A/N: The story as a whole? Still T. This chapter? Definitely M.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Not even Bailey. And I realize she's more of a surgeon than an ER doc, but I fudged a little, because the idea of a Bailey/Scotty scene was simply too much fun to pass up.
Chapter Thirty-Eight: True Colors
But I see your true colors
shining through
I see your true colors
and that's why I love you
"What the hell did you do to your hand?" the stout black doctor asked as she yanked the curtain back, and Scotty winced when he realized that, to his horror, he knew this particular doctor. He'd encountered Miranda Bailey once before, in solving the murder of a surgical resident, and he didn't have fond memories of the experience. It had been in the interview room, on his turf, and she'd still almost gotten the best of him. But now…he was in her domain, in the cold sterility of the emergency room, and he felt even more helpless than before. Gritting his teeth, he forced a smile. Just get through this. Can't be that bad.
"Pickup game," he answered nonchalantly. "I think maybe it's jammed."
Dr. Bailey quirked an eyebrow at him, then applied gentle pressure to one of his swollen knuckles, just enough to make him grimace in pain and shoot her a murderous glare.
"Mm-hm," she replied, making a note in his chart. "Ain't jammed, I'll tell you that much."
A nurse came back in with his X-rays just then, and Dr. Bailey held them up to the light. "Ain't broken, either," she informed him, her tone surprised. She looked Scotty up and down once again, then continued. "You're damn lucky, you know that?"
Scotty nodded.
"'Cause don't think for a minute I don't know what you are. You're one of those damn fools who gets pissed off at somebody and thinks the best thing to do is start throwin' punches," she continued.
Completely and totally nailed to the wall, Scotty decided to attempt to salvage some scrap of what remained of his dignity. "Yeah, well…you should see the other guy," he quipped.
"There's no other guy," Bailey retorted, studying Scotty carefully as she prepared a hypodermic needle for an injection. "Injury like this comes from punchin' a solid object." At Scotty's startled look, she gently chastised him. "Don't look so surprised, Detective. You sure as hell ain't the first one of these I've seen, and you won't be the last."
Scotty eyed the needle uncomfortably. A shot. He hated shots. Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse…
"What the hell's that for?" he asked, hoping to cover his discomfort with a layer of defiance.
"Pain shot," she replied. "Trust me, you're gonna need it."
"I'm fine," Scotty insisted.
In response, Bailey gently pressed his knuckle again. Despite his efforts to hide it, he winced, and Bailey noticed. Of course she noticed.
"You sprained all four ligaments, genius. Badly. You think that hurts, you're gonna be cryin' like a baby when I splint this up," she informed him, and Scotty rolled his eyes and reluctantly acquiesced to the injection.
"I'll be back," she declared, then left him alone with his thoughts.
After a few minutes, the shot took effect, and, grudgingly, Scotty had to admit that it really did help. Now that there wasn't the searing pain in his hand to distract him, now that he'd cleared the air with Miller and wasn't suffocating under that particular load of guilt anymore, he was finally able to concentrate on Lilly…and Ellen.
By now, he was sure that Lil, who usually faced unpleasant tasks by blazing her way through them, had delivered the news to her mother. And, much as he ached to have been there with her, he knew she needed to do it alone. But now…now that it was over and done…now that Ellen had, no doubt, chosen vodka over her daughter one final, fatal time…now was when Lilly would need him. Scotty had no illusions that what he'd said to Ellen the night before had done any good. She'd been in a coma, and he knew that, had she been conscious, he probably wouldn't have had the courage to say three-fourths of the things he'd said to her. He probably would've urged her to consider going to rehab, he supposed, although, with a sinking heart, he realized that if the woman's own daughter, her firstborn, her flesh and blood, hadn't made any headway in that department, there wasn't a chance in hell someone she'd only met twice would be able to, either.
As Scotty tentatively wiggled his fingers and appreciated the increased range of motion he now had, he decided that the less Lilly knew about his outburst the night before, the better. He knew, from experience, that her past was something that was incredibly painful for her to talk about, and, he realized, now, he could relate. He didn't want to talk about it, either…not when the pain was so fresh, not when the anger was still so close to the surface.
