A/N: Okay, this chapter is based on the episode "Bring It On Home," during season 5. Unfortunately, I can't find the script for the episode, so the dialogue will be off in parts. It'll be close, though. I hope.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light
–Evanescence, "Imaginary"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You are the dancing queen," crooned Abba through the record player. Plopping down on her living room couch, Jackie joined in, softly singing, "Young and sweet, only seventeen." The girl pulled the frayed pink afghan tighter around her slim body and propped her legs up on the sleek white coffee table in front of her. She sighed, and the hollowness of her voice echoed through the empty room.
It had been days since she'd seen anybody from the "basement gang," as she called it. (She never actually said it aloud, because Donna and Eric would laugh at her, and Steven would make some remark about it being dumb or childish.) The phone was becoming her enemy as well. It had emitted that screeching "bring bring" several times, and she had finally picked it up, annoyed. It had been Donna, asking, "Where have you been? Hyde's worried, you know. He's called like five times."
"Oh," Jackie had replied, secretly sort of pleased that Steven cared enough and would take the time to call her. But she simply made up an excuse about having the flu and looking like crap. "No one can come visit me, okay? I would die if anyone saw me like this."
She could only hope Donna would pass this order on to Steven.
It wasn't that she didn't want to see her boyfriend. She did. And half of what she told Donna was true--she did look shitty. She hadn't had the energy to put on makeup to cover up the dark circles under her eyes. Lately, she wasn't getting too much sleep. It was hard for her, when the house was completely empty. Call it "abandonment issues."
Mainly, though, she was just embarrassed. Her mother had left her, forgotten her. Her father was in prison. Her family...Well, Steven could probably understand. He would understand. He'd been through this too.
But she still couldn't face him.
Her stomach growled loudly. All she'd eaten for the past forty-eight hours was dry cereal, since she didn't know how to cook anything and the milk had spoiled. It wasn't as if she was a big eater before (she did, after all, have to keep her figure) but you could get really sick of eating the same thing for every meal, especially when it wasn't very appetizing in the first place. "Shut up," she muttered to her stomach. "Shut up."
"Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah," Abba was singing. Jackie leaned over and turned the volume up. "You can dance. You can jive. Having the time of your life."
She curled up on the couch with the ratty old afghan and squeezed her eyes shut. She just wanted to sleep...
...But she knew she couldn't.
After laying on the couch for perhaps five minutes, she jumped up suddenly and screamed, "DAMN IT!" She kicked the table, causing the record player to fall off of it and crash to the ground, silencing the music. "DAMN IT!" Her vision went blurry, and her hand fluttered up to her cheek, wet with tears. "Damn it, damn it, damn it." Jackie broke down sobbing.
She was SICK of this. The tears and the tiredness. The hunger. All of it.
She just knew it would all be fixed if she got a decent night of sleep.
The only problem was that she didn't know where to go. Donna's place would work, but what if--ew--Eric was there as well? And, like, naked or something? She could go to a hotel, she supposed, but that was expensive, and it didn't really solve her problem. She wanted to be near people. If she went to Fez or Michael, they'd just try to get in her pants. She just wanted a place where she felt safe.
There was always Steven.
But she didn't want to bother him at--she glanced at the clock on the wall--two in the morning. He was a pretty heavy sleeper, and he'd probably get pissed off. Or the door to the Forman's basement would be locked and she'd have gotten up for no reason. Plus, she was pretty sure it was raining out. Yeah, she could see it now: Showing up at the basement door, mascara running, freezing cold, then finding out that the thing was locked. Unfortunately, she'd be so exhausted or whatever and she'd collapse from pnuemonia. Then, Steven would find her in the morning, and she'd look all freaky or be dead or something.
No. She definitely couldn't go there.
But she certainly couldn't endure another night where she was. She couldn't take another trip past her parents' bedroom on the way to the bathroom. Jackie couldn't bear to look into the empty fridge again. She couldn't suffer through one more day of unoccupied rooms and creaky doors, all seeming to be laughing at her. Or haunting her. She didn't know which.
