Wincing, Emma sat up on the trainer's table and watched as more and more ice was wrapped around her hip and her thigh. Sighing at the instant relief that it provided, Emma hopped off the table and waved to the athletic trainer with a smile, knowing that Trent would insist on looking at the hip the next time that she saw him, or better yet, Jamie would just put the joint back into place for her. Walking quickly to her car, Emma limped and tried to move every which way to try and prevent her hip from aching and her toes from rubbing against the inside of her shoe, she definitely tore a toenail or two.
Pulling up the familiar street, Emma cursed when she saw the cars parked along her driveway. Sonny's souped up pickup truck, along with Trent's SUV meant the entire team was at her house. Great, it was poker night, just what she needed. It wasn't that she didn't love the boys, they were her family after all. But there were times when a girl just needed some alone time, especially when they were going to act like a bunch of mother hens over a displaced joint. Lord help her when she mentioned she ripped her toenail off, they would be apoplectic.
Twisting the door open, Emma was surprised to see Jamie sitting down next to Trent, but they had gotten a lot closer since they patched her and Hannah up together. It would be good for Jamie to have someone in his life that was a proper role model, not just someone who would use him for his political career like his own father. Dropping her bag by the door, Emma limped her way into the kitchen, raising a hand to wave to the boys, hoping that they were a little too drunk to watch her very closely. Dropping a quick kiss to Clay's cheek, she tried to hide her left hip from view as much as possible, hoping that they would just ignore the ice.
No such luck apparently.
"Emmie K, you good over there?" Jamie said, placing his cards down on the table, peering around to try and get a better look at her.
"I'm fine Jamie, just popped the SI out," Emma said calmly, taking a sip from her water bottler before peeling the saran wrapped bag of ice off of her hip. "Pretty sure there's a toenail or two that I ripped off as well."
"What do you mean, you're pretty sure? You either ripped them off or you didn't." Jamie said confused, getting up from his chair, walking over to the island to look at her more closely. Clad in leggings and a purple tank top, Jamie could clearly see the sweat stains on the shirt and the sports bra she wore underneath it, rehearsal had definitely taken its toll on her this afternoon.
"I haven't exactly taken the shoe off to look, it's bleeding for sure, but if it's torn I don't know. You know I'm a baby when it comes to this kinda stuff," Emma admitted, not looking at anyone. Even pivoting on her feet made her hip hurt, the joint was definitely out of place.
"Emma, what do you mean you tore off your toenail?" Brock said horrified, looking around the table at his brothers. Why on Earth would she ever know about that particular brand of torture. And why was she talking about it like it happened every day, Curling his toes inside his boots, Brock hoped that he would never get to know what that sensation felt like, not as long as he lived.
"And what in the everloving hell is an SI?" Sonny added, gesturing with his beer bottle. His sunshine didn't look hurt, she was sweaty and looked tired, but not beaten.
"Em," Clay said gently, also rising from his seat after a long look from Jason.
"Guys, it's fine. Rehearsal was just rough today, I'm sore. It's like when you go and have a hard workout and complain that your abs hurt the next day," Emma placated. The boys were getting riled up for no reason, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with their overprotectiveness at the current moment. "Dancing for that long, combined with repetitive movements can cause the toenail to fall off, it's not normal, but it can happen and it has happened to me before. SI is just a fancy word for a joint in your pelvis, I have problems with mine, Uncle Sonny. And it slips out from time to time, especially if the asshole you're dancing with drops you, repeatedly."
"Were you working on showcase stuff?" Jamie asked, laughing internally at the way Emma managed to wrangle six fully grown men with a few sentences. It really was quite impressive that they all managed to be quiet and listen at the same time, without interrupting. She definitely had a gift, a frogman whisperer.
"Yes and right now? It's a hot mess express and will not be ready by next week by the time I have to perform for this stupid class. I'm going to shower, will you put my SI back into place when I'm done?" Emma said exasperatedly. She wanted to wash the day off and the longer she stood still, the more her hip hurt.
Jamie nodded, and offered his hand to help her, but Emma waved him off, inching her way up the stairs to her shower. The boys were quiet once they heard the sound of the water turn on, but a knock at the door had them jumping once more.
Jason sighed, emptying his beer. It wasn't going to be good if someone was knocking at this hour and they were all too drunk to even think about being spun up right now.
"Hannah?" Definitely not the person that Jason thought he was going to see on the other side of his door that evening. Better than being spun up, he supposed.
"Hi Uncle Jason, Emma forgot to try on her costume at school, is she home yet?"
"Yeah, she's showering. You can go on up and wait for her if you'd like, I'm sure she won't be much longer. She looked like she had a rough rehearsal though."