Besides, who the hell knew what Lil would think if she did know? With a wry grin, he remembered her reaction the first time he'd exploded on her behalf, that time he'd punched out a suspect for looking at her like a damn piece of meat, a memory that still made his blood boil. She'd made it clear that she could fight her own battles, and he'd tried his damnedest, over the course of their relationship, to let her. And, he realized, if Kat's experiences and Lilly's history were any indication, meddling in business that really wasn't his and screaming pointlessly at a comatose alcoholic weren't exactly the best way to go about doing that.
Dr. Bailey returned then with a splint, and, as she fitted him with it, Scotty was suddenly glad he'd agreed to that shot, though it'd be a cold day in Hell before he ever gave Miranda Bailey the satisfaction of letting her know that. After accepting a prescription for painkillers and a firm directive to wear boxing gloves the next time he wanted to vent his anger on something made out of cement, he was out of the ER and heading up to Lilly's mother's hospital room.
He wasn't entirely sure what he'd be walking in on, though he supposed part of him hoped that his timing would be as brilliant as it had been the night before, when he'd arrived at the exact moment Lilly needed him the most. As he headed down the hallway, the possibilities raced through his mind. She could be numb with shock…hysterical with grief…furious with her mother…hell, he had no idea what to expect.
Upon reaching the room, Scotty knocked softly, then tentatively stepped inside. Ellen was still in bed, and appeared to be sleeping once more, though he wasn't entirely sure, because his eyes were inexorably drawn to Lilly.
She sat in the chair beside her mother's bed, puzzling over a stack of papers. When she heard him enter the room, she glanced up…and the look in her eyes made Scotty's heart stop beating entirely.
She wasn't looking at him with love, or grief, or anything else he thought he might find. Instead of the desperate adoration he'd seen the night before, or the quizzical annoyance from that morning…she'd put on that mask. That goddamn Ice Queen mask, where her eyes turned to glaciers and her heart was sealed behind concrete walls.
Scotty felt the blood drain from his face as he realized what that meant. She only gave him that look when she was furious with him. It had been weeks since he'd seen it, and the sick chill of dread washed over him as he guessed the probable reason for her anger. He could tell from her demeanor that she knew something, though he had no way of knowing what, exactly, or how much. His instincts, however, told him to deny whatever she accused him of. If he was already getting the Ice Queen stare from her now, what the hell would happen if she knew everything?
After regarding him suspiciously for a moment, Lilly rose from her chair, deposited the stack of papers on the tray beside her mother's bed, and crossed the room, her steps as clipped and professional as her voice when she spoke those words, those four little words that cemented, for Scotty, that absolutely nothing good could come from this.
"We need to talk," she announced as she swept past him out into the hallway.
Lilly stalked down the hall, hoping that the reluctantly trudging footsteps she heard behind her meant that Scotty was following her, but she couldn't turn around. Couldn't look at him. Not until she got everything under control. Not until she could face him with no emotion whatsoever, because that was the only way she could get to the truth.
Scotty's temper was something with which Lilly had been well-acquainted for years. Most times, especially in the interview room, he used it as another weapon in his arsenal. He was the bad cop, the aggressive one, the one who could put the fear of God into a suspect, and she was the good cop, the listening ear. It was part of what made them such a great team.
But sometimes…sometimes that anger got the better of him, and he'd lash out. Lose all control. Usually it was just a brief moment, but those brief moments could have devastating consequences. The blood on the wall was concrete evidence that he'd lashed out about something, and all the possible reasons and scenarios were whirling rapidly in her mind. She felt like she did at the beginning of a case, when the lists of possible suspects, and motives, were each a mile long. Usually, when she went into an interview with someone, she was cool, confident, prepared. She had her theories, and she'd present them logically, searching the person's eyes for any sign that she'd hit on the truth.
But this time, she wasn't cool. She wasn't confident. She wasn't prepared. Scotty had come back before any of her theories had had time to fully develop, and she was glad she wasn't facing him right now, glad he couldn't see the emotions swirling in her eyes.
