A/N: Okay, so this chapter is a hard read. Jeff is really going through some things. You gotta bear with him. This story doesn't have too many more chapters. I really don't want it to be more than 20, so I'm hoping to start wrapping it up soon.

Thank you to everyone who has read, even if you haven't reviewed. It means a lot.

Scratch the Surface - Chapter 14

"NO!" My face is soaked with sweat and my heart is racing. Looking around I notice that the room is still and that comfort is enough to remind me to breathe. Every night it's the same dream, but tonight it was more vivid than ever.

I don't remember it all, only the hall with all of them standing there. I remember their faces so clearly and the ones whose names I couldn't remember were wearing name tags. A few were chained, some just pinned down… I could still make out a few faces, but other ones were covered in blood. They all look like they did the last time I saw them. It was kinda comforting, actually.

I wouldn't really consider it a nightmare. Don't get me wrong, it was a scary dream but not in the traditional sense. I guess it was scary because it felt so real, like I could feel their presence and their cold, dead fingers touching me. I could see the longing and desire in their dead eyes. It was haunting, but that's not what scared me, either.

What scared me? Them telling me that I'm not done, that I never will be. All of them kept begging me to take 'em and I freaked because I wanted to. Even now I still want to. If I could close my eyes and force myself to pick up the dream where I ended it, I would do it. I would take each and every one of them. And that's enough to scare the shit outta me.

I reach over to grab my cigarettes and notice how badly my hand is shaking. This has got to stop. I'm waking up with cold sweats, shaking like a crack fiend, watering at the mouth. This is fucking torture. I need something, but I don't know what the fuck it is. All I know is this rocking back and forth shit isn't helping anything.

Adam would know what to do. I could go to him right now and tell him how I'm feeling and he'd make it all better. He'd take one look at me and make the uneasiness go away. He'd let me cry and hold me tightly in his arms. He'd whisper to me until I felt safe and protected. He'd rock me gently until I felt myself calming down. Then he'd kiss me ever so softly and that's when I'd know that I'm loved.

Yeah. That's what he'd do…that is if he were speaking to me. I don't think he's mad, though. It's more like he's trying to punish me from his touch. Instead of hugs and kisses, now he smiles at me and shakes his heads, like there's some damn inside joke that I don't know about. All I know is I don't like it. Not only am I giving up my hobby, but now Adam's put me on a diet from him, too.

I need to get out of this room. I need to see something else besides the black painted walls and dark wooden furniture. This room looks like a dungeon; it's all gloomy and heavily shadowed. My room looks like I'm hiding something; like I'm doing something so sinister that I don't want anyone to see. It's different from Adam's room, that's for sure. His room is so much bigger and it's so bright and full of life. He's not afraid in his room. He does whatever he wants, right out in the open. Adam doesn't know about having secrets or locking yourself away from the rest of the world to keep them safe. I wish just once I knew what that kind of freedom felt like. But staying confined here so that I don't go out isn't helping anyone, especially not me. I can move around the house, damnit. It's my house. I can go where in the hell I want.

The carpeted stairs are quiet, shielding the weight of my steps as I descend. Adam is home. His boots are by the front door. I didn't even know he left, let alone came back. Where does go when I'm not with him? There use to be time where he wasn't ever without me. We use to be inseparable, but now we're growing apart. Now it's like I'm living with a stranger.

Maybe I'm just paranoid. It's only been nine days since Maria cured me and already I'm second guessing everything. I know it sounds crazy, but I can't help it. I'm suspicious of everything, even myself. I know for sure that Adam's not going to find a new group of friends. He's not going to replace me. At least I hope not. What would do if he did? How could I survive?

I'm not going to get myself all worked up. He's just upset about my decision to marry Kelly. It'll blow over. He'll see. He'll understand and he'll want me to be happy. He's not going to abandon me. He'll adjust. He'll make room for Kelly and our family in his heart. I have to keep telling myself that, so one day I'll start to believe it. See, I don't even understand why I think about it like that. Adam's not acting resentful at all. It's me. I'm the one creating distance. Why when I know that I need him so much and what I'm doing is keeping us apart?

Maybe I'm afraid that he's going to talk me out of it? He can't though 'cause I'm cured. I have everything I need and when I marry Kelly I'm going to keep it forever. With a future like that, there's no reason for me to feel this way. So why in the hell do I have cramps in my stomach and my eyes won't focus.

I feel like I'm dying. Either that or I'm losing my mind.

Maybe this is the grief process. I never really said goodbye to that other Jeff. Maybe in my haste to start over, I never grieved for the person I was. How do you grieve for yourself? Should I hold a memorial? I bet Adam would know. He knows everything.