Would it hurt her as much as she imagined to just put herself out there, to tell Steven that she needed his help? Would the results be so disastrous?
Unlikely.
He'd been in trouble before, too. He'd been abandoned, too. He could...he would understand. He wouldn't laugh. He wouldn't turn her away. True, there was no guarantee he'd actually wake up.
But she had to try.
She had to get away.
Despite everything she'd been through, every strange insecurity she'd felt in the past few days, some habits, shallow as they were, were hard to break. These habits included painting her nails and putting on as much makeup as possible before visiting her boyfriend. And though it took almost every ounce of her energy, Jackie did manage to carry a theme of the color red throughout her eyeshadow, lipstick, and wardrobe decisions of a pair of jeans and a cute off-the-shoulder top. She didn't look her best, but she sure looked better than she had an hour earlier.
Quickly grabbing her pair of flannel pajamas and stuffing them in a bag, she headed back downstairs. As she walked towards the front door, she grabbed the first coat she could find, but since an umbrella was nowhere in sight, she figured she would have to do without.
Even if it meant her hair would go flat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steven Hyde, more often referred to by his last name than his first, was not happy. Sleep was one of the most important things in his life, and he really hated being forced out of such a serene state. In fact, it pissed him off.
And unless whoever was knocking on the door--in a way that was quiet enough to ensure the sound sleep of the Formans but loud enough to cause Hyde to peel his eyes open in aggravation and curse the air above his head–brought with them a present, preferably in the form of a certain plant, he was going to give them hell. iYes, lots and lots of hell,/i he thought, his mind groggy, as he noticed that it was a little after three. In the morning.
Hyde rolled out bed and hit the floor with a thud. "Ow," he muttered, straightening his pajama pants and grabbing a shirt to pull on over his bare chest. "This better be good..." he called to the basement door as he approached it. "Or else." The knob was slightly cold when he touched it, and the chill caused the hair on his arm to stand up, but he didn't hesitate as he swung it open–
–And came face to face with a beautiful brunette wearing a bright red shirt and matching lipstick. And hanging on her elbow was a large bag with a pattern of pink unicorns.
"JACKIE?" he said, his voice loud with surprise and disbelief.
"Hey," she replied, voice quivering slightly. "Can I come in?"
He stepped aside, letting her come through the doorway, and tried not to sound too curious when he asked, "Why are you here? Donna said you had the flu."
"Oh," she giggled, clearly trying to sound as if something wasn't weighing heavy on her heart. "I was just feeling bad. Anyway. I was just wondering if maybe I could stay here for the night?" She looked at him pleadingly through her eyelashes.
He frowned back at her. "But I thought..." he trailed off. She knew what he was trying to say. He thought she had said she wasn't ready to do "it" yet. She probably wouldn't be ready for awhile. And that he'd have to be okay with that.
Jackie turned noticeably red. "Not to...you know. I mean..." Her voice broke. "I just need somewhere to sleep." At his blank look she said, words flying out of her mouth almost too fast to understand, "But you know what? I'll just go somewhere else. Or I'll go home. Why did I come here anyway? I'm just being a baby. I can go home. It's fine. I--"
"Just shut up for a second," Hyde interrupted. "You need somewhere to stay because...?"
Now sounding slightly offended she said, "I just get spooked out in my house...all alone. With my dad, you know, in prison, and my mom off at a bar somewhere." As an afterthought, she exclaimed, "And I'm sick of cereal!"
"Okay," he agreed. "You can stay."
"Do you want me to go? I'll go."
"You can stay."
"Are you sure?"
"Jackie." He spoke slowly. "You can stay."
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "I'll sleep on the couch, too. I mean, would that be a good idea?"
"No." He cocked his eyebrow at her. "You can share my bed. It's not the most comfortable, but it's more comfortable than that damn couch. But you can't let anybody catch you down here. Especially Mrs. F. We'd both be in for a lecture that I really don't want to sit through."