And glad that there was an empty on-call room. After a couple glances down the hallway, she pushed open the door, then leaned against it almost defiantly, folding her arms across her chest, and allowed Scotty to enter first. With a quizzical glance, he did so, and she could feel his confusion and cluelessness as he walked past.
Good, she thought, with a hint of triumph. We're even.
Knowing that he'd been caught off-guard, that he was as perplexed as she was, made Lilly realize that she had the upper hand. She knew how he was feeling…but he didn't have a clue about her. And with that, she was able to shut the door, lock it with an ominous-sounding click, and turn to face him, knowing that in that moment, she wasn't Lilly. She wasn't his girlfriend. She was Detective Rush, Philly Homicide…and she was about to get some answers.
As she turned toward him, she met his eyes, and Scotty instantly felt a chill run down his spine at the same time a flush of heat washed over the rest of his body. Her icy glare never, ever failed to push his buttons, and the fact that she knew that, and was no doubt doing this on purpose, made his blood start to boil. He welcomed the anger, though; it would hide the fact that he was scared absolutely shitless that she'd find out what had happened. He had no idea what she'd do, but, based on the way she was looking at him, there was no way in hell it was good. A quick flash of panic surfaced, panic that this might even be the end, but Scotty beat it down with all the force he possessed. If she was going to be the Ice Queen, freeze him out for loving her, again, well, then that was just something he'd have to live with. Because he wasn't sorry.
His confidence renewed, at least momentarily, Scotty took a deep, shuddering breath and, with every ounce of defiant courage he had in him, met his girlfriend's gaze without so much as a flinch.
After a moment, her frosty eyes left his and glanced downward. "How's your hand?" she began tersely.
"Fine," he replied, instinctively folding his arms and burying his injured hand in the crook of his elbow. So help him, he wasn't going to give an inch. Not when she was being Detective Rush and looking at him like a damn suspect.
"Oh, they put splints on hands that are perfectly fine these days?" she almost snapped, and Scotty narrowed his eyes and fought to keep that muscle in his jaw from twitching.
"Sprained it," he shot back, his voice low and threatening. "All four ligaments. Doc says it's damn near broken. You happy?"
Damn near broken…for the love of God, Scotty, why? What set you off? What got to you so badly that you punched the wall? Lilly wondered, her heart suddenly filling with compassion.
Goddammit, focus, Rush. Compassion was the last thing she needed to be feeling right now. She was flying solo with this interrogation. There was no good cop, bad cop this time. She was it.
Scotty thought he'd seen something flicker in her eyes, something deeply personal, but before he even had a split second to consider it, she was back to examining him with that cold blue glare.
"They give you any painkillers?" she asked. She needed Scotty to have a clear head if she was going to interrogate him. Needed to know that he knew what was going on.
"Gave me a shot before they bandaged it up," he replied, still not giving an inch. "Not that I needed it," he couldn't resist adding.
Lie number one, Lilly tallied. "That the kinda shot that'll make you loopy?" she fired back, narrowing her eyes to scrutinize him.
I wish, Scotty retorted inwardly, but he looked her in the eyes defiantly. "Nah," he replied.
"Good," she snapped. She looked away and paced for a couple seconds, then turned her gaze back on him, the anger suddenly gone, her tone light, though Scotty couldn't miss the deadly serious undercurrent.
"So…" she began. "You and my mom seemed to be havin' some fun this morning."
Scotty almost sighed with relief. This morning. When he was being nice. When it didn't hurt quite so much. He could handle this morning.
"You could say that," he answered, with an almost casual shrug.
"What'd you talk about?" she pressed.
Scotty shrugged again. "Nothin'," he replied.
"Nothin', huh?" Lilly scoffed. "So how'd you hurt your hand? All that nothin' a little too much for you?" She reached for his hand, but he took a couple giant steps backward, his eyes flashing with sudden defensiveness. His hand was definitely a sore point, she realized, and it wasn't just physical.
"Ted Smith's a pain in the ass," Scotty declared. It was the truth. He was.
"Maybe," Lilly conceded coolly, "but you didn't hurt your hand hitting him. It was fine when I saw you last night."