Maybe I'm just heartbroken. I feel so empty without him near me. I want him to love me the way he used to. To look at me with those soft eyes and know that my happiness is all that he cares about. I want to him to look at me the way I look at Kelly. I want him to know that I'm tired of fighting it and I just need to be held until this craving passes. I want him to see my pain and to wipe my tears when they fall. I want him to help me. I can't do this without him. Damn him! Why won't he help me?

I need to call Kelly. Lately, she's been the only one that keeps the sanity near, 'cause when she's around I concentrate more on her than what I'm feeling. God. Am I going to have to be in her presence for the rest of my life just so I don't have to feel this way?Without thinking I cross the kitchen and grab the telephone. Who cares if it's three in the morning, I need help and someone is going to give it to me. I can't spend my entire fucking life taking of her. What about me? What has she ever done for me? Well right now I'm going to give her the chance to start.

"Hello?" Kelly's asleep. She has a class in a few hours and I guess that trumps the crisis I'm going through at the moment. Fucking class and sleep and shit. I'm about to lose my goddamn mind and she has the nerve to be taking a fucking nap?

I bet she's even snuggled in her pink blankets with that fucking revolving stars and moon lamp spinning around the room. Just the thought of that room is making me cringe. "Hey."

"Jeff? What time is it?" Her baby soft voice is thick with sleep and usually I'd feel sorry for waking her. But fuck that. The only person I feel sorry right now, is me. And what's with that question? What time is it? Not what's wrong or are you alright, only what time is it? Like what I'm going through right now is secondary to the fucking time. Who in the fuck does she think she is?

This was a mistake. I shouldn't have called her. She's not responsible for taking care of me. And after listening to her, I don't think she could handle it. She just proved with that one question, that she'll never know all of me. She doesn't deserve to. "It's late. Go back to sleep."

"Is everything okay?"

No. Nothing is okay. But it's about fucking time that she thought to ask. What clued her in? The fact that I'm calling in the three in the morning, or is the frantic sound of my voice a dead give away? Could be it the fact that I'm fucking salivating like a rabbid dog or maybe the ice water running through my veins making my teeth chatter? Hmm, let's see...could it be me sweating like I'm in the fucking Sahara? Stupid bitch. Do I look like I'm fucking okay to you? "Yeah. Everything is fine. Good night." Hitting the end button on the phone but keeping it to my ear, all I can hear is the sound of my own breathing.

I need help. I need something to take the edge off.

My eyes lift to Adam's smiling face and raised brows as he walks past me. He knows damn well there is something wrong with me, but he won't come to me. Fucking proving a point shit. Why can't he just yell at me like a normal person? At least that way after a fight, we could make up and he could help me through this.

But he won't. He won't say anything. He's waiting for me to come to him. Well you know what? Fuck that. I'm not giving in. I'm not proving him right. This is my decision and it's the right one. I don't want his help. But I need it. I just need feel his arms around me and have him soothe the confusion away. But I'll be damned if I beg.

He only stands there long enough to smile at me before I'm forced to watch him walk up the stairs. Why is he doing this? Why is he so distant? All I want to do is get married, not sever the relationship that we have. Doesn't he understand that I need him? I can't spend my whole life taking care of Kelly without somebody taking care of me. That's his fucking job, to take care of me. My job is to be the needy, screw up, his job is to make it all better. He needs to do his fucking job and stop bullshitting around, here.

I need to get a grip. It's not his fault. It's mine. Maybe I am weak. I've seen people at their weakest to the point of not knowing if they're going to live or die. They have that look of shear terror in their eyes. I've seen it. It's comforting to me.

Sure they begged and screamed, but they didn't lose it. They held it together and had some shred of dignity when they died. They were stronger than me. Every one of those weak motherfuckers was stronger than I am. I'm slowing dying and could give a fuck less about my dignity, right now. I just want someone to hear my screaming without having to reduce myself to actually doing it.

I hate myself and everything in my life. I hate Adam and the way he's acting. I hate Kelly and her perfect innocence. I hate this fucking house, for trapping me in it. This fucking kitchen and this little ass table in this big ass space…it just looks fucking stupid.

And when in the hell did he replace the cabinet doors? Why do we need glass doors? Do we need to see our dishes? I'm having a fucking nervous breakdown and he's being Bob fucking Villa. But that's typical Adam. If you don't do one thing right, he'll may you pay by taking everything comfortable away. Nothing in here is mine anymore. Everything from the neutral colors, to the apple pie scented candles, to the freakishly tidy appearance, is Adam. I've been here for five years and in nine days, he's managed to get rid of me. There's no trace of me anywhere. I've fucking vanished from the one person who actually saw me. It's like I never existed.

