow. They understood each other. She could walk into a room and know exactly what he needed without either needing to speak a single word, and truthfully, he thrived on that. That bond with someone. He almost hated thriving on that, though. That feeling of being loved and needed. Of being understood. Gave him more expectations, and Hyde had learned very early on to not expect anything from anyone.
Boy, don't you worry…you'll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied
He took a deep breath and threw back another swig of his stolen beer, reveling in its acrid taste. He closed his eyes and pictured Jackie as she was this afternoon, laughing at one of Fez's jokes. He could barely remember what it was that had them all laughing hysterically, but the image of her in his mind was crystal clear. She was wearing a skirt, a blue one, flimsy. That he was sure of, remembering how he could easily lift it as he ran his hand up and down the smooth skin of her calf. And a white top, kind of creamy colored. It was soft. Her hair was down, remembering how he was able to thread his fingers through it when he grabbed her to kiss her.
Smiling slightly with his eyes still closed, he remembered easily how happy she was when she laughed. There was a light to her, you could see it in her smile. Captivating. Even when they'd hated each other, the light she emanated when she laughed was still able to captivate him.
He remembered the look in her eyes after he kissed her—and with that, he again remembered why he put up with all the other emotional crap and the feelings that came with it—it meant he could be with her. And for now, that was pretty damn awesome.
He was lucky to have her, he knew, and as he finished his beer in one gulp and put his sunglasses back on, he set out to earn the right to have her trust and adoration.
Not willing to risk having Red hear him driving away in the El Camino, he headed towards the Burkhart Mansion by foot. Thankfully, he did like to walk.
26 Minutes Later
The Burkhart Mansion
Leaning over the hedge beside the front door, he felt underneath the window ledge for the crack he had stuck Jackie's house key in. Their previous spot – underneath the doormat – was way too fucking obvious. Anybody could get in. Pulling out the key, he opened the front door and closed it quietly behind him. The house was quiet and dark—something he had expected. Not worrying about either of Jackie's parents since her mom was probably passed out drunk in her bedroom and her dad was in jail, Hyde didn't bother with stealth as he made his way through her house, heading straight towards his girlfriend's room. As he climbed the steps to the second floor where her room was, he heard music floating down the hallway. That wasn't exactly surprising—he knew she liked to have music playing when she slept. What was surprising was what she was playing.
…cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage
It sounded like Pink Floyd. His brow furrowed in confusion as he walked down the hallway, the music steadily growing louder and louder with each step.
How I wish, how I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls swimmin' in a fish bowl
Year after year
Hyde reached Jackie's door and opened it, and even though the room wasn't very bright, he found he still had to adjust to the light since his pupils had already begun to dilate while trekking through the pitch-black house. She had two lamps on, one by her closet and the one next to her bed. Having been in Jackie's room a few times before, he could see she'd moved her record player, pushing it right against to her bed, the music currently coming from it blasting. How the hell is she able to sleep through that?
Runnin' over the same old ground,
And how we found the same old fears
Wish you were here
He ran his hand up and down the wall beside the doorframe, looking for the light switch and turned it on. Judging from the lump in the middle of the bed, Jackie was curled up into a ball under the covers and as Hyde walked towards her, he could hear her singing along to the song. She knows the words?
"Jackie," he tried, to no avail. He grabbed her blanket and pulled it down, now realizing why she couldn't hear him or hadn't noticed he'd turned on the lights. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were covering her ears. They sprang open, however, when he'd pulled down her blanket, and she leapt back from him in fear, a scream escaping her before she focused her gaze and visibly relaxed upon recognizing him.
"Jackie, what the hell is going on? Why are you so scared? And," he shouted over the music, before gesturing towards the record player with a confused look on his face, "blasting Pink Floyd?"
As if suddenly realizing that he was shouting over the music unnecessarily, he reached over her bed and took the needle off the record, cutting the sound off immediately.