Dammit. He hadn't expected her to shoot holes in his lie before he even fed it to her. After, yes, but not before.
"I'll ask again," she continued, her voice level. "What happened in there with my mom?"
"I could ask you the same question," he retorted. "How's she doin'? You tell her yet? She even still alive?"
Lilly flinched, and Scotty was instantly filled with regret when he saw the brief flash of pain in her eyes. He'd hit a nerve, and he knew it, but damned if he could stop himself.
Quickly, she installed the mask once more and ignored his question. "She tell you stories?" Lilly pressed. "Show you pictures?"
Pictures. Scotty shuddered involuntarily as memories began to surface, memories of what he'd seen the night before, of ten-year-old Lilly running for her life…
Stop it, Valens.
Lilly saw the change in his demeanor, saw the flicker of fear in his dark eyes, and knew she'd hit on something. Her heart began to race as she realized that perhaps he'd read more into the picture than she first guessed, and she pressed on, narrowing her focus.
"There was this one picture…left out on the tray," she said, almost casually, watching him for any hint of a reaction. "Me with Mom and Chris. Did Mom show you that?"
Scotty shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but Lilly saw his eyes darken further with a curious mixture of anger, trepidation, and…was that pain? Yes, she was sure of it. He'd seen the picture, and, from the looks of it…he'd put two and two together. He'd figured out the significance of Ellen's hastily-scrawled notation on the back.
"Picture? Dunno what you're talkin' about…she musta pulled that out after I left," he replied, his voice light, but his eyes suddenly ebony and glittering with something almost dangerous. Oh, Lilly knew that look. It meant he was lying through his teeth…and it meant she was getting close. She'd seen it in doers' eyes hundreds of times…but she was quickly discovering how heart-wrenching it was when it came from Scotty instead. She was tempted to stop, to let him off the hook, but she pushed on. She needed to know exactly what had happened.
"I know you saw it," she said, reading the truth in his eyes. "Did she show it to you? Talk about that Easter? What'd she say to you, Scotty?" she pressed, her voice rising with each syllable.
"I dunno what you're makin' such a big deal about," he said defensively. "I came in, slept in the chair, made small talk with the nurses, and then your mom woke up and started tellin' stories." He glanced at her, mischief mingling with all the other emotions in his eyes and a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. "Never woulda figured you for the Velveteen Rabbit type, Lil. Me, I was more of a Dr. Seuss man myself."
Scotty got exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for, which was a brief flash of anger that had nothing to do with her interrogation of him…but he was wholly unprepared for what she said next.
"Look," she began, fixing him with a glare so frigid that the one he'd seen before was positively balmy by comparison. "That picture? I've never seen it before. After you left this morning, the nurse came back in with my mother's insurance card, which she says you dug out of her wallet. There's an empty plastic sleeve in there where the picture used to be. And...oh, yeah. There's a bloodstain on the wall that's exactly the size of your fist. I send that stain to the lab, what do you think they'll find?"
Oh, shit, he thought. Evidence. Actual, solid, hard evidence. Most of the time, since their cases were so old, evidence was difficult to come by, so they hardly ever had any. It usually didn't matter, because they frequently got confessions without it, and when they needed evidence, they could always make some up. But he'd forgotten how damning fresh evidence could be. He'd forgotten that he'd left his blood on the wall, forgotten that the photo was still out, forgotten everything except the searing pain in his heart that had wiped out all thought of anything and everything else.
He was close to the edge, and Lilly could sense it. He suddenly had that hunted look that doers got in their eyes right before they spilled everything. She could almost taste his confession, which was why it knocked her back on her heels when his eyes hardened into two pieces of obsidian and he glared at her. It was a cold, almost emotionless glare, one that, quite frankly, frightened her a little. She very rarely saw that from him. The cold glare...that was her thing. Scotty didn't do that. He was fire, she was ice. That's how they were. For him to turn cold and hard...
And with that, she realized that they'd reached a point that confessions never did. Scotty wasn't a doer, he was the man she loved. There was only one way to get through to him.
Dropping the mask, she took a step forward and gently reached for his injured hand.
