Chapter 4: Love to my Cobain
Apart from indulging herself with a few drinks now and then while relaxing with a good book or a movie, Hunnigan wasn't much of a drinker. Despite that, she knew well how the stages of drunkenness progressed. You start off with a nice pleasant buzz, you're in a good mood, having fun, enjoying yourself... until you overdo it and tip over to the zone of "I feel like puking", and tumble from there to crying about how Jenny from fifth grade didn't invite you to her birthday party decades ago. Or, alternatively, you pick a fight with a significant other because of something you perceived as a nasty remark... Or drunk-dial an ex perhaps. Or basically just do and say any number of things you're ensured to regret in the morning. Helena was currently balancing on the edge of that, slowly but steadily slipping from being happily drunk to being miserable.
"You know, the truth is... I don't really, I mean, I act like... But things aren't all right," she slurred a little, slowly shaking her head as she sat cross-legged on the floor of Hunnigan's living room, cuddling a glass of whiskey in her lap.
"Okay?" Hunnigan said quietly, not sure what the younger woman had meant exactly. She took a sip of her own drink which was more Cola than whiskey.
"Well, you know how I am. I'm hardly easy to befriend. And after Deborah, I... don't really have anyone. I suppose most of my friends were really her friends, and now that she's gone... Okay, this is coming out wrong. It's not like you said, I'm not trying to be friends with you out of desperation, I really like spending time with you and I really do want to be friends. But, honestly, I really am... lonely," Helena confessed.
"I get it. Just because I prefer being by myself, it doesn't mean I don't occasionally get lonely too," Hunnigan nodded.
"I don't know how you do it, I wouldn't know how to be alone so much."
"I guess it's a matter of being comfortable enough with myself to be able to be alone," Hunnigan shrugged.
"Yeah, well... I don't like myself enough for that," Helena chuckled ruefully.
"Why don't you?" Hunnigan then inquired and Helena paused to ponder about it. She emptied her glass and sighed. She couldn't say, she didn't have a definite reason she could pinpoint as the source of her need to distract herself from her own thoughts and feelings that bubbled up if she was left alone for too long.
"When I was younger, I was this ridiculously angsty teen. I used to just lie in bed and whine about everything, sometimes I'd cut myself and shit like that, you know, the whole nine yards of being super emo," Helena began another confession, paused for a moment and chuckled at her younger self then.
"The most ridiculous thing is that nothing was really wrong. Absolutely nothing. I come from a decent family, my parents were good people. I was a horrible sister to Deborah for the longest time. It took me too long and too much to grow up. I didn't, not until mom and dad died in that fucking car accident and all of a sudden I was expected to look after Deborah," she continued, sniffling a little. Hunnigan remained silent, she didn't know what to say. She was an only child, raised with the firm belief that gentle negligence breeds independence, she'd spent her entire life more or less alone, it was a natural state of being for her.
"And even then... Anyway, my point is, I screwed everything up. I couldn't protect her. My own sister. It's like... when I'm alone, all that just gets multiplied by infinity, and I just want to die, but I can't even do that. Believe me, I've tried and thought about it, but I can't bring myself to pull the fucking trigger," Helena scowled, the taste of metal and gun oil taking over her sense of taste at the memory of having held the barrel of her gun in her mouth.
"Helena..." Hunnigan breathed, somewhat shocked at the younger woman's confession. She'd known things had been tough, but she had never considered Helena the suicidal type. If anything, she seemed quite the opposite, frankly more likely to go on a homicidal rampage rather than take her own life... Not that doing that was an ideal solution either.
"I know, I know, please don't give me a lecture, just listen."
"Okay..."
"...well, actually, that's all I got. I just... I'm really not coping as well as I like to pretend that I am."
"Well, for what it's worth, as far as I'm concerned, you don't have to be. And even if I don't come across as a good listener or as decent friend material, I'm here if you want to talk... and I'm not going anywhere."
"Thanks... and please, don't worry about me because of what I told you. I'm not gonna do anything stupid," Helena assured then. Hunnigan wasn't sure if she was quite convinced, but nodded in agreement despite that. What choice did she have but to take Helena's word for it?
"I don't feel so good," Helena then muttered. Hunnigan moved to help her up and directed her to the bathroom quickly when the younger woman doubled over, pressing her palm over her mouth to suppress the gag-reflex.