Her eyes filled with tears and she rushed at him, encircling her arms around his waist. "Oh, Steven. Thank you."
Instead of pushing her away, Hyde stroked her hair and whispered reassuring words into her ear as she sobbed into his shoulder. It was an unusual display of affection, one he normally wouldn't participate in, but with Jackie it didn't feel so bad. It almost felt good. She was so warm, and she smelled so...
He shook himself out of his trance. "Come on. Let's go to bed." She nodded and followed him to his room where she collapsed on the bed, falling asleep instantly. She didn't even get the chance to change into her pajamas.
Hyde crawled into the bed next to her, twisting his body in uncomfortable positions, trying not to fall off. She was a bit of a bed hog. But he managed to finally get settled in a way that she wasn't elbowing him in any particularly...sensitive places, and he wasn't falling off. But just to keep his balance, he curled his arm around her waist tightly and hoped he wouldn't let go in his sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Morning came too soon for the young couple. It rushed through the room with the strength and speed of something that would always come, something consistent, something impossible to stop.
They did not awake at first. Hyde shielded his eyes from the glare of sunlight, and Jackie pressed herself closer to him. But soon murmured voices outside the door caused Hyde to sit up and mutter, "Shit."
"You awake in there?" Michael Kelso was wondering.
"Yeah," replied Hyde, voice scratchy. "I'll be out in a minute." He then gently shook Jackie's shoulder, whispering "Get up. Get up."
"Mmmmph." She cracked one eye open. "What?"
He forced himself not to smile. "It's morning."
"Oh." She tried not to sound too disappointed.
"You stay in here for five minutes. Unless you want them to know you're staying here." She shook her head no. "I'll get them to go upstairs or something, and then you can go home."
"Okay."
He got up and walked out the door. She heard muffled words, something about breakfast and refrigerator. A second later, there was the sound of at least three people going up the stairs.
Jackie stretched her arms out, and suddenly she felt her neck crack. "Ow." It definitely hadn't been the most comfortable sleep she'd ever had. The bed was small, too small for just one person, and much too small for two. Steven stole the covers from her several times in the course of the night, and the pillows were unbelievably lumpy.
And yet she had never felt more rested in her life.
As she walked out the door, she caught her reflection in a mirror. Her hair was a little tousseled and messed up, her eye makeup was smudged, and under her eyes there was still dark circles, although slightly less dark then they were the day before. Steven had seen her like this, looking disheveled and embarrassingly messy.
She couldn't seem to care.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If her life was a movie, this would be the part where she sat by the phone, looking stunning yet casual, as she flipped through the channels on the television. Her script would tell her to look bored, but also deeply sad. She would sigh, and there would be a montage of her rolling over and over and flipping through channels and looking at the phone–all of this to some great song that everyone knows. She would sigh and turn off the TV. Then, the music would quiet, and, on cue, the phone would ring. It would be Steven, telling her to be "at his place" (he would, of course, have his own apartment in her movie) at midnight.
But her life was not a movie. Sure she was watching TV, but she was semi-interested in the episode of Charlie's Angels that was airing. And although she was slightly bored, she wasn't exactly "deeply sad." She didn't keep staring at the phone. There was no worldwide hit of a song playing in the background. Just Farrah Fawcett's voice. And she knew very well Steven didn't have his own apartment.
Guess what? He also didn't call.
The was a great debate going on within Jackie. "Go there," one side of her urged. "He let you stay yesterday, so why not today? Plus you left your bag there. You could say you're there to get it."
"At almost one in the morning? You'll look like a child. Can't be alone in your own house. Boo hoo!" cried the other side.
"Weren't you happy in his arms? Do you really think you're gonna find that here, in this ghost town of a house?"
"The door was locked yesterday, remember? It'll probably be locked again. You were lucky he woke up then, but there's no guarantee he'll wake up now!"
"He probably left the door unlocked for you. Just in case."
The other side cackled. "Why would he do that? He doesn't care enough about you to be inconvenienced."
