Notes from Mama Lobster: Special thanks to Tonnere and DazzlingPawn for being way too nice to me. Hope you guys all still enjoy :)
No Light, No Light
== John: come home
She's on your couch again, for the first time in a week. You haven't seen her, heard from her, or spoken to her once since she fled your house in tears.
She's not exactly the loose, confident person you're used to coming home to, with her back straight and her knees tightly together, hands folded neatly into her lap. When finally manages to look at you, you wonder if she's subtly willing you to explode.
"Hey John." Your name sounds odd on her lips. "Did you miss me?"
Her bravado is cracked, obviously fake, but you play along. The look on her face last time was too much for you to deal with. You're not going to press your luck.
"Yeah, I did. Where were you?"
"I had some business to deal with." She crosses her arms tightly across her chest, refusing to meet your eyes.
"I don't think that really cuts it here. I've been trying to call you for days. Casey missed you."
She turns further away from you, tapping her nail on her elbow. You could almost place the look on her face as guilt. Almost.
"…I missed her too."
"Couldn't you have answered our calls, then?"
"No." Her voice is matter of fact, unapologetic. "I couldn't, and you can't call anymore. This is over."
You can't say you're surprised, but that doesn't stop it from hurting. Can it be called getting dumped if she was never really dating you in the first place? You sigh, trying to hide the ache in your chest as you collapse next to her on the couch. She is so, so careful not to touch you.
"…Will you at least tell me what happened?" You manage to mumble it through your hands; talking right now is much more difficult than you anticipated. She hesitates, fidgeting in her seat.
"We just can't see each other. Trust me, it's for the best."
"No it isn't. You don't get to just walk out like this, not now, you owe me an explanation."
She jerks away from you, more uncomfortable than you have ever seen her before. "I don't owe you anything. It's not like we were together to begin with."
She's cold. It stings like hell, but you know better than to believe her at this point.
"We were together, Simone." your voice is getting sharper by the second.
"We weren't, and we shouldn't be."
"Jesus fuck, fine!" She's getting under your skin whether you like it or not, and she still doesn't seem particularly fazed. "Then you go upstairs and tell Casey! You tell my daughter why the woman she's starting to think of as part of her FAMILY was never actually with her and can't see her anymore!"
"It's not like that…"
"You just said it was! We were never together. Now go tell that to Casey."
She shifts again, crossing and uncrossing her arms like she has no idea what to do with them. She won't meet your eye when you lean over to look at her.
"If you can't tell it to Casey, at least tell it to me. She loves you and she should know why you don't love her back."
"I.. you SAW why!"
"Simone, I have absolutely no idea what I saw." Her shoulder is cold under your touch, and you have the vague instinct to pull a blanket over her. You resist. "Maybe if you just tell me what's going on, we can figure this out."
She hangs her head forwards, collapsing over her knees. She might have been shaking, if you didn't know that Simone Rogers is a confident little minx who never shakes for any reason at all. She'd never break down just because some single suburban dad was pestering her.
She was shaking that night.
But that wasn't Simone. That couldn't have been her.
She's still hiding from you, doubled over her knees and hiding her face as best she can. You don't know what else to do, so you keep your hand on her shoulder in a way you hope is comforting.
"You can talk to me, you know."
Still she says nothing, perfectly still. The silence makes your stomach twist in knots.
"Simone…" You tighten your grip on her shoulder, and realize very quickly that this was a mistake. In one quick, clean motion she's jerked free of you, and before you can say anything she's halfway to the door.
"You will absolutely thank me one day. Just don't call me, okay?" She shouts it over her shoulder.
"No!"
She glances at you, her gaze ice cold and her shoulders still heaving.
"Please…" you don't care how sad it sounds. You don't care what she will and won't tell you, you don't need to know anything she doesn't want to say. All that matters is that she doesn't make it out that door, because you know you'll never see her again.
She does pause, turning to face you with her arms crossed and shoulders hunched. You are still absolutely, 100% positive that Simone Rogers is too cool and confident to shake and what you're seeing is just a trick of the light. You have to think fast if you want her to stay.
"Simone... you're amazing, and Casey and I love you, and I really, really missed you when you left. I don't know what's going on, and I don't really care that much except for you thinking I'm evil but I swear I will fix whatever you need as long as you don't walk through that door!"
She takes a hesitant step away, and you nearly topple the couch in an attempt to get to her before she leaves.
"Simone!"
Silence again. She doesn't resist as you approach her, but tenses under your touch. If it wasn't for her breath on your neck you might think you were holding a statue.
== Be Simone
He's clinging to you so tightly you can't move, and you shove him off for it. His eyes are dark, silently begging you not to walk through that door, and you can practically taste the storm brewing behind them. The panicked noise inside your head is about ready to split you in half.