"It's okay, just... get it all out," Hunnigan mumbled, holding Helena's hair back and rubbing a soft circle on her back when Helena bent over the toilet bowl.
"M'kay, I think I'm done..." Helena huffed after several minutes of retching.
"You sure?"
"Mm-hm," Helena nodded weakly. Hunnigan helped her back to her feet and directed her to the bed.
Not exactly how I'd imagined bedding you, but hey, at least you're there, she mused as she helped Helena peel away her top layer of clothing and removed her shoes before tucking her in. She was about to stand and go over to the couch when Helena pulled her back and into the bed with her.
"I wanna cuddle," she mumbled in a pouty tone, as if Hunnigan should've realized not to go anywhere.
"That's not... a good idea."
"Please."
"All right..." Hunnigan sighed and stripped down to her underwear before settling to lie beside the younger woman on the bed.
Oh, God, this feels so good it has to be wrong, she sighed internally when Helena wrapped her arm around her and spooned her tightly. Hunnigan knew she wouldn't get any sleep tonight, not just because she was childishly giddy about having Helena so close, but also because she simply didn't dare to let herself fall asleep. Goodness, the last thing she needed was to have another one of her wet dreams with the subject of her desires right there.
"Mmm... I'm having that dream again," Hunnigan mumbled sleepily in the morning when she realized she was lying in Helena's arms, safe and sound after having dozed off despite her best efforts to stay awake.
"What dream?" Helena whispered.
"The one in which we're..." Hunnigan began, but managed to interrupt herself, suddenly fully awake, "I'm not asleep am I?" she then inquired.
"Nope, I don't think so," Helena chuckled softly.
"Well, this is terribly awkward," Hunnigan mumbled.
"Why?" Helena inquired, proceeding to move her thumb back and forth, gently stroking the skin of Hunnigan's abdomen as she still held onto the other woman from behind.
"Please, don't do that," Hunnigan muttered.
"Why?" Helena asked again and Hunnigan sighed.
Because you're playing with fire, turning me on without realizing just how emotionally invested I could get if we did anything, because I'm fucking falling in love with you and I fucking want you so bad it literally aches, and I can't do anything about it and you're... just... there and taunting me with it, having no fucking idea how bad it feels to feel this good.
"Hunnigan?"
"What?"
"I thought you'd fallen asleep, you were quiet for like five minutes," Helena chuckled. Hunnigan didn't comment, instead she placed her hand over Helena's, gripping it firmly to prevent the tiny arousing movement of Helena's thumb that had been stroking her.
"Um... I didn't say anything too embarrassing or break anything last night... did I?" Helena then inquired awkwardly, unable to remember much of what had happened after they'd left the club.
Just my heart when you said you've been contemplating suicide.
"No, we're good," Hunnigan said with a falsely light tone, patting the back of Helena's hand before hurrying to sit up.
"Don't..." Helena pleaded weakly.
"What?" Hunnigan frowned over her shoulder.
"Come back, please. I can't get up now. I'm too hungover. I need you to coddle me."
"It's self-induced pain, I won't coddle you because of it."
"Y'know, I've heard rumors that sex is a great cure for hangovers," Helena flirted shamelessly. Hunnigan put her hands on her hips and quirked an eyebrow.
"Even if that were a confirmed fact, I would not have sex with you just to cure your hangover."
"Fine, I'll just masturbate then."
"Not in my bed you won't!" Hunnigan protested and Helena burst out laughing.
"I'm just teasing you... but seriously, I really am super hungover and I would seriously need darkness, water, junk food, soft sounds and cuddles, please-thank you," Helena murmured in a half-whisper, burying herself deeper into Hunnigan's bed like staying there were the most natural thing in the world.
"Can you actually eat?" Hunnigan then inquired in a defeated tone, already having decided she'd go grab Helena a cheeseburger if the younger woman genuinely felt like she needed junk food.
"...no," Helena admitted slowly.
"Can you drink water?"
"...probably not."
"I bet you can't cuddle in the dark then either," Hunnigan smirked sarcastically.
"Only if you hold me, whispering stuff to me, preferably in a foreign language I do not understand," Helena mumbled weakly.
"How are you at Spanish?" Hunnigan asked in a soft chuckle.
"I know enough of it to get into a knife fight... so not great," Helena responded, pulled Hunnigan to the bed again and when she lied down on her back, Helena moved to rest her head over Hunnigan's shoulder, wrapping her arm and leg around her body firmly.
