A/N: to my guest reviewer: I didn't cut it, but it wasn't a full scene, so I can see how you could've missed it if you weren't reading super carefully. It's a couple paragraphs in the middle of chapter 24 (beginning "when he was just a certain level of incoherent.") The Kwest and Sadie kiss happens in that block of text as well, and both of those things are fairly major in that they come up multiple times after they're initially mentioned. Sorry about that, I imagine missing those couple paragraphs made the last few chapters a bit confusing!

Anyway, while I'm here, I will take this opportunity to remind everyone that this story is rated M for a reason.


Jude wanted to be excited the day Tommy finally got to come home from the hospital, but all she could bring herself to feel was worried. She couldn't help but feel that if he was going to leave her, now would be the time he'd choose to do it. In the hospital, with Kwest and Sadie and the nurses and doctors, there was a buffer between them. Now Kwest and Sadie were leaving, and it would be just the two of them, alone in their apartment. In the hospital they'd been doing okay, relatively speaking. They talked, even laughed together sometimes. There had been a few times where he'd smiled at her and it felt like it used to before she messed everything up. But she could tell he was still angry at her, that he still couldn't decide whether he could forgive her. She couldn't really blame him for that, but it still scared her deeply.

When she confessed her fears to Sadie, she'd pulled Jude into a hug and said, "He loves you, okay? He's still angry, but he knows you're sorry, he understands that you made a mistake… You guys are going to be okay."

Jude tried to believe that, but the intensity of the anger and hurt she still often saw in Tommy's face made her doubt.

Kwest and Sadie came back with them, to help them settle in, but they left after dinner to head to the airport. Almost instantly after their goodbyes were said and the door closed behind them, Jude could feel all the tension rush back between her and Tommy. She found herself full of nervous energy, fidgeting with her star ring and watching him as he sat on the couch, trying and failing to find something to say. When he sighed heavily, putting his head in his hand, she asked, "You okay?"

He looked up and nodded wearily. "Just tired."

"Big day," she said. It wasn't even dark yet, but he looked completely exhausted, so after a moment she asked, "Do you want to go to bed?"

Tommy's jaw clenched. Jude knew the reason for the irritation—with the cast and the left-side weakness, she was going to need to help him with some of the everyday tasks, at least for the next couple of weeks. He took a deep breath and nodded.

As she helped him get ready for bed, she could tell he was fighting really hard to suppress his frustration and irritation. He did a good job of it, only snapping at her once, when she tried to help him in the bathroom. He changed shirts himself without too much trouble, but fumbled one-handed with the button on his jeans until Jude reached out and helped him. She tried to ignore the desire that surged through her at being so close to him, undressing him like she'd done so many times in completely different contexts. He sat on the edge of the bed and she helped him pull the jeans over the cast. She found herself longing to touch him, to kiss him, climb on top of him, feel him between her legs… She flushed, her face heating up, and stepped back, looking away from him and cursing the timing of these feelings.

Tommy climbed into the bed and gave another heavy sigh as he lay back against the pillows. "I hate this," he said quietly. "All of this. The pain, you having to help me with everything… I just fucking hate this."

"At least you're home," Jude said with a cheerfulness that rang false to her own ears. "That's something."

Tommy frowned at her. "Am I, Jude? Is this still home?" His tone was harsh.

The comment stung. She could tell by his guilty expression that he saw her flinch. She cleared her throat to rid it of the lump that had formed there and took a few steps back from the bed. "Okay, I'm going to let you sleep." She looked down at the ground when she said it. "And, uh… if you want me to I can… I'll just grab my pillow and sleep on the couch."

He sighed. "Don't be stupid," he said. Then, more gently, "Sleep in the bed, Jude. It's your bed, it's our…" he shook his head. "You can sleep next to me, it's not a problem. Please do."

"I'm just trying to figure out how much you hate me."

He sat up a little on the pillows, though it seemed to take monumental effort. His voice was quiet, but sure as he said, "I don't hate you, girl. I couldn't ever hate you. I…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "It's hard, it's… impossible, but I don't hate you, okay?"

She felt tears threatening when he called her "girl," and fought them back. "Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" she asked softly.