"He does too!"
"Does not, and you know it."
"Then why'd he let you stay, huh? If he didn't care?"
"Because he thought he was going to get some."
On and on it went, her heart battling her mind. She was split down the center, insecure, afraid, and simply wanting to be at the Formans', to be with Steven, to feel safe.
Of course! Jackie should just do what she wanted to. Even if it meant getting turned away or forgotten or laughed at. Even if the door was locked. Even if it felt like she was risking everything. Because in truth, she had nothing left to lose.
The girl-woman stood and strode purposefully to the door. It didn't take long to get to the Formans' house, and she crept silently over to where the basement door was.
Arm outstretched, she put her hand on the metal knob. Carefully, she turned it to the right and pushed it, hesitating slightly...
...And it swung open easily.
Which could mean only one thing: he'd left it unlocked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They didn't know how long it went on. A few weeks, probably. Long enough.
Every night at one a.m., Jackie would sneak through the basement door and into Hyde's room. Sometimes, he was still awake, but usually he was asleep and snoring lightly. She'd weasel her way under his arm and under the covers, and usually she'd manage to find a fairly comfortable position.
Every morning, once she'd grown accustomed to either getting up early enough to get out before anyone noticed she was theret or to sneaking out, with his help in creating a diversion, he would say, "Be careful tonight." He didn't want to get caught. She thought it was because he secretly didn't want to disappoint Mr. and Mrs. Forman again. She was happy to respect his wishes, especially considering that the first real disappointment he had brought upon the family was actually her fault.
But they knew deep down that they would get caught sooned or later. They just never imagined it would be like this.
"I told you to be careful," Hyde growled at her.
"What kind of an idiot leaves legos in front of the door?"
Eric, standing there in all his naked-under-a-sheet glory, burst out some Star Wars reference that Jackie didn't understand.
Mrs. Forman then began to lecture them. "The Christmas decorations are down there. Baby Jesus was watching."
"We didn't do anything. Jackie's just staying here because her dad's in prison and her mom's still gone," Hyde tried to explain.
"She is?"
"No," said Jackie, rushed. "I'm just here because...I am such a tramp."
They didn't know how long it went on. How long they had lain together, slept together, without ever actually having sex. Doing It. They didn't know how long they had shared a bed, limbs entwined, without taking it farther.
They knew that now it would have to stop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Donna let Jackie stay with her, after first being told she was too unpopular, and then having a heart to heart with Hyde, who explained that Jackie had just been embarrassed. And Jackie was happy to stay with her best friend, even if Donna wasn't quite so overjoyed.
But she would miss the security of having Steven's arm wrapped around her as she slept, and the feel of his breath on the back of her neck, and even the sound of his snoring.
She would never thank him for what he gave her, she already knew that. But she hoped that he would know the serenity he granted her, the solace she found in his embrace. The escape he gave her from the pain. Everything he'd unknowingly made her feel.
She hoped he would realize that his touch on her arm was like a drug, relieving all her pressures.
He did, after all, know quite a lot about that subject.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent nights
Oh how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light
–Evanescence, "Imaginary"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You are the dancing queen," crooned Abba through the record player. Plopping down on her living room couch, Jackie joined in, softly singing, "Young and sweet, only seventeen." The girl pulled the frayed pink afghan tighter around her slim body and propped her legs up on the sleek white coffee table in front of her. She sighed, and the hollowness of her voice echoed through the empty room.
It had been days since she'd seen anybody from the "basement gang," as she called it. (She never actually said it aloud, because Donna and Eric would laugh at her, and Steven would make some remark about it being dumb or childish.) The phone was becoming her enemy as well. It had emitted that screeching "bring bring" several times, and she had finally picked it up, annoyed. It had been Donna, asking, "Where have you been? Hyde's worried, you know. He's called like five times."
"Oh," Jackie had replied, secretly sort of pleased that Steven cared enough and would take the time to call her. But she simply made up an excuse about having the flu and looking like crap. "No one can come visit me, okay? I would die if anyone saw me like this."