"Scotty…what happened?" she asked, her voice tender and loving, and despite his best efforts not to, he met her gaze.
In a split second, he wished he hadn't.
The icy mask was gone. Instead, her eyes were full of concern and confusion and a thousand other things, and with that knowledge, Scotty realized that he was utterly defeated. She wasn't Detective Rush anymore...she was Lilly. The woman he loved. And he could fight Detective Rush...but he didn't stand a chance against Lil.
Especially not when a frown touched her delicate features, and then the look in her eyes changed. A flicker of fear suddenly pricked their sapphire depths, and that fear perfectly mirrored what he'd seen in his mind's eye the night before, when he'd first seen ten-year-old Lilly. He wasn't sure what she was afraid of now, but whatever it was, it caused all the repressed emotions, all the rage and the sorrow and everything else, to crash through him like a wave, and, for the second time in two days, he was powerless against them.
"Don't touch it!" he roared, yanking his hand back, and Lilly jumped. She'd seen the defeat in his eyes, just for a second, but she hadn't expected his outburst. It was so sudden, so violent, that it caught her utterly off-guard, and she silently chastised herself. Detective Rush never so much as flinched. But, she suddenly realized, she wasn't Detective Rush anymore, she was Lilly. Wholly and completely Lilly. And this wasn't just some suspect...this was Scotty.
"That look?" he continued, gesturing in her direction. "That look I see in your eyes, right now. That fear, that panic…that's what happened. It happened to you, and I finally figured it out."
His expression was wild, his breathing rapid, and Lilly could only stare, wide-eyed. She'd seen Scotty explode, dozens of times, but this was different. Quickly, she flashed through all the times she'd seen him lose control, and she couldn't come up with anything even close to this. Most of the time, the anger hid his pain, at least, hid it to the extent that only someone who knew him like she did could see it. But this time, it was out there. His heart was open and broken and bleeding before her, the anguish barely concealed, his fury just a flimsy covering for it.
"Scotty," she began, but he cut her off, and, frankly, she was relieved. She had absolutely no idea what the hell she would've said, anyway.
Scotty's eyes were dark and flashing fire. "I saw that picture, Lil. I saw it. And you were so beautiful, and so young, and you looked so happy, and I'm sittin' there thinkin' maybe it wasn't all that bad," he broke off, chuckling bitterly, before he continued. "But then I turned it over. You know what I saw?" he asked rhetorically.
Though she knew exactly what he'd seen, Lilly couldn't have answered if her life depended on it.
"I saw the date, Lil," he said, his voice suddenly soft and strained around what was no doubt a lump in his throat. "Easter '79. And then...I saw it. I saw you out that night...saw you runnin'...saw him chasin' you...heard you scream, Lil. I saw it all."
"Scotty," she began again, her voice full of compassion. "I'm...not that girl anymore."
He stared at her for a moment, peering deep into her eyes, then shook his head with a slight smile. "Coulda fooled me," he said softly.
Lilly blinked, wanting with all her heart to argue, but quickly realizing that she couldn't…and she also knew, with a sinking heart, that Scotty knew that.
"And that…that's all...'cause of her," he continued, gesturing angrily in the direction of Ellen's hospital room. "That pathetic excuse for a mom...She never picked you, Lil, not once. Never picked you over the booze. You were always runnin' second to that bottle of vodka. God, Lil, she threw you to the wolves for a drink!" His voice broke on the last word, and he stopped, struggling to breathe. Lilly tried to speak again, but still, no words would come.
"I dunno how you do it," he continued, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "I just...that pain I felt, when I knew what she did to you, when I finally got it...that hurt worse than just about anything I ever been through in my life, and you...you carry that around with you every day, Lil, every goddamn day, knowin' she never loved you like she should, knowin' she sold you out...and I dunno how you do it. I don't. 'Cause when it hit...I couldn't take it. I ain't that strong. You wanna know why there's blood on the wall, that's why."