Tommy took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, closing his eyes. There was pain in his expression, and his voice when he spoke was tight and quiet. "I want to. I'm trying."

… ... … ... …

The second night Tommy was home, Jude woke in tears from a nightmare, gasping for breath. As soon as she became aware of where she was, she tried to quiet her crying, sitting up and looking over at Tommy sleeping next to her. It was dark in the bedroom, but the little bit of light allowed her to see his chest rising and falling, and it made her at least able to breathe again. As she tried to stop the crying, taking shaky breaths, Tommy stirred and groaned. "Jude?" he croaked, his voice thick with sleep. "What–"

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, sniffling and wiping her eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm fine. It's fine, go back to sleep. I'm sorry."

He turned his face toward her, concerned, "What is it?"

"Just a nightmare," she said, running a hand through her hair and taking deep breaths to try and slow her still-racing heart. "It's fine. I'm sorry I woke you."

He tried to shift positions and winced. "Ow, fuck."

"Are you okay? Head or leg?"

"Both," he groaned. "Everything." He glanced at the clock, which read 3:49. "I went to bed too early. Painkillers are starting to wear off. Can you get me the–" he cut off when he realized she was already turning on the lamp and moving around to his side of the bed. She took out a pill and grabbed the glass of water she'd set there last night. After she helped him sit up and he took the pill, he tried to relax again into the pillows. He missed the injections of medication in the hospital, which went into effect so much more quickly.

Jude sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, meaning to brush the hair off of his forehead, but she pulled her hand back at the last second. He gently grabbed her hand, pulling it to him and turning his face to kiss her palm, giving her permission to touch him. She smiled and gently stroked his hair. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Meds'll kick in eventually. You?"

"Oh. Fine." She waved a hand dismissively. "Just a nightmare. I'm really sorry I woke you up. It's no big deal," she insisted, but she sniffled a little as she said it, pulling her hand back to wipe her eyes again.

His heart ached at the sight of tear tracks on her face. "You're having nightmares?" he asked, reaching out to take her hand again, squeezing it. Jude had been having bad nightmares on and off for years, first after what happened with Hunter, then after each time with Megan. Just as they had both finally been getting past that, Caroline died. For the first few weeks after their daughter's death, Jude had woken in tears at least once a night.

Jude shrugged, trying to brush it off. "Sometimes. This was the first one since you've been home, though. I think they're not as bad when you're here." She smiled a little. "I'm fine."

"Caroline?" he asked softly.

She shook her head, looking down at her lap. "You, this time."

His heart broke a little more at that. "I'm okay," Tommy insisted. "I am, Jude."

She looked back up at him and gave a watery smile, squeezing his hand. "I know. It was just a dream."

He wanted to say something else, wanted to tell her he loved her, but the words wouldn't come out, so he just asked again, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, pulling their entwined hands up to her lips and kissing his the back of his hand lightly. "Thanks." She reached out to stroke his hair one more time before turning off the light and getting back in bed.

After several long minutes of laying there, listening to her breathing, Tommy said "Jude?" His voice was thick, his words starting to slur a little as the medication kicked in and sleep washed back over him.

He heard her shift, turning towards him. "Yeah? You okay?"

"-'m fine. You should come here." When one of them had nightmares, they always used to curl up together, holding each other until they fell asleep again. He was half asleep now, but he wanted her to know he was here, that he was okay, that she didn't have to be scared. Jude sat up, preparing to come around to his side of the bed again, and he said, "No, no, don't get up, I mean… you should come here here… come closer, lay with me."

"Oh." Jude sounded surprised. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

She moved closer to him, but hesitated. "I don't want to hurt you."

"No, 'sokay, just careful of the ribs on the right." She lay down next to him, tentatively, barely touching him, and he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her snugly into his left side. He felt her relax, laying her head on his chest and curling into his side, her leg over his.

"This doesn't hurt, does it?" she asked, tilting her face to look up at him.

"No." He bent his head down to press a kiss to her forehead. Truthfully, the weight on his chest did hurt his ribs a little at first, but the twinge of pain was worth it for the relief he felt at finally holding her close again. He'd missed this more than he'd realized. She placed a hand over his heart and nuzzled into his chest. He kissed her hair and breathed in the comfortingly familiar scent of her shampoo.