"Tickle my arm and whisper things," Helena demanded again and Hunnigan had to chuckle at the younger woman's frankness. Who said women women weren't straight-forward about what they really wanted?
Hunnigan inhaled deeply, held it in for a long moment and gave in. She raked her fingernails up and down along Helena's forearm, turned to the younger woman's ear and proceeded to recite the lyrics to Rick Astley's "Never gonna give you up" in Spanish, barely managing to keep from letting the tune of the song sneaking into the words and chuckling at Rickrolling the younger woman who didn't realize what was happening.
"Hey, you said you're having that dream again. You've been having dreams about me?" Helena suddenly asked and Hunnigan almost swallowed her tongue.
"I, uh... Maybe..."
"What kind of dreams?" Helena taunted, obviously determined not to let Hunnigan off the hook.
"Nothing out of the ordinary..."
...if I were a teenaged boy, that is, Hunnigan elaborated privately. Helena turned to stare at her intensely.
"...you're a terrible liar," she murmured, slipping her hand up along Hunnigan's ribs, letting her thumb lightly tease the soft underside of her breast. She then moved her leg, sliding over to straddle Hunnigan's waist and ran her hands up her sides in a firm yet soft caress.
"Stop. Just... stop," Hunnigan scowled, gripping Helena's arms and shoving her aside more forcefully than she'd really intended to. She sat up on the edge of the bed, ran her hand over her face and sighed.
"I'm sorry, but I really don't have it in me to approach this subject with such ease."
"It's not how I..."
"Just because I'm a lesbian, it doesn't mean I function like a dude, you know," Hunnigan scoffed, the anger slowly dripping away from her voice when she realized this was the first time she'd openly referred to herself as a lesbian. Prior to this, she'd referred to herself as bi or straight... both outrageous lies because she'd never really shown genuine interest toward men. She'd tried (oh, God, had she tried) and there were men she respected and liked, she'd even genuinely loved a few, but she'd never wanted to sleep with any of them.
"I'm acting like a stupid fifteen year old around you because I really like you, and the only frame of reference I have is the twenty-something guys I've been with before, and this... ridiculous and frank behavior's never failed with them."
"Oh, for the love of Christ, Helena, that isn't... It's not how any of this works," Hunnigan groaned, intentionally choosing to ignore what Helena had told her about liking her. That simply seemed too good to be true. Evidently Helena could say something like that casually, completely oblivious and not realizing just how high she'd accidentally managed to hitch the other woman's hopes before bringing them tumbling down, letting them crash and smash into pieces as they landed harshly, impacting with the cold, hard surface of reality.
"I know, that's the ridiculous part of it all... I know it's not how it... and still I don't know how else to approach it."
"I'm... literally too old for this shit," Hunnigan grumbled. The last thing she wanted or needed was to serve as some adolescent experiment, especially since she was so easily willing to put down a genuine emotional investment, painfully aware that Helena wasn't at all likely to reciprocate.
"You're not, I'm just too childish about it," Helena said.
"I'm not interested in playing games or casually sleeping with you just because you're curious," Hunnigan managed agitatedly from between clenched teeth.
"I'm not trying to play with you and when I said I want to be friends, I meant that too. I want..." Helena began but she was interrupted by Hunnigan's phone ringing. She reached over to the nightstand and chuckled a little when she saw who was calling.
"Good morning, agent Kennedy. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she inquired, not even attempting to keep the mirth from her voice.
"...how quickly could you get me a temporary passport which would allow me to cross from Canada back to the U.S.?" Leon inquired and Hunnigan blew out an exasperated breath. Times like this she had to wonder just how blurry the line between friendship and being a glorified babysitter actually was.
"Do I even want to know how you lost your passport and how you ended up here anyway?" Hunnigan asked when she arrived at the U.S. consulate in Montréal to pick up one Leon Scott Kennedy and help him deal with the aftermath of his drunken misadventures.
"I' pretty sure I was roofied," Leon offered weakly as if that would explain everything.
"You didn't get in trouble did you? I'd rather not have to deal with some kind of a diplomatic incident in addition to having to bring you back home," Hunnigan muttered. Judging from the fact that he'd already received his emergency passport and was just waiting for a ride home, he'd behaved himself... or at the very least hadn't gotten caught after whatever mischief he may have been involved in.