Lilly continued to watch in stunned silence as he looked away from her and pressed his lips together in a tight line to stop them from trembling, and as he fought to regain his composure, she knew. She knew. Scotty and his Superman routine...she'd always thought it was about him, about his pride, about his insecurities, about proving something to the world, and to himself...but that wasn't it at all. He ached to save the world...because watching the people he loved suffer was more pain than he could bear. That was why he'd fixated on George after she'd told him about the attack...he simply couldn't handle the rest yet. He couldn't accept that she'd suffered like that at the hands of the person who was supposed to love her more than anyone else. But now, he'd finally seen it. He finally understood. He finally saw her for who she really was...and, she realized, she was finally seeing him.
"I couldn't let her do it, Lil," he continued, his voice trembling. "I couldn't let her take the easy way out." He was getting angry again, she knew it, could sense it building with each word, each syllable. "Couldn't let her give up on you. After all the hell she put you through, for her to just… just check out on you, to pick booze over you one last time? I couldn't let her. I just…couldn't. So I told her that. I told her how much she hurt you, how much she's gotta make up for, and I told her I wouldn't let her quit on you. 'Cause you deserve more, Lil. So much more. And I can only give you some of it. She's gotta do the rest. I can't make up for what she did to you...but I thought maybe she could. I got no use for her…I got nothin' for her except hate for what she did to you. But you...you need her. You need your mom. You need her to sober up and pick you for once, just once. One goddamn time, Lil, you over the booze, just once!" He was shouting now, pacing the floor and raking his left hand through his hair. Finally he stopped, took a deep, shuddering breath, and met her eyes, his gaze dark and glittering with pain, anger, and sudden, unexplained fear.
"Was I nice about it? No. Did I completely lose it in there? Hell, yeah. Did I wanna kill her myself? I ain't proud of it, but...yeah, I did. Do I regret a word I said? Hell, no. I can't take watchin' her hurt you again. If you can't live with that, if that's some kinda unforgivable sin with you, then...fine. That's just the way it is. 'Cause maybe you can take her shit for the resta your life, but I can't watch. I can't just stand there and watch you get hurt over and over and over. And someone needed to tell her that. Someone needed to tell her how bad she screwed you, how goddamn much she hurt you, Lil. So..." he finished with a shaky sigh, "…that's what happened."
Lilly stood there in stunned silence as thoughts rapidly tumbled over themselves. She'd known something had happened...but she never could have imagined this. Seeing him like this...so wounded, so broken, and knowing both that it was a shadow of what it surely must have been the night before...and that it was because of her, because of the fact that he finally understood her pain, and not only understood it, but felt it in his own soul, and then tried to do something about it...it took her breath away. Scotty had fought for her. This was a battle she'd never been able to win on her own, but he'd stepped in and somehow reached into the abyss where her mother was and yanked her out with the brute force of their now-shared pain. He'd done what she'd longed to do for decades, but couldn't, because deep down, she loved her mother too much. But Scotty didn't. Scotty didn't even know her. All he knew was how much pain Ellen Rush had caused the woman he loved, and he'd lashed out as only he could...but somehow, some way, that had been exactly what was needed.
And suddenly...suddenly the anger and the frustration she'd felt since that morning disappeared as a wall of love slammed into her with so much force it nearly knocked her off her feet. She stood there, watching him...his face flushed with emotion, his eyes blazing with anguish and righteous indignation, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his ragged breathing...and she realized she had never loved him more than she did at this moment.
Nor had she ever wanted him more than she did at this moment, she realized, as the love bubbled over into a volcano of desire. She'd never known a fire like this before; it threatened to utterly consume her. Just the sight of him was making it hard for her to breathe, and the faint whiff of his aftershave, along with the heat she could feel radiating from him, was making her suddenly dizzy. Every cell in her body was screaming for his touch, his kisses, the way he completely possessed her every time they made love. She needed him in a way she'd never known.
Scotty finally dared to meet her eyes, and what he saw mystified him. Gone was the icy mask, and the frightened look he'd seen when he exploded was also tossed by the side of the road. Instead was a fire, blazing wildly, its heat almost burning him. He wasn't quite sure what it was about, but he didn't have time to think, because in a split second, she'd closed the gap between them, pressed him against the cabinets, and begun to devour his lips in a ravenous kiss while she fumbled frantically with his belt buckle.