She could only hope Donna would pass this order on to Steven.
It wasn't that she didn't want to see her boyfriend. She did. And half of what she told Donna was true--she did look shitty. She hadn't had the energy to put on makeup to cover up the dark circles under her eyes. Lately, she wasn't getting too much sleep. It was hard for her, when the house was completely empty. Call it "abandonment issues."
Mainly, though, she was just embarrassed. Her mother had left her, forgotten her. Her father was in prison. Her family...Well, Steven could probably understand. He would understand. He'd been through this too.
But she still couldn't face him.
Her stomach growled loudly. All she'd eaten for the past forty-eight hours was dry cereal, since she didn't know how to cook anything and the milk had spoiled. It wasn't as if she was a big eater before (she did, after all, have to keep her figure) but you could get really sick of eating the same thing for every meal, especially when it wasn't very appetizing in the first place. "Shut up," she muttered to her stomach. "Shut up."
"Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah," Abba was singing. Jackie leaned over and turned the volume up. "You can dance. You can jive. Having the time of your life."
She curled up on the couch with the ratty old afghan and squeezed her eyes shut. She just wanted to sleep...
...But she knew she couldn't.
After laying on the couch for perhaps five minutes, she jumped up suddenly and screamed, "DAMN IT!" She kicked the table, causing the record player to fall off of it and crash to the ground, silencing the music. "DAMN IT!" Her vision went blurry, and her hand fluttered up to her cheek, wet with tears. "Damn it, damn it, damn it." Jackie broke down sobbing.
She was SICK of this. The tears and the tiredness. The hunger. All of it.
She just knew it would all be fixed if she got a decent night of sleep.
The only problem was that she didn't know where to go. Donna's place would work, but what if--ew--Eric was there as well? And, like, naked or something? She could go to a hotel, she supposed, but that was expensive, and it didn't really solve her problem. She wanted to be near people. If she went to Fez or Michael, they'd just try to get in her pants. She just wanted a place where she felt safe.
There was always Steven.
But she didn't want to bother him at--she glanced at the clock on the wall--two in the morning. He was a pretty heavy sleeper, and he'd probably get pissed off. Or the door to the Forman's basement would be locked and she'd have gotten up for no reason. Plus, she was pretty sure it was raining out. Yeah, she could see it now: Showing up at the basement door, mascara running, freezing cold, then finding out that the thing was locked. Unfortunately, she'd be so exhausted or whatever and she'd collapse from pnuemonia. Then, Steven would find her in the morning, and she'd look all freaky or be dead or something.
No. She definitely couldn't go there.
But she certainly couldn't endure another night where she was. She couldn't take another trip past her parents' bedroom on the way to the bathroom. Jackie couldn't bear to look into the empty fridge again. She couldn't suffer through one more day of unoccupied rooms and creaky doors, all seeming to be laughing at her. Or haunting her. She didn't know which.
Would it hurt her as much as she imagined to just put herself out there, to tell Steven that she needed his help? Would the results be so disastrous?
Unlikely.
He'd been in trouble before, too. He'd been abandoned, too. He could...he would understand. He wouldn't laugh. He wouldn't turn her away. True, there was no guarantee he'd actually wake up.
But she had to try.
She had to get away.
Despite everything she'd been through, every strange insecurity she'd felt in the past few days, some habits, shallow as they were, were hard to break. These habits included painting her nails and putting on as much makeup as possible before visiting her boyfriend. And though it took almost every ounce of her energy, Jackie did manage to carry a theme of the color red throughout her eyeshadow, lipstick, and wardrobe decisions of a pair of jeans and a cute off-the-shoulder top. She didn't look her best, but she sure looked better than she had an hour earlier.
Quickly grabbing her pair of flannel pajamas and stuffing them in a bag, she headed back downstairs. As she walked towards the front door, she grabbed the first coat she could find, but since an umbrella was nowhere in sight, she figured she would have to do without.