Hyde looked back down at the bed and became confused at the still fearful expression on Jackie's face. She obviously was no longer afraid for her life, having realized that he was not a burglar or a rapist, so he couldn't understand why she still looked scared.
Hoping for an explanation, his confusion only grew when she finally did speak up.
"I like that song," she said grumpily.
Completely caught off guard by her answer, he stumbled over his response, "Ye— yeah. It… what? Jackie, what's going on? Why are you sleeping with the lights on? You hate the lights on. And where did you get that record?" He glanced towards the record player, and something caught his eye—a very recognizable album cover lying against the side of it.
What the hell?
As Hyde reached a hand towards what he thought it was – yep, Led Zeppelin III – he saw Jackie briefly widen her eyes in fear of the corner of his eye.
Having gotten over his initial shock, he now held up the record with an amused expression. "Is this mine?"
"Yes," Jackie mumbled, no longer looking at him but still huddled on the bed hugging her unicorn.
"I'd be pissed if I wasn't so impressed. When did you swipe this? I've been looking for it for a couple of weeks now," he said, looking at it fondly. "Hey, do you have my Rolling Stones alb— yup," he said with a nod of his head, grabbing Sticky Fingers from the other side of her player. "Why do you have these?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows. However, as he turned his head to look at her and saw her cowering on the bed with her face in her stuffed unicorn, he abandoned his quest for trivial answers and set the records down, lowering himself gently to sit on the edge of her bed. "Jackie?"
"What are you doing here, Steven?"
Her reply came out muffled, but he was still able to catch the strain in her voice. She, obviously, was not happy that he was here—which confused him.
"Jackie, you've been acting really weird lately. Like earlier when you blew up at Forman for joking about my mom or snapping at Donna just because she complained that Red wasn't accepting the engagement. You're stealing my records and listening to music that you've said you hate about a million times. You won't let me drive you home, spouting out crap about how you need to tone your calves—which I know is a total lie since you hate to… walk…" Hyde trailed off before looking towards the door of her bedroom with narrowed eyes. He immediately stood up and walked out of her bedroom, calling out to her along the way, "Jackie, is there anyone even here?"
She didn't answer, not that he expected her too.
He walked down the hallway to where he knew her parents' room was and opened the door, turning on the light. What he saw caused his eyes to shut in resignation, a sigh escaping his lips. How long was Jackie sleeping here, alone in this big empty house, terrified, before he even realized something was wrong? He flipped the light switch and closed the door, leaving the very tidy and unused room behind.
"Well, now I get why all those parental jokes weren't funny," Hyde quipped as he walked back into her room. "Where the hell is your mom?"
"I don't know."
He stood above her bed and watched as his petite and beautiful girlfriend cowered in her bed from shame. At the sound of her unsuccessful attempt to hide a sniffle, he slipped his coat off and hooked it on her bedpost before reaching down to take off his boots. He then walked around her bed to the other side and lifted open the flap, sliding in behind her and cocooning her in his embrace. "Shh. It's alright, baby. I'm here. Just breathe."
Five minutes later when her tears subsided and her breathing was back under control, Jackie told him how she got a postcard from her mom a few weeks ago telling her that she'd extended her vacation and wouldn't know when she'd be back. It had no return address, just a postage stamp that said Acapulco, so there was no way of knowing where she really was. Throughout her story, Hyde held her close to his body, entwining their legs and stroking her hair, placing light kisses on her neck when she would start tearing up again.
When she finished her story, he stayed entwined with her. And though he kept the more hateful comments to himself, he still let a few choice words slip through—letting her know how shitty her parents were to abandon her. That it wasn't her fault. It helped, he thought, that he knew what she was feeling, but it almost made it even worse, knowing the pain she was going through; the feeling like you aren't even good enough for your own parents. He did what he could to take away that suffering, letting her know that he was there through kisses and whispered words.