As soon as her mouth crashed against his, Lilly was completely lost to the onslaught of love and desire. It took Scotty a second to respond, as she'd known it would. She sensed his hesitation, felt him tense briefly and knew he was wondering what the hell hit him, but when she finished with his belt, it was as though a switch flipped, and he went from being clueless to being intentional in a matter of seconds. He spun them both around, pressing her to the cabinets and returning her kisses with almost bruising ferocity, stopping only to strip off her shirt and gaze deeply into her eyes for a second before returning to her lips with a delighted moan.
His libido was firmly in the driver's seat, the desire shooting flames throughout his body, long before his conscious mind was even able to fully comprehend what was happening. Before he knew it, he was feeling a cool rush of air as his clothes were practically torn from his body, and in the blink of an eye, he was flat on his back on the bed, gasping for breath as he watched Lilly hastily finish undressing, his eyes roving greedily over her curve, and then she perched on top of him, smothering him with kisses and sliding herself onto him.
"God, Lil," he groaned in amazement.
Lilly cried out with pleasure as she brought him inside her, and as she began to move, her heightened senses responded to absolutely everything he did; every stroke of his tongue around hers, every touch of his hands on her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, the way he met her thrusts. Her heart hammering frantically, she gasped his name and then lowered herself down to tenderly assault that spot behind his ear that always drove him wild.
Holy mother of God...she'd found his favorite spot, was starting to trace circles there with her tongue, and that combined with what she was already doing to him nearly sent him over the edge. He wanted to warn her how close he was, wanted tell her he couldn't hold on much longer, but all he could manage was a desperate moan as he clung to her waist and silently begged her for mercy. She was doing everything he loved, everything he always wanted, and she was absolutely torturing him with it. It had never built this fast, been this intense, and for a brief moment, he was almost scared by it; scared by how excruciatingly good it felt, by the way his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might actually leap out of his chest, by the sudden, frantic onslaught of passion from Lilly. She'd never been like this before, and he wasn't sure what the hell it all meant, but it just felt so damn good that he couldn't think, or breathe, or do anything else. All he could do was grit his teeth against the tidal wave of pleasure that was just around the corner, hoping, praying, that somehow, some way, she'd finish before he did.
Lilly heard his moan, felt him starting to tremble, and through the blinding haze of her own need, she sensed his desperation and hastily sought to reassure him. She hadn't meant for him to wait on her… but one look at him told her he hadn't quite gotten that yet.
"Scotty," she whispered breathlessly in his ear. "Don't wait."
His eyes flew open in surprise, not sure he'd heard her right over the roaring of his pulse in his ears, but at the look that shone from her face, he knew what she'd said. He wanted to thank her, wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but words wouldn't form. Words, thoughts, anything coherent… they were all long gone in an explosion of bliss, the likes of which he'd never known.
Lilly saw the brief flash of gratitude in his eyes before he closed them, arched back into the pillows, and unleashed a primal, throaty cry of relief and ecstasy that thrilled her to her very core. Watching him, feeling him pulse rhythmically inside her, was the last piece of the puzzle for her, and she shrieked his name as she shot into orbit on a wave of pleasure so intense she wasn't sure she'd survive it, but she never, ever wanted it to end.
Finally floating down from the stars, she collapsed on top of him, panting words of love, and for a few moments, neither of them could speak. All they could do was cling to each other, gulp air greedily and wait for the world to stop spinning.
Soon, however, Scotty regained the power of speech, and the curiosity that had been shoved to the side when she attacked him resurfaced and demanded to be voiced.
"Lil?" he asked, still a bit breathless. "What the---?" That was all he could manage, and he glanced down at her, hoping his eyes would convey the rest.
Lilly smiled, then rolled on top of him. She knew she owed him an explanation, knew he had millions of questions swirling around in that mind of his, but…that could wait. She ran her hands over his slick chest and bent down to kiss him again, tasting heat, the salty tang of sweat, and the wonderful spicy flavor of Scotty himself.
Scotty's eyes closed in bliss once more, and he was tempted to let her have her way with him again, sorely tempted, but he needed answers first. She'd interrogated the hell out of him earlier, and it was his turn, dammit.