Nodding happily, Hannah walked up the steps, smirking. Emma was going to flip.
Luxuriating in the steam of her shower, Emma was starting to feel slightly more human than when she walked in the door. Turning the knob of her shower off, Emma slipped into her pajamas, towel drying her hair when she walked into her bedroom, smack into Hannah. "Hannah?" Emma said, surprise coloring her tone. She had just seen her at school, and she didn't mention that she was coming over at night.
"Hi, you left before I could come find you. I have your showcase costume for you to try on," Hannah tried to contain the smirk on her face, but was failing epically.
"You know Jamie's here right?" Emma asked, not knowing if they had talked or not. Jamie was set to deploy in a few days, and the relationship between the two of them was anything but settled the last time that Emma had spoken with Hannah.
"I know, it's ok. We're working on it."
Emma studied her face, looking for any sign of dishonesty, finding none. "Ok, let me get Jamie to look at my hip and my toe, then I'll come try it on." Limping down the stairs with Hannah on her other side, Emma nodded at Jamie, bypassing the table and going straight for the couch.
"Alright Emmie K, let's put your hip back in. Clay you want to give me a hand?"
Clay looked at him in surprise, he didn't have the most medical training, surely Trent would be a better option. "Uh, sure?"
"It's because you're the most sober, Clay," Emma explained, watching as the rest of Bravo crowded around the couch. They might not acknowledge it, but Clay was the least likely to drink any beer when they were all together, making him the perfect DD. And in this case, the perfect person to help put her hip in place.
"Alright Em, deep breath in, then push in. When I say, let the breath out and I'll pop it back into place. Clay, wanna hold her hand? Not going to be the most comfortable thing in the world."
Clay nodded, taking her hand, squeezing gently. Emma had a high pain tolerance, that much he knew, but to walk around with a dislocation, no matter how slight, took balls. "Squeeze as tight as you want, ok Em?"
Emma nodded, her eyes softening when she looked up at him. "I'm good, Jamie."
It took a few tries and several tears, but all of the men sighed in relief when they heard the familiar pop of the joint being set. While Emma was breathing through the pain, James took a peek at the toenail that was sluggishly bleeding. It was bruised, and would most likely come off at some point, just not right now. "Em, the nail's gonna come off, but I don't think you tore it, just bruised it pretty good."
"Thanks Jamie," Emma said, sitting up on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest.
"Always Emma Kate, makes me wonder who's gonna be putting you back together when I deploy?" James teased. How this girl had survived without her own personal medic was a miracle, the amount of scrapes she managed to get herself into on a daily basis was impressive.
"That responsibility falls to ol' Trent over there, buddy," Sonny interrupts. "Gents, now that Sunshine is fixed up, let's go back to our game, I'm one hand away from winning Ray Perry's pride." Sonny cackled, leading the rest of his brothers back to the kitchen table. Clay hangs back, not really wanting to leave her if she's still in pain.
"I'm fine, Clay. Go, I'll still be up by the time you leave," Emma said, kissing him gently. While she would love to spend the rest of her evening with her boyfriend, he needed time with his brothers too, away from the guns and the fighting and the stress of the job.
Turning to Hannah, Emma twisted on the couch to take the garment bag from her, a pit forming in the bottom of her stomach. "Oh hell no, Hannah what the fuck is this?" Emma pulls out the costume, if it could really be called a costume. It was a short black halter style dress with a slit up the side, sparkly and not much fabric
"Your showcase costume," Hannah said trying to stifle her giggles. She knew that this wasn't going to go over well when she saw the costume come out of the box… Emma was just going to have to deal with it.
"No, this isn't a costume. It looks like underwear," Emma says, blood draining from her face. She was going to have to sing and dance, on stage, wearing underwear, in front of everyone. In front of her father. In front of Clay. Oh fuck no.
"Just try it on Em, the showcase is next week and if we have to take it in, I'd rather know about it now."
Emma bites at her lip, grabbing the costume, stalking to the downstairs bathroom. While the dress, if you could call it that, was comfortable and fit her nicely, she looked like a stripper. A bonafide stripper complete with the fishnets and all. "Hannah, I'm not wearing this, you could give me some glitter, call me Chastity Rose, and I could work down the street." Emma opened the door, realizing a split second too late that Hannah had her phone out, and was recording.
"Hannah, who did you send that to?" Emma panics, breathing fast.
"Just Jamie," she said giggling. Emma looked hot, and Jamie would get a kick out of Emma being shy, she normally didn't care what other people thought of her when she was performing, because it wasn't really Emma on stage.
