A/N: Whoooo boy, took me long enough, didn't it. Sorry I kept y'all waiting, it's just that I got caught up in writing other fic, lol.
8th April, 2011
The Griffin was filled with the chatter of the late night crowd. Almost every booth was so jam-packed with patrons that the music emanating from the jukebox could barely be heard over the din. Winston, Aly, Schmidt, and Cece were in their favourite booth closest to the bar, talking quite animatedly. After Winston and Aly shared the story of their latest arrest, an idiot who tried to pass off a pound of meth as aquarium rocks, Schmidt and Cece proceeded to tell them the latest escapade of their three-year-old; Baby Ruth had just discovered the pleasures of Nutella and insisted on eating anything and everything with it, much to Schmidt's chagrin.
"Nutella in her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This is how it begins, you guys, and before you know it, the only thing she'll be able to fit into will be 5XL hoodies!" he fretted. "I know I sound like a terrible person. I love her, I do. I'd love her, no matter what, even if she became the size of a small planet, but I've been the fat kid and I never want her to know that the world doesn't love fat kids back. I don't want her to grow up the way I did."
Every half hour or so, Nick would pop by to check if they needed a refill on their drinks and share a few laughs with them before going back to the bar. He wouldn't say much, just listened to their conversation with amusement on his face, and occasionally roll his eyes at some of their bizarre comments.
It was almost a normal Friday night. Almost.
All day, everyone had been giving Nick worried looks, too afraid to ask why he had returned so soon from New Orleans. He clearly did not want to talk about it, but he seemed surprisingly unaffected by his latest breakup since his unexpected arrival that morning at the loft. He'd seemed oddly cheerful when he'd showed up that morning, carrying a number of flattened, disassembled cardboard boxes in tow. Waving away Winston's concerned questions, he'd headed straight to Reagan's room and dumped the cardboard boxes on the floor before heading to his own room.
"We need a new roommate," he'd declared matter-of-factly.
And after that, no matter how many questions were thrown his way, direct or disguised, Nick's word of the day seemed to be "fine." He was fine, or so he claimed.
On one of his nervous pacing sessions outside Nick's room, Winston had heard bits of Nick's phone conversations to Reagan. He had expected begging or crying like after Nick broke up with Caroline, but it was remarkably civil. Too civil. This was the eye of the hurricane and Winston knew he needed reinforcements. By evening, Schmidt had arrived with supplies (Die Hard, pizza, and booze) for the inevitable Nick Breakdown they thought was coming, but it never happened. They were surprised to find that Nick wasn't sorrowful enough to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey as he usually did after a breakup. They'd tried asking him again, but he'd merely shrugged them away with the classic noncommittal excuse, "We wanted different things."
It felt like a half-truth but Nick wasn't crying in Reagan's old room wearing Reagan's clothes or drunk-dialing her in bad accents, so Schmidt and Winston tried to let it go, albeit reluctantly. Maybe Nick had just grown up.
A little while later, Winston and Aly decided to call it a night and head home, exhausted after their busy day. Minutes after they'd left, any remaining semblance of a normal Friday quickly vanished when Jess's voice cut through the din, loud and clear. "Hey, barkeep!" she called. "Hit me up with the best pink wine, you have!"
Her voice made Nick turn around in surprise and he felt a familiar sense of excitement at seeing the face of one of his oldest and best friends. He hadn't seen her in so long. She was on the other end of the bar and he shot her a quick smile, wondering why she was here. Friday was the one day he knew she was completely unavailable. It was the only night Sam had off from work, all the trials and tribulations of being an in-demand pediatrician down at the children's hospital, and the two always made it a point to go out on a dinner date to "keep the romance alive."
True, after marrying Sam, Jess didn't really have much time for him or anyone else for that matter, but she was happy, so he was okay with seeing her only during the holidays. But an impromptu Jessica Day appearance was always welcome, a rare and unexpected treat.