Soon, she drifted asleep, the adrenaline and tears having exhausted her. He stayed awake though, just thinking. Thinking about her parents. Thinking about his parents. Thinking about the Formans. About the past few weeks. Especially about the past few weeks. He liked to think that she was just a damn fine actress, but he knew he should have noticed sooner. Fuck.
"They were yours," Jackie said softly.
Not having realized she was awake, so lost in his thoughts, her words startled him.
"The records," she explained. "They were yours. It was your music. I wanted to feel you while I was here, without anybo—" she broke on a sob. Hyde immediately pulled up and hovered over her, using his right hand to grip her chin as he descended upon her, his lips covering hers in a tantalizing kiss, making her realize she wasn't alone. He kissed her long and hard, not letting up until he could feel her enthusiastic response before breaking away and trailing his lips over her cheek and down her jaw until he reached her earlobe, sucking on it lightly as he told her that she wasn't alone. "Your parents are shit, Jackie. You don't deserve to be left alone… and you aren't going to. You're gonna sleep with me from now on, okay? In the basement."
When he felt her tense up and try to decline the offer, he shushed her again. "Don't worry, baby. No one will know, alright? I won't tell anyone. We'll figure something out. Some way to sneak you in every night, but no one will know."
33 Minutes Later
Hyde stood over Jackie's bed, packing up her night bag with the things she'd placed on the bed for him. He'd insisted upon doing it himself after watching her unsuccessfully try to stuff all of her sleepwear and toiletries into her dad's leather duffel bag. Having had experience in packing and whatnot after switching houses repeatedly within the past couple of years, he knew that the only way all of her crap would fit into the medium-sized bag would be to roll her clothes—after convincing her that it wouldn't disastrously wrinkle them, of course.
Jackie walked out of the bathroom with a handful more of make-up and hair products, placing those on the bed as well. She reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Puddin'," she said before reaching around him and grabbing the record off the player and inserting it into its sleeve. She grabbed the other two albums and placed those on the bed as well.
After successfully cramming all of her stuff into the bag, he closed it up as she went to her closet to grab her coat. She walked back out, scarf wrapped around her neck and gloves on to find him standing by the door, bag in hand, waiting for her. She led him through her dark and chilly house and out the front door. He replaced the spare key in the crack beneath the window ledge and together, hand-in-hand, they walked back to the Forman house in the chilly night air in comfortable silence.
Once they'd reached the house, they snuck around the back and quietly entered the basement, not daring to make a single sound. Slowly they walked through the basement and finally drew a relieved breath once Hyde shut the door to his room. She grabbed her dad's leather bag from him and opened it on his cot, taking out only the things she would be using this night before re-zipping the bag and scooting it underneath his cot, pushing it until it hit the wall, making sure it was completely hidden from view. As she went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, Hyde changed into his pj's—a white wife-beater and an old pair of grey sweatpants.
Kneeling in front of his crate of records and putting the three albums back into his collection, he heard the bathroom door open and he turned his head to look at her—shocked at what he saw. She had put her hair up messily into a bun and her face was fresh and clean, free of make-up, buthe thought she never looked more beautiful. And in that moment, as he watched her walk shyly back into his room in a tank-top and pair of shorts, he realized he never wanted her to sleep anywhere else but beside him.
"C'mere," Hyde said, holding out his hand to her.
She slowly walked towards his kneeling form, looking down at him. He reached up a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're beautiful," he said softly, watching her tear up again before leaning down to press a gentle kiss against his lips.
As a thank you for his actions tonight, she let the words she knew he loved to hear more than anything escape from her lips.
"I love you, Puddin' Pop."
March 10, 1978
1:33 a.m.
"Psst. Steven."
"Jackie," Hyde mumbled, his voice muffled from being pressed against his pillow. "Go to sleep. It's late."
Relieved that he was awake, Jackie turned in his arms to face him. "I can't, Steven. I can't sleep. I need you to talk to me."
"Why don't you turn on the music?"
"Because, I'd have to get up and it's cold. You're all nice and warm. Please, Steven? Just a couple of minutes."