"Jamie!?" Emma whispered yelled, hoping not to draw the attention of the boys to her and Hannah. "Dad's gonna kill him if he opens that, Clay is going to kill him"
There was a beat of silence before Emma grabbed a sweatshirt from the laundry bin in the bathroom and rushed into the living, diving for James' phone.
"Em, what's the matter?" Clay says, he's never seen his girlfriend act like this before, she's normally pretty calm, cool, and collected. About everything.
Emma ignores him, focusing on Jamie. "I need your phone."
Jamie holds it in his hands, finally seeing the notification on his phone. "Why?" he asks slowly, unsure of where this was going.
"Hannah, in all of her infinite wisdom, decided to take a snapchat of me in the showcase costume" Emma said, trying to take a deep breath. "Which I am not wearing, by the way," she shot over her shoulder towards Hannah.
"Ok, so why is this bad?" Jamie still didn't understand, she had pictures in her costumes all the time. Hell, James had personally taken quite a few of them when he had gone with Hannah to watch her perform.
"Because this costume has me half naked and looking like a stripper, give me your phone Jamie."
There was absolute silence from the room, as James' eyes went wide before practically throwing the phone at her, not wanting to see the snapchat she was talking about.
"Emma is exaggerating, she is not half naked." Hannah said to Jamie, reassuring the men in the room, laughing when they settled down again.
"Wait, Hannah took a snapchat of the costume, and you came charging in here two seconds later. Where's the costume?" Ray wondered. Emma was wearing a sweatshirt that came down past her butt, barely.
"Under the sweatshirt, Uncle Ray. I'm not wearing this on stage." Emma said firmly, glaring at Hannah, who was laughing silently, tears streaming down her face. "Hannah you just wait, I'm gonna get you back for this," Emma threatened darkly. She really had no say in what costume she wore, it was Hannah's senior project after all.
"Aren't you doing the Chicago number?" Jamie said, putting the pieces together from the stories that he heard from Hannah and the description of the costume.
"Yes, and I don't want to talk about it. This wasn't my choice, at all. And I'm not happy about it," Emma gave the phone back to Jamie, stalking back into the kitchen, changing from the costume back into her pajamas. It had been too long of a day and she couldn't even have any wine, it was definitely time for bed.
The boys all look at each other, shrug and go back to their game, surely Emma was exaggerating. She couldn't really be half naked on stage, they reassured themselves, there was no way.
The next week, six men jogged down the halls of the empty high school, trying to make it to the theater before the doors shut and performance began. They were sweaty and dirty, but they had made it back home before the showcase, they would consider that a win. Settling down in their seats at the back of the house, the men barely had time to glance at the program before the curtain opened, with Emma standing center stage, in a dress that was likely illegal in all fifty states.
Sonny rummaged in his shirt pocket, hoping he had stashed a toothpick in there at some point. Finding one, he slots it between his teeth, chomping down erratically. Why did he choose to come tonight? He moaned internally. He definitely did not need to see his sunshine dressed like that, and holy hell moving her hips like that. Oh Lord.
Ray squeaked in surprise, covering his eyes with his hands. The dress she was wearing wasn't much longer than the sweatshirt she wore the last time that they had seen her, only this was much more form fitting and, was that a slit at the back? At least she wearing tights, those had to cover something right?
Trent coughs, sputtering slightly. Turns out Emma really wasn't kidding when she said that she was half naked. Watching her dance, you would never be able to tell that she had hip problems, but knowing Emma as well as he did, she was in pain and just wasn't showing it while she was performing. Closing his eyes, Trent listened to Emma sing, happy that at least he could enjoy one part of her performance without feelings like a complete pervert. That was his niece after all.
From the moment the curtain opened and Brock saw Emma, his face was buried deep in the program hoping that it would take him the entire length of her performance to read cover to cover, hoping that when he was finished that Emma would have more clothing on. Glancing up, Brock ducked his head back down again. Nope, still not done yet. Scanning the page again, Brock noted that Emma was performing again later in the program, hopefully that would be a more appropriate number for them to all watch.
Jason looks over at Clay, Clay looks at Jason, immediately looking anywhere but Jason's face. Jason didn't know where to look, he couldn't look at the stage where his daughter was prancing around half naked but he couldn't look at Clay and see any emotion on his face. He didn't want to look over at Trent, sitting next to him, and looking over at Naima would only lead to more judgement. Sighing, Jason focused his gaze up at the ceiling, counting the tiles, praying that Emma would be done dancing soon.