As he poured her favorite pink wine into a glass, he wondered if Sam had come with her. Sam wasn't a bad guy and had seemed quite nice the few times he'd actually spoken to him, but Nick always preferred to see Jess alone. Eyes searching the bar crowd for Sam, he headed over to her as she took a seat at the bar. It looked like Sam was MIA tonight. He couldn't help feeling a little bit happy at the fact that he would get Jess all to himself tonight; they had a lot to catch up on. But when he got closer, he could see her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. His joy at seeing her quickly turned to concern and he wondered if Sam's absence had something to do with her tears. The tear tracks were long gone, but the tip of her nose was still red, a sure sign that she had been crying for a long time. Cece seemed to have noticed her dishevelled appearance as well, because she was making a beeline towards them.
"Hey, Jess," he said carefully, sliding the glass to her across the bar. He glanced around carefully, before asking, "Where's Sam?"
Jess grimaced and downed her glass in a single gulp, just as Cece sat down on the bar stool next to her. "Pour me another," she muttered.
Nick exchanged a quiet look with Cece before pouring her another glass. Cece hesitantly lay a hand on Jess's shoulder. "Babe, what're you doing here on a Friday night? Where's Sam?"
"Yeah. Where is Sam?" she said, laughing bitterly as she finished her second glass. "That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" Then she looked at Nick, her eyes starting to sting with tears. "One more," she said, pushing the glass towards him.
"Jess-" he started warningly. He knew she was a lightweight with a four glass limit, but she cut him off.
"Nick!" she said, scowling, the tears threatening to spill. "I need another glass."
Reluctantly, he poured her another glass and watched with worry as she gulped it all down too. Then she turned to the booth, where Schmidt was trying to catch Nick's eye, face etched with mild concern.
"Schmidt, what're you doing all the way over there?" she said, sounding overenthusiastic. "Come here, I have a something to tell you guys!"
Schmidt looked at Cece and Nick nervously, but then Jess hopped off the stool. "Oh, wait. I'll come over there!" she said her voice breaking a little as she started to walk towards the booth, stumbling slightly. Cece hurried after her, hands hovering on either side of her, just in case she needed to be caught. Nick was also hastily stepping out from behind the bar, and walking after her, already warming up to the idea of punching Sam in the face, if need be.
Jess stood at the table of the booth, towering over them. Cece had slid into the booth next to Schmidt and Nick was standing to Jess's left, arms crossed in wary anticipation. She raised her empty glass in the air. "I, Jessica Sweeney, will soon be Jessica Day again," she said, eyes clouding up again. The tears began to pour freely down her cheeks as she ran her free hand down her face. She collapsed into the booth, her forehead coming to rest on the table with a dull thud.
For a few seconds, a deathly quiet fell over the table, except for Jess's almost silent tears. After getting over his initial shock at her declaration, Nick was crouching down next to her while Cece had bolted out of her seat to kneel next to Nick. Schmidt had slumped in his chair, utter disbelief written over his face, quietly muttering under his breath. Everyone's eyes were still on Jess and all their questions poured out at once.
"What happened?!"
"Did he cheat on you?!"
"You two were doing so great, Jess, how did this happen?!"
She gave them no answers and continued to cry silently. She couldn't bring herself to answer any of them, not yet at least. She found it difficult to process this, although she wasn't really surprised that it had come to this. It wasn't something she'd actually been thinking of doing, but the more she thought about the last few months, the worse she felt. She realized that she'd chosen to ignore the tell-tale signs of trouble in her marriage and had let it come to a point where she couldn't deny it any longer. It only made sense that the sudden static that had developed in their relationship over the last few months would've culminated the way it had this evening.
The tirade of questions from her friends were pounding on her head. She didn't know what to tell them; she wasn't sure she had all the answers herself. She could feel Cece's hand on her knee and she knew Nick was staring at her. She knew they wanted to know what had happened, but she just didn't have it in her at that moment. She had just needed to tell all the important people in her life, to stop herself from living the lie that she and Sam were still happily married and Sam was just taking a business trip somewhere when she knew that wasn't the case.
Slowly, she turned her head to rest her cheek on the table, feeling her own tears on her skin. She looked at two of her best friends and could see the millions of questions in their eyes, behind all the concern.
"Jess," said Cece, softly. "Talk to me."
"I can't," she sniffled. "Not right now."