"See, this is why we can't do this. You're just going to get upset."
"I'm not upset! I'm…I don't know what I am. I just wish you would sit down and talk to me." He moves to touch you again, but seems to think better of it. Strangely enough, the way he drops his arm is more comforting than any hug he's ever given.
His jaw is strong under your fingers, and he leans into your touch with a pained expression. He wants to help, but he doesn't need to. It doesn't matter how nice it feels to have him look so sad on your behalf, and the ice in your heart isn't his problem. He doesn't have to live day to day the same way you do. You don't need his help, and you sure don't need to worry about accidentally fucking up his little girl.
You place a kiss on his jaw and turn to leave. He grips your wrist again, and your heart leaps into your throat. It would be really nice if he would stop grabbing you right about now, but the bitter, teary look on his face is more terrible than his fingers on your arm.
"So why did you come around in the first place if you were just going to go?" His eyes are still dark, burning a hole through your forehead as if to see the answer written within your mind.
You don't have a good answer for him. You never really believed it would get this far? You were just having fun? Your mind shrieks that these are lies, but you try voicing them anyway. His hurt expression almost makes you want to stop.
"So, you really never believed that we were good together. Not even a little?"
"Not even a little." Your mind is protesting the string of dishonest garbage escaping your mouth, but you choke it down under a blank expression.
"…I don't think you're telling the truth."
Well who is he to call you on your bullshit, especially when he is so unequivocally, absolutely right about it? You don't even know what you're saying anymore, the anger leaps up faster than your head can push it down.
"I don't think it's your place to judge, honey."
"You've been coming around here for so long now, and finding me at shows, and picking up Casey from school and sleeping over and if you're going to tell me that you did it all because you were bored then I'm going to call you a liar!" The slight flutter in your stomach is matched only by the flutter of the breeze around your ankles. "Now stop pretending this isn't something you want and talk to me!"
Though you might be silent again, you're screaming so loudly he must be able to hear it. Every part of you wants to tell him how wrong he is, how right he is, how it doesn't fucking matter because a girl like you has no place in a home like this and something is going to go terribly, terribly wrong if you allow him to convince you otherwise.
He releases your arm and the screaming settles a little. You have to pause to take a breath.
"What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say what you mean for once." He approaches again, hesitating only when he sees you flinch away. "I'm not going to make you stay if you don't want to, but… I don't want you to leave, and I really don't want you to leave me here in the dark. So what do you actually want?"
You have to stop to think about that for a minute. Survival has been key for so long… is there anything you've actually really wanted besides having a roof over your head, food in your stomach and control over your body?
Oh.
"I don't want you to grab me anymore. You can't physically keep me here."
He takes two steps backwards, his eyes still clouded and dark. He puts his hands up in surrender, and the screaming in your mind settles further. You take a moment to appreciate the silence before realizing that he wants something more.
"I want to go to Casey's piano recital." It's the first thing that comes into your head. A sigh escapes his lips, one that in other circumstances might have been a laugh.
"I think you can probably do that. Casey would be really happy."
He's well out of arms reach of you now, stuck somewhere between confused and hurt and angry. He's holding back, and so you step forward.
"Hey!" He's as surprised as anything when you shove him, but doesn't retaliate. He holds the ground you set for him, stumbling to regain his balance.
"…I want to stay here tonight." He snaps to attention at this, nodding quietly.
"Okay." He stands, waiting where you had pushed him without moving.
His smile is so sad when you step closer, putting yourself in his way. He really has been holding back. There is so much desperation in the way he holds your hair, kissing your temple and pulling you into his shoulder. His chest convulses with dry, empty sobs as he buries his face in your hair, and strangely enough the screaming in your head is silenced.
There is a warmth in your chest that you can't quite explain. You wonder vaguely if he can feel your heart beating through your skin.
He calms a bit before pulling away, insisting you take the bed while he claims the couch. You're not very good at resisting when he seems so determined to dote on you, though you keep trying to convince yourself it has nothing to do with the gentle heat spreading down your fingertips. He sets you up quickly, kissing you goodnight and leaving you with hesitation. You pause to reassure him that you'll be there in the morning, and his forehead meets yours in relief.
"Simone?"
"Yeah?"
"…I'm really sorry you're unhappy. And I'm sorry I scared you. And I hope you staying isn't a one time thing."
You smile and lift your lips to brush his, trailing the kiss softly along his jaw.
"Thanks."
He squeezes your hand and bids you a silent goodnight, and you snuggle down into the comforter that smells like soap and grass clippings. You might have slept soundly that night, if it weren't for the howling wind outside.