"Baby, I'm exhausted. Red had me and Forman out all day cleaning the backyard and the garage."
"Oh, my poor baby," Jackie cooed, reaching her hand up and threading it through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. She watched as his eyes drifted closed and smiled before pressing a gentle kiss against his chin.
"Jackie."
"Hmm?"
Hyde sighed. "Which record do you want me to put on?"
"Oh, baby! Thank you!" She kissed him softly on the lips. "Mmm, something soft. And slow."
"The same as last night?"
"No. Something different."
"Kay," Hyde conceded, stealing another kiss from her before grudgingly leaving the warmth of her body and getting off the cot. He sifted through his collection of albums, trying to find something that she could fall asleep to. He picked one that fit her requirements, and even though it wasn't his favorite band, he loved them all the same—The Beatles: White Album.
Setting the needle to track 2 and hurrying back to the cot, he let Lennon's melodic voice and finger picking fill the basement room as he fit Jackie back between his arms and wrapped his right leg over hers, fitting his foot between her calves and earning himself a very cute and feminine squeal. "Steven!" she laughed. "Stop it. Your foot is frozen!"
Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day
"Shh. You're gonna wake up the Formans."
Jackie continued to giggle as he rubbed his foot up and down her lower leg.
The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful, and so are you
Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?
March 15, 1978
10:23 p.m.
With one clean sock in hand, Hyde looked through the top drawer of his dresser searching for another one. As he opened the second drawer, he heard a light tapping of nails against his door. He crossed the room, sock still in his hand, and opened it to find Jackie on the other side of the door. "Hey," he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the lips. "You get here okay?"
"Yeah," she replied as she walked in and reached under his cot for her bag. "I did have to hide behind some bushes though when Donna took out the trash. She walked right by me. I felt like a pervert," she said, turning to him with a grin.
"Well you can attack me anytime you want, baby," Hyde replied, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her small frame, drawing her too him, silently thankful she was alright.
"I'll keep that in mind, Puddin'," Jackie said as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, covering his hands with hers and encountering a foreign object. She looked down to see whatever the soft object was that he was holding. "Steven, why are you feeling me up with a sock?"
Chuckling lightly and laying a thick kiss on her cheek, he let her go and turned back towards his dresser. "I was trying to find a clean pair of socks. I can't hear you complain about my freezer feet one more night."
Jackie rolled her eyes as she sifted through the contents in her leather bag. "I told you, Steven. You have poor circulation."
"And I told you that I am not going to soak my feet in hot water every night, nor will I massage them like some old-aged pansy."
"Fine," Jackie responded as she reached up to peck him on the lips before disappearing in the bathroom. "Have freezer feet. I don't care."
Hyde, after another minute of searching through the various drawers, finally found another clean sock and sat on his cot, putting them both on. Just as he stood up, Jackie walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of shorts and his Led Zeppelin t-shirt, something she'd taken to wearing to bed a couple of days after her first night in the basement. He hadn't been expecting her to actually wear it, but was relieved that she did—that she liked it.
"What?" Jackie asked, pausing slightly as she entered his room, her head cocked to the side in confusion at the whimsical look on his face.
"Nothing," he said smiling. "Let's just go to bed."
March 18, 1978
1:24 a.m.
Hyde was, by nature, a very light sleeper. Always on his guard, he could jerk awake at the slightest sound, alert and ready for whatever it was that would come. This innate sense allowed him the ability to sense trouble before anyone else, which was something the gang was always thankful for, but it also gave him the ability to hear and know what was happening in his house. His old house. She had thought he was sleeping and therefore could sneak out without him knowing, but Hyde heard every sound that Edna made as she left the house—abandoning him.
It was because of this instinctive ability that caused Hyde to jolt awake when he felt the slightest tremble in his arms—which he soon found out was his crying girlfriend. Ever since that first night, she hadn't cried much. Only a couple of times. She was strong, his Jackie. Stronger than a lot of the other members of the gang gave her credit for.