"I might have insulted their national sports... but in my defense, both hockey and lacrosse are ridiculous sports anyway."
"I respectfully disagree," Hunnigan pursed her lips into a pout and Leon quirked an eyebrow.
"You play hockey?" he asked slowly. No way she played hockey.
"Lacrosse. Well, used to in high school," Hunnigan shrugged, "Go Vikings," she added dryly as Leon slumped into the backseat.
"Well, in that case I apologize for any derogatory remarks I may have made of said sport, and hope that you will still agree to take me home," he requested sheepishly as he lied down and crossed his arm over his eyes.
"Buckle up, buddy, it's gonna be a long drive home," Hunnigan sighed and started the car. She'd decided to drive instead of flying or taking a train, she enjoyed driving and frankly, the long drive was a great excuse to just get away from everything... and everyone, especially Helena.
Leon would've preferred a quicker method of travel, but since he had no money on him and wasn't able to somehow convince the agency that this was a business trip, a car ride it was. He knew Hunnigan had a soft spot for him and his occasional shenanigans, but he wasn't about to abuse it nor was he brave enough to push it by requesting a little personal loan in the form of a first class plane ticket.
Leon spent most of the trip snoozing in the backseat, sleeping off one of the nastiest hangovers he'd experienced in his life. When he finally sat up, Hunnigan smirked at him through the rear view mirror.
"Do you feel as terrible as you look?" she taunted and Leon let out an amused scoff.
"Probably," he yawned, "Where are we?" he then inquired.
"Somewhere around Philadelphia, so it'll be a couple more hours. Feel like filling me in on what happened to you after the club?"
"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing," he grinned devilishly, resting his elbows to the front seats as he leaned over from the middle seat in the back.
"I bet your story is more interesting," Hunnigan deflected.
"It might be if I remembered half of it. After you two abandoned me... thanks a lot for that by the way..."
"You're welcome."
"...I met this crazy chick... crazy in the fun kind of way, not the scary way... and we got to talking and she convinced me that I wasn't allowed to say no to anything she suggested, so we ended up doing a lot of stuff. I'm pretty sure we went to roller derby, and I think I might have a tattoo on my-"
"Okay, too much information."
"Annd... then I wake up in a hostel underneath a pile of laundry and teenagers from Finland or Sweden... or some other country from that part of the world, I can't remember. Obviously, by now all my stuff's long gone, as is the chick I met. And... then I called you and here we are. Shit, I don't think I ever actually hooked up with that woman," he sighed.
"My heart goes out for you," Hunnigan commented, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"So," Leon cleared his throat and poked her shoulder with his elbow.
"I'm guessing you're expecting a titillating story about the sexual escapades between myself and one agent Harper."
"Well yeah, kind of," he nodded.
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but nothing happened."
"Come on! Have you seen her tits? They're bigger than my head! How could you not hit that?" Leon whined and Hunnigan rolled her eyes.
"Well, first of all, she was drunk and in no condition to consent, if I'd done something, I'd have to consider myself a rapist."
"Yeah, I'm sure the millions of people having drunk sex go turn themselves in at sex crimes the morning after," Leon interjected sarcastically.
"And secondly, I need a bit more than 'well, she has nice boobs' to get excited, so excuse me for not getting a lady boner every time I see a pair of breasts."
"There is no excuse for that. Times like these I can't help but think that the whole concept of carnal desires and animal instinct is totally wasted on you. Especially when considering that kiss she gave you."
"I have the same instincts as anyone else, but I'm not an animal and am more than capable of dismissing the urge to screw everything that moves," Hunnigan scoffed.
"That's just a fancy way of saying you're a prude," Leon taunted and Hunnigan sighed deeply. She wasn't a prude, on the contrary if she was honest. But, for her to even seriously consider having sex with someone was a matter of trust. Allowing another person into her life, to know her intimately, leaving her own vulnerabilities out in the open for another to witness required a lot of trust. She needed to know the other person, needed to be able to trust them.
"If wanting sex to actually mean something makes me a prude, then so be it. Now, can we just drop the damn subject?" Hunnigan growled then.
"Well, I still think it's a damn shame you didn't get with Helena. You two would look good together. Trust me, I know, I've thought about it often enough," he grinned.
"One more word out of you and I'll turn this car around and dump you back in Canada. Don't think that I won't."