Clay, on the other hand, couldn't look away, entranced by the movement on the stage. He knew that his girl was sexy beyond belief, but watching her up there, moving sensuously to the beat of the music was intoxicating. Just as she was being lifted in the air, Clay took a shuddering breath. He needed to control himself, it would not do well if Jason looked over at him and he was drooling over his daughter, no matter how attractive she was in that little black dress. Control, he repeated to himself , shifting in his seat. Maybe he could convince her to keep the dress later, and dance for him at home. But first, he needed some control.
The song finishes with Emma belting out the last note and the boys sigh in relief when the curtains close. Glancing at each other, the boys open their eyes and nod at each other, all uncomfortable watching Emma dance but wanting to support her. Hopefully the rest of the night would be more tame.
Just before the showcase ended the curtains opened again and Emma came out, this time in tight jeans and a purple blouse, hair free from the tight updo it was in previously, looking much more like herself. Standing next to the piano, the boys watched her relax into the music, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing, this was much more her style.
"Thank goodness, I can watch this one," Sonny said with a grin, leaning back in his seat to listen to his sunshine sing, goosebumps rising on his skin when her voice soared.
Clay sat back and watched Emma sing, laughing at some of the lyrics. Sonny always associated her with sunshine for her bright smile and bubbly personality, but Clay thought of her as the moon; constant, brilliant, ever changing. When she got to the end of the song, Clay got choked up, hearing her sing in her raspy sweet voice "He knows just what it does, when he's holding me tight, and he calls me moonlight too." Emma loved being Sonny's sunshine, but at the same time wanted to be her own person to Clay.
The audience was quiet for a moment before the cheers and clapping began, Emma still on stage looking uncomfortable at all of the applause. When the curtain closed for the last time and the lights flickered on, the boys filed out hesitantly, waiting for Emma by the stage door, only to be met by Hannah, looking frantic.
"I have never been so glad to see your face, can you go in to see Emma? She's upset," Hannah said, worrying the end of her hair with her fingertips.
Clay looked over to the boys, unsure of whether or not they wanted to see Emma. Jason answered his unspoken question, "Go, we'll see her tomorrow, let me know where you guys are headed."
Nodding, Clay jogged to the door that Hannah had just walked through, knocking before pushing the door open gently. Emma sat down at a table with a small mirror, head pressed into her hands.
"Emmie K?" Clay asked, sitting down in the chair next to her, putting his hand on the small of her back gently. "You ok?"
"No," Emma whispered, not even bothering to hide her distress.
"Want to tell me what's wrong? You were really good up there," Clay said, prodding.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," Emma said, face red. "I love singing, I love performing, I love being able to make people happy with my voice… But I don't like the way this made feel."
"How did it make you feel?" Clay longed to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but it would do nothing but put a bandaid over the wound, not fix the problem.
"Empty, I felt nothing Clay. How could I have something that used to give me so much joy, mean literally nothing to me. The only time I felt even a remote connection was when I sang 'Moonlight', but that was because I was thinking of you," Emma ranted, voice getting louder until she was shouting in frustration.
"I don't know how to make this better, Em. All I can do is support you. If you never want to sing again, that's fine with me babe. If you only want to sing in the shower and in the car, I'll gladly sing with you. This is your choice," Clay rubbed his hand up and down her back. Watching her stress out for the last week over this showcase was hard, and made even harder by the fact that he was several thousand miles away from her.
"You mean that?" Emma said, searching his face intently. For so long singing had been a part of the perfect girl image that she portrayed. She was the girl with a dad in the navy that sang and danced, it was a part of her identity that didn't quite seem to fit anymore.
"Em, whatever is going to make you happy, I'm going to support. Even if it is watching you dance in a tiny dress on stage sitting next to your father," he joked, nudging her with his elbow, hoping to make her smile at least a little bit.
Emma snorted, "I'm sure you liked that part best of all." Her eyes twinkled looking at Clay blushing next to her. "The best part of tonight is that I got to keep the dress." She winked, standing and groaning when her hip twinged.
"That is definitely a plus here babe," Clay nodded solemnly, lip twitching with a barely concealed smile. "Let's go back to your place, I'm sure the boys are all waiting for us, I wish you could have seen their faces when you came out on stage for the first time. I thought Sonny was going to have a stroke," Clay laughed, swinging his arm around her shoulders, carrying most of her weight against his body.
Clay didn't need a perfect girlfriend, because he wasn't perfect himself. He had parts of him that were ugly and rough around the edges. Parts that he didn't always want people to see, but Emma didn't care about that. She wanted him just the way he was, no excuses or changes needed. At the end of the day, Clay didn't need a girl with the voice of an angel or someone that always agreed with him, even if he was being an ass. He needed Emma, constant, brilliant, and ever changing. If he had her, life was good. Life was perfect.