Around him, however, she let herself become vulnerable. And it was in these moments that he'd begun to know how to console her—through words and comforting touches. She needed to hear from him that it would be okay or else she wouldn't be able to believe it.
He started by tightening his hold on her and reaching down to lightly kiss the nape of her neck, signaling to her that he was awake and he was here for her. She took a deep and calming breath, comforted by the fact that she was no longer alone in her suffering.
"Tell me what's wrong," he said to her softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Needing a couple of seconds to calm her breathing, she took her time in responding to him, something he understood.
"Why don't they love us?"
Hyde squeezed his eyes shut, his heart contracting at the obvious pain he could hear in her voice. He'd love to just strangle the hell out of her parents, if only she'd let him. Assholes, all of them.
"Baby, they do, they're just such assholes that they don't realize it." When she didn't respond, he reached up and grabbed her chin, turning her head to look at him. "Jackie, listen to me. I know that your parents love you, alright? But they can't show it. They don't know how. So you are going to forgive them and then stop worrying about it. It's their fault. Not yours."
He sealed his words off with a kiss, confident she heard him.
"And you're parents?"
He smiled. "They're way too screwed up to realize that they love me, doll."
March 22, 1978
11:53 a.m.
"You look cute in flannel," Hyde said, smirking at his girlfriend.
"Shut up," she replied, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. "It's cold."
"Yeah, no kidding," Hyde said as he pulled a white wife-beater over his head, his grey sweats already on. The fact that they were in the basement already left it a little chilly—the added draft certainly didn't help that. "Music?"
"No. Not tonight."
Jackie turned the lights off while Hyde climbed into bed, scooting over to give her room. She climbed in after him, laying down and facing him, wrapping her arms around him, craving his body heat.
Hyde breathed a deep sigh and wrapped his arms around her as well, pulling her in close.
"That's all I wanted."
"What?"
"The sound of you breathing. That's all I wanted to hear. It's comforting."
Hyde frowned, not sure what to say to that. He tightened his arms around her one more time before relaxing entirely, silently admitting to himself that it was comforting to just lay there with her, hearing her breathing too.
He drifted off to sleep soon after, Jackie following after him.
44 Minutes Later
He jerked awake by the feel of her moving around. Worried that she was crying again, he was about to ask her what's wrong when he realized that her movements were not trembles, but that she was getting out of bed. She was moving very slowly, however, trying to not disturb him—and to little effect.
"Where you goin'?" Hyde mumbled incoherently, still groggy from sleep.
"To the bathroom," Jackie replied, abandoning her slow movements and hopping out of bed. "Eric's cheap, generic soda went straight through me."
"You drank a soda before you went to bed?" he asked incredulously, his eyebrow raised in confusion.
Jackie rolled her eyes. "Be quiet, Steven, and go back to sleep. I'll be right back."
Hyde stretched and repositioned himself so that he was laying on his back, his eyes drifting closed out of pure exhaustion, quickly falling asleep.
2 Minutes Later
"- OW!" Jackie screeched, a long string of curse words following, immediately waking Hyde and setting him on edge.
"Jackie! Be quiet! The Formans!"
"I'm sorry, okay? That moron left his stupid toy out on the floor."
"Wait—Shh!"
She listened intently alongside him, fearful that her outburst woke up the other occupants of the house. Not hearing anything, however, she breathed a sigh of relief and walked back quietly over to the bed, slipping in and laying her head down, reaching around to grab Hyde's hand and wrap it around her.
He nuzzled in to her neck, letting his eyes drift shut once more, praying intently that no one heard her.
Feeling Hyde's racing heart calm behind her, Jackie relaxed as well, confident that they were safe. And just as she was drifting off to sleep…
"Jackie?"
"What the hell?"
"Oh my God!"
"Oh my God!"
…
"Forman, are you naked?"
A/N3: Let me know what you think!