He rolled them over and pinned her arms over her head, holding himself above her just high enough that her lips couldn't reach him, and he smirked at the frustrated glint in her blue eyes.
"I got questions, woman," he informed her. "And I ain't backin' down."
Lilly beamed at the mischievous gleam in his eyes. God, she loved him. She couldn't believe how much. Now that he'd told her what he'd done, and why…she'd never been more deeply moved in her life.
"Thank you," she breathed. "Scotty…thank you."
Scotty's grin widened as he took in the beauty of that radiant smile, awash in relief that, with that smile, with the love shining from her eyes, there was no way in hell this was the end. Emboldened by that realization, he leaned down to kiss her, ending it just when she reached the point of surrender.
"You're welcome," he replied, rolling off of her, "but…I gotta admit I really didn't do much this time."
Lilly giggled and playfully swatted him as she flipped onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow, her hair spilling around her glistening shoulders and her eyes shining with adoration.
"Didn't mean the sex," she retorted, and Scotty responded with a pout, which caused her to giggle again. "Although the sex was…" she trailed off, still blown away by the intensity of what they'd just shared.
"Yeah," he admitted huskily, trailing a hand over the satiny sweep of her hip and feeling the desire blooming within him once more. Focus, Valens.
Lilly suddenly turned serious, though he was relieved to see that she was still looking at him with that deep, intensely loving gaze.
"My mom…she's talkin' about rehab, Scotty," she informed him, and Scotty froze, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Rehab?" he repeated blankly. "Like…twenty-eight days, twelve steps, actually gonna quit drinkin'… rehab?"
"She told me…that she'd try," Lilly said, her voice wavering slightly. "Scotty, she's never said that before. And she called…what happened to me…an attack. She's never said that before, either," she continued, eyeing him to gauge his reaction.
Scotty was utterly dumbfounded. He'd completely lost it in there the night before, gone to an abyss of pain and fury that he'd never before visited and had no desire to visit again…and he'd held no illusions that Ellen Rush had heard anything he'd said, but…maybe…holy crap, maybe she had. But, Scotty realized, whether what he'd said had been the key or not, Ellen was different. Lilly was different. Something good had come of whatever the hell had happened in that coma.
He looked at Lilly, saw the love and gratitude shining from her face…oh, holy mother of God, it had been worth it. All the pain, the immeasurable rage, his sprained hand, whether that was what had made the difference or not…he'd do it all again. He'd do anything for her to look at him like that.
As he continued to study her, he saw tears suddenly filling those beautiful blue eyes, and he frowned in confusion. Hastily, she moved to reassure him, though she could barely speak around the lump in her throat.
"Scotty," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "you…fought for me. Nobody's ever…" she trailed off, unable to continue.
"I know," he said softly. He brushed away the lone tear that had managed to spill onto her porcelain cheek, then gave her a tender, almost reverent kiss.
Frantically, Lilly searched her mind for the right words, the words to say how much what he'd done had meant to her, how for the first time, she felt secure in the love of another person, how she wanted this to last forever, but the power of speech deserted her, save for one word.
"Thanks," she said simply, knowing that it wasn't nearly enough, hoping that the emotion that filled her voice and her gaze would suffice. Her eyes never leaving his, she lifted his injured hand and softly kissed his fingers. "I love you," she added. "So much."
Scotty looked deep into her eyes, reading the adoration and gratitude that shone there, and he could have stayed like that forever, basking in the sunshine of her love, knowing that finally, thank God, finally, he'd managed to do some good for someone he loved. He smiled at her tenderly, brushed away a stray tendril of blonde hair, and kissed her softly.
"I love you, too, Lil…and, you're welcome," he replied, then rolled her over again, capturing her lips in another, deeper kiss.
She frowned up at him, twining her arms around his neck.
"Well, I got some thankin' of my own to do, y'know," he said by way of explanation, his eyes darkening with lust.
"Do you?" she repeated, a suddenly mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"Oh, yeah," he answered huskily, trailing kisses down the center of her throat, relishing the way she purred with delight. "And I think I got a pretty good idea where to start."