After a long moment, she spoke again. "I miss you," she said quietly, her voice breaking a little.

Tommy was almost asleep, but he tightened his arm around her and murmured, "I'm right here."

… ... … ... …

Jude washed Tommy's hair as he sat in his wheelchair in front of the bathroom sink, and he actually allowed himself to relax as her fingers gently massaged his scalp, careful not to pull on the skin near the incision. He smiled at her when she said, "All done," and he even leaned into her hand a little when she placed it on the side of his face and stroked his cheek briefly with her thumb.

The atmosphere shifted when she helped him undress, both of them becoming tense and awkward. She helped him into the bath, being careful to keep the cast on his leg out of the water. Jude knelt next to the tub and tried to suppress the ill-timed desire that welled up in her at the sight of his naked body. She tried not to help him too much, for fear he'd get irritated and snap at her, only reaching out to help him support himself when he had to sit forward, an awkward position when his leg had to be kept lifted out of the water, and gently taking the washcloth from him to wash his back after watching him struggle with it. She felt the tension in his muscles, saw his clenched jaw, and found herself desperately hoping, as horrible as it was, that it was because he was in pain, and not a reaction to her touching him.

Neither of them spoke until the water was drained and she helped him awkwardly out of the tub, ending up having to pull him flush against her with his arm around her shoulders. "Sorry," he said quietly as he stabilized and moved backwards. He stood in front of her, one arm still around her shoulders for balance, and looked down at the spots of water on her shirt. "Didn't mean to get you wet."

She highly doubted the innuendo was intentional, but she couldn't help letting out a breathless laugh. "I don't mind," she said softly, finally unable to resist the temptation to let her fingers trail lightly over his bare chest, her gaze following her hand over his still-damp skin.

She felt him shiver, heard his breath quicken. "Jude…" he said in a low voice, almost a warning.

She looked back into his eyes, allowing her hand to move a little lower and stepping closer to him. "Yes?" she breathed.

Electricity crackled between them for just a second before pain flashed in his expression and he looked away. "Hand me the towel, please," he said, his voice tight.

She felt the rejection like a knife in her gut, and she pulled her hand back, her cheeks burning. The sick irony of it infuriated her. For weeks after Caroline died, she'd been unable to let him touch her, even when she could see that he desperately craved the intimacy, that he wanted her, needed her, to comfort him. She'd seen desire in his eyes on more than one occasion and had cringed away from his touch. Now she was a ball of aching tension, of molten need as he stood in front of her dripping wet and half-hard, and it was him who cringed. She tried to push away the pain and the humiliation she knew she deserved, silently handing him his towel.

"Thank you," he said softly, quickly wrapping the towel around his waist, covering up. She helped him to the wheelchair and wheeled him into the bedroom. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping the towel wrapped around his waist, and she brought him his clothes. "I got it," he said as she started to help him.

"Are you s–" she started to ask, but he cut her off.

"I've got it, Jude," he said, more firmly, still not meeting her eyes. It was a dismissal, and she tried not to let on that it hurt. She nodded and turned away, but as she was almost to the door he said, "I want to hire a nurse."

She turned back. "What?"

"Just for the next couple weeks. Part-time. Just for stuff like this." He saw the pain in her expression and looked guilty. "It's not that I'm not grateful, but it just… it shouldn't have to be your job, yeah?"

She stammered, "I- I don't mind, I–"

"I know," he cut her off, again. "And thank you for that. But I think it'll work better this way." He said it gently, trying to soften the blow.

It didn't work. She felt tears stinging in her nose. This was Tommy, her proud, vain Tommy Q, and he'd rather have a stranger help him in the bath than let her touch him. "If that's what you want," she said, her voice tight.

"It is," he confirmed softly. She nodded and turned away again as the tears started to fall, and she heard him whisper, "I'm sorry," as she walked back into the bathroom.

She stripped off her clothes and got into the shower where in another life they'd made love more times than she could count, and she let the water mix with her tears. Despite the pain of his rejection, she was still filled with a frustrated ache, and she was desperate to rid herself of it. She put a hand between her legs, trying to pretend they were his fingers inside her, trying to remember his eyes full of love and desire instead of with pain and anger. She came with a sob.