I should just go to the cabin and talk to Maria. She understands me. She listens to me. She thinks I'm strong and powerful regardless. And she'll me give what I want; the fear etched on her face, even if she won't cry. I just need a little more of her healing. If she can cure me again, I know it'll stick this time.

But I don't think she'd even offer me her redemption again. I think she's afraid of me or disappointed because she doesn't put her arms around me anymore. There's no more warmth in her touch. I can't even smell her innocence. She's hiding herself from me, because she knows that's what I need from her. Now, she just sits in that closet and looks at me with those huge eyes, but there's no emotion behind them.

Everyone is turning on me. Well you know what? Fuck them. I don't need any of them. I'll do this on my own.

Turning off the kitchen light, I notice that Adam left the one in the basement on. I hate the basement. It's so cold and damp. I know it sounds stupid from a guy that hangs out in abandon buildings, but the basement scares me. I mean, I won't even go down there to do laundry. Adam always does it. The only time I ever step foot down there is to get the Christmas decorations and Adam is always with me. He usually laughs, then kisses my head before taking my hand and leading me downstairs. He always walks in front of me to make sure that everything is safe. Then he sits at the foot of the steps and watches me while I rummage through the boxes. He never leaves that step until I'm ready to come up.

My lips twitch in a smile at the memory but that's suddenly replaced by licking them to ebb the fear. Why can't Adam protect me right now? I'm sick, scared and alone, but there's a sound that's like a symphony to me. And I have to go down there to hear it.

Looking around the kitchen as if there's some dark presence watching me, I swallow hard and take the first step. My sweaty palm glides along the wooden banister and my other hand is clinched into a tight fist. My feet touch each step softly like I'm gonna creep up on my fear or something. But as scared as I am, I can't help but to feel triumphant and little drunk by the prospect of hearing that sound again.

You know those clouds of aroma that drag the cartoon characters around by their nostrils? Well that's what this sound is doing to me. I'm not even half way down and already it's becoming clearer. It's making me excited…clinch my thighs involuntarily…tingle in my groin…

As more of the room comes into view the anxiety mounts. The movement is getting louder and more sporadic. I don't know what it is, but it feels comforting. It's almost like something is trying desperately to get away from me. And the more it needs to retreat, the more I need to find it. "Hello?"

Now there's another sound. It sounds like metal, but with a soft whimper. That's gotta be what it is. There is no other sound quite like fear.

Stepping onto the last step, I stare at the sight in front of me and feel my heart race. A cage, like the ones that you train dogs in. I didn't expect to see that. But that's not what has my feet glued to the spot, though. The thing that has my muscles refusing to move is the woman inside of the cage.

God she's a sight for sore eyes.

She's huddled in the corner, dirty, tatter and beaten, gagged, hands tied. She's terrified. I can smell it from here and it's the most beautiful smell in the world. The adrenaline is pumping through my body to the point that I have to grip onto the banister not to advance.

What do I do? She wants me. She's beckoning me with those tears, and teasing me with the way the she's squatting trying to crawl away from me. She wants me to play the game. She wants the chase and to have me take her. She's practically begging me. The thought of what she wants me to do makes me smile. Suddenly I don't feel sick or crazy anymore. I feel like I have a purpose.

I have to make a choice. Should there even be a choice? Maybe I could give in just this once and it'll be easier afterward. But I've come so far. It's been nine days and it's no guarantee that this going to make me feel any better. But after nine days doesn't the taste leave your tongue? You don't still think about it every waking moment of the day, do you? Seeing a woman in a cage in my home shouldn't put my soul at ease. But God knows it does.

This is supposed to be wrong. At least, I should feel like it's wrong. "I don't need this. So stop fucking asking me." I hear my voice and look around to make sure that everything around me hears it, too.

I hear Adam coming down the stairs from the second floor to the first. Out of instinct, I turn around and head back up myself. I don't want to leave her with her fear all alone. Someone should be there to watch it. But I know I can't stay here without giving in. I can't take the temptation or the way she's looking at me. She wants me so bad, but I can't. At least I shouldn't want to.

I don't make it very far, only back to the kitchen. I close the door behind me and slide down it until I'm sitting with my knees against my chest. I don't know what to do. What's more important, my wants or my needs? Not that it matters because right now, I want what I need and need what I want. And they're both her.

I thought I could push away the hunger, but I was so wrong. And the scariest thing about it is I know that if I don't feed it soon, it's going to eat me.