Jess looked at Nick, pleadingly. "I want another glass of wine."
Nick shook his head and said gently, "You'll regret it in the morning."
Grunting in frustration, she scrunched her eyes shut. She could see all of them exchanging looks in her mind's eye. She wanted to be annoyed, but she was too tired to feel that way. She heard Schmidt whisper something to Cece about calling the babysitter so they could stay longer, but Nick interjected.
"It's alright, you guys head home to Ruthie," he said quietly, his hand now on Jess's back, moving up and down soothingly. "I'll stay with her."
"Jess, we can stay if you want us to," Cece said, turning to Jess to make sure.
"No...no, Ruthie needs you," said Jess, softly. "I'll be fine with Nick."
Cece nodded once and looked at Nick, who gave her a quiet look of reassurance. Schmidt shuffled out of his seat and gently placed a hand on Jess's head. "Call us if you need anything, okay?"
She heard their retreating footsteps after Cece planted a kiss on her head. Nick stood up and she felt him nudge her gently, so she sat up straight and moved further into the booth to let him sit next to her. He asked her nothing, knowing she'd tell him eventually. He threw a hand around her shoulder, tugging her gently toward him. She shifted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She wasn't crying anymore, but she was still breathing heavily.
"Let's get you home," he said quietly.
For a second, that sounded like heaven. All she wanted to do was drink herself to sleep while crying into her pillow. Then she realized that she couldn't go back home. Not tonight at least, or maybe ever. The thought made her sick to her stomach and she started to cry again, no longer silent tears, but deep sobs into Nick's shoulder.
"I can't even go home!" she cried.
"Stay over at my place tonight," said Nick immediately, adding with a hesitant smile. "I'm sure I have Dirty Dancing somewhere. We'll have a Jessica Day Special tonight."
A Jessica Day Special. That's what Nick liked to call Dirty Dancing and a pint of Ben and Jerry's. She wiped her wet face with her hand, sniffling, trying to return his smile. "That sounds good."
"Well, let's get going then," he said. "We'll figure out the rest later, okay?"
With that, Nick left her to her thoughts for a few moments so he could tell Big Bob that he was leaving a little earlier than usual. She watched his retreating back and felt herself a sense of reassurance creep into her. For now at least, there seemed to be a plan; as mundane as it might be, she didn't feel as empty and lost as she had when she had left the house.
She was actually glad not to be going back to that large, empty house. It wasn't home anymore, not really. As she thought of the house she and Sam lived in, every detail started to feel more and more foreign. The entire house was furnished to her and Sam's liking, filled with things from a life that had come to an end just that evening.
She stood up slowly when she saw Nick return, remembering every minute detail of the house, each piece of furniture involving a careful discussion she still remembered vividly. All those details had seemed so important at the time but now it all amounted to nothing. It was the home she and Sam had built together for over three years, that she thought they would grow old in together. Sam had made it quite clear that he would be moving out of that house and she didn't think she'd be able to live there anymore alone with all their ghosts. Everything in that house had become a symbol of their broken marriage.
She no longer had a home or a life plan. All those things were entirely too painful to think about at the moment. But as she felt Nick place his hand reassuringly on the small of her back, guiding her towards the exit of the bar, she decided to focus on how she was still lucky in many ways. As she followed Nick to his car, she felt a warm surge of affection for him. Here was Nick, one of her oldest and dearest friends, taking care of her. She knew he wouldn't make her talk about the end of her marriage, all the ways she had failed. They would just sit on his couch, watching Dirty Dancing and eating ice cream like they always did together whenever life sucked. And in the morning, Nick would help her pick up the pieces and duct-tape it all back together so she could start the rest of her life without Sam.
A/N: A BIG SHOUT OUT TO DREAMSOFSLEEPINGIN FOR BEING THE PATIENT AND BEST BETA ANYONE COULD ASK FOR. EVER.
Yeah, sorry I know I promised flashbacks, but I had to start with a chapter to establish the story. Plenty of flashbacks from the next chapter, I promise - childhood, high school, college, their relationships with different people. I can only pray it's not too confusing. And that neither is the course-of-action I have planned for this fic.
