"Fucking women…"

I woke up to the sound of Jack's deep, husky voice, being jostled in the arms as he climbed up the stairs presumably to take me to bed. Looking up at him wearily, I smiled, just happy that he wasn't yelling at me- he should have been yelling. "You left, but you came back," I whispered, resting my head against his chest. "Well, this is my house. Now," he replied in a monotone, kicking open one of the doors.

"I'm really drunk Jack."

He chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head at me, "Don't I fucking know it Kate? You were passed out on the kitchen floor, half-naked and looking like you either ran into the walls or beat the shit out of yourself…"

"I did- I mean, I did both. Ran into the walls head first and bet the shit out of my legs," I murmured.

He laid me on the bed and I immediately closed my eyes, sinking into the soft bedding that still smelled of Marlboro smoke and my favorite perfume. I might have imagined it but I could have sworn that he rested his large hand on the top of my head briefly, a familiar gesture that I had so longed for the last six years. It was our thing, the small action that let me know that he was there.

But neither of us were truly there in that moment.

I awoke to the sound of a guitar being strummed softly, groaning as I clamped my hand over my eyes to ward off the sunlight. "Does the noise bother you Katie," Jack asked quietly, his voice seeming to waiver. I shook my head in reply as I sighed, "No, its actually very soothing. Thank you."He chuckled and I pulled myself up into a sitting position, meeting Jack's eyes icy blue eyes. The movement made me feel like I was going to be completely sick, but I had something important to say to him, taking a few shallow breaths to fight the nausea.

"You know, I'm sorry. About everything," I murmured, biting down on my bottom lip.

"Don't you fucking dare," Jack said, his voice suddenly harsh even as tears welled up in his eyes. "Don't you fucking apologize because I knew you well enough to know that you're lying Kate. Besides, I didn't come home for this shit- I just came home to bury my mom."

My eyes began to water as well, the pain in my head and in my heart increasing tenfold at his hurtful words. Jack put down his guitar and stood up slowly, in his hands a bottle of water and a bottle of pills.

I reached out to take them so that I could do it myself but he only knelt down and opened the water for me, tilting it up to my lips. "Drink. Slowly, please or you'll make yourself sick," he murmured before handing me two pills. I took them gratefully and inhaled deeply, letting my eyes close, "Thanks."

I then noticed my state of undress, looking down at my underwear before looking up to glare at Jack.

"I know you don't wear clothes to bed but don't worry; you're not anything special to look at."

"Well aren't you just fucking charming," I said spitefully, taking a small but painful hit to my ego.

Jack smirked and stood, pointing to a where a folded towel and washcloth were sitting on the nightstand, "You should got and get a shower. And tell me where your toothbrush is so I can get it for you- you puked a couple of times last night." I grimaced and clamped my hand over my mouth before doing as he said, pressing my towel securely over my breasts in case I encountered any of my estranged siblings on the way to the bathroom. As I washed my hair and got myself together, I thought about why Jack of all people was helping me. He was, after all, the one who had told me six years ago that he wished that I- the woman that he loved so much- was dead, that if he never had to look at me again that he would be perfectly fine with that. And although I deserved it, it still hurt and having him here caused me as much pain as it did him.

When I went back to the bedroom that Jack and I had shared when we were younger, a cup of black coffee was waiting for me, Jack sitting in the armchair by the window. "So, if I slept here, where did you sleep last night," I asked, Jack thrusting the coffee into my hands.

"On the couch."

"I kicked you out of your room-" He smirked, shaking his head, "If I recall correctly, it was our room."

I swallowed down a gulp of scalding liquid before coughing, Jack sighing and taking it from me. "Jesus Kate, its still fucking boiling. Why didn't you blow on it to cool it off," he asked scathingly, doing it for me. I narrowed my eyes at him and stepped back, "Why the fuck are you helping me?"

Jack paused for a long moment before swallowing, a far off look in his eyes.

"Because that's what mom would want me to do."

He then got up and left the room, leaving me to deal with my own pain.

I reached for my pack of cigarettes, sitting down on the small twin-sized bed as I called home, Trish answering the phone breathlessly. "Hey Katie, you're alive," she said before promptly bursting into laughter. I smiled wryly and shook my head, knowing that absolutely anything could be going on in my house. "I'm guessing you guys are having fun without me."

"Of course not; you're our favorite person in the world," Trish said in a sing-song voice, the music in the background almost deafening. I laughed, "You lying bitch- you must be high." She began to talk in a high-pitched voice, laughter peaking in the background. "I've been sucking helium from balloons all day." I looked at my watch and swallowed, seeing that I only had an hour to get ready. "Well, I'll call back later when I can- the funeral's today," I murmured, Trish going silent.

"We're with you Kate."

My hand drifted to press down on my stomach, feeling comforted by the reflex reaction.

"Always."