Even if it meant her hair would go flat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steven Hyde, more often referred to by his last name than his first, was not happy. Sleep was one of the most important things in his life, and he really hated being forced out of such a serene state. In fact, it pissed him off.
And unless whoever was knocking on the door--in a way that was quiet enough to ensure the sound sleep of the Formans but loud enough to cause Hyde to peel his eyes open in aggravation and curse the air above his head–brought with them a present, preferably in the form of a certain plant, he was going to give them hell. iYes, lots and lots of hell,/i he thought, his mind groggy, as he noticed that it was a little after three. In the morning.
Hyde rolled out bed and hit the floor with a thud. "Ow," he muttered, straightening his pajama pants and grabbing a shirt to pull on over his bare chest. "This better be good..." he called to the basement door as he approached it. "Or else." The knob was slightly cold when he touched it, and the chill caused the hair on his arm to stand up, but he didn't hesitate as he swung it open–
–And came face to face with a beautiful brunette wearing a bright red shirt and matching lipstick. And hanging on her elbow was a large bag with a pattern of pink unicorns.
"JACKIE?" he said, his voice loud with surprise and disbelief.
"Hey," she replied, voice quivering slightly. "Can I come in?"
He stepped aside, letting her come through the doorway, and tried not to sound too curious when he asked, "Why are you here? Donna said you had the flu."
"Oh," she giggled, clearly trying to sound as if something wasn't weighing heavy on her heart. "I was just feeling bad. Anyway. I was just wondering if maybe I could stay here for the night?" She looked at him pleadingly through her eyelashes.
He frowned back at her. "But I thought..." he trailed off. She knew what he was trying to say. He thought she had said she wasn't ready to do "it" yet. She probably wouldn't be ready for awhile. And that he'd have to be okay with that.
Jackie turned noticeably red. "Not to...you know. I mean..." Her voice broke. "I just need somewhere to sleep." At his blank look she said, words flying out of her mouth almost too fast to understand, "But you know what? I'll just go somewhere else. Or I'll go home. Why did I come here anyway? I'm just being a baby. I can go home. It's fine. I--"
"Just shut up for a second," Hyde interrupted. "You need somewhere to stay because...?"
Now sounding slightly offended she said, "I just get spooked out in my house...all alone. With my dad, you know, in prison, and my mom off at a bar somewhere." As an afterthought, she exclaimed, "And I'm sick of cereal!"
"Okay," he agreed. "You can stay."
"Do you want me to go? I'll go."
"You can stay."
"Are you sure?"
"Jackie." He spoke slowly. "You can stay."
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "I'll sleep on the couch, too. I mean, would that be a good idea?"
"No." He cocked his eyebrow at her. "You can share my bed. It's not the most comfortable, but it's more comfortable than that damn couch. But you can't let anybody catch you down here. Especially Mrs. F. We'd both be in for a lecture that I really don't want to sit through."
Her eyes filled with tears and she rushed at him, encircling her arms around his waist. "Oh, Steven. Thank you."
Instead of pushing her away, Hyde stroked her hair and whispered reassuring words into her ear as she sobbed into his shoulder. It was an unusual display of affection, one he normally wouldn't participate in, but with Jackie it didn't feel so bad. It almost felt good. She was so warm, and she smelled so...
He shook himself out of his trance. "Come on. Let's go to bed." She nodded and followed him to his room where she collapsed on the bed, falling asleep instantly. She didn't even get the chance to change into her pajamas.
Hyde crawled into the bed next to her, twisting his body in uncomfortable positions, trying not to fall off. She was a bit of a bed hog. But he managed to finally get settled in a way that she wasn't elbowing him in any particularly...sensitive places, and he wasn't falling off. But just to keep his balance, he curled his arm around her waist tightly and hoped he wouldn't let go in his sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Morning came too soon for the young couple. It rushed through the room with the strength and speed of something that would always come, something consistent, something impossible to stop.
They did not awake at first. Hyde shielded his eyes from the glare of sunlight, and Jackie pressed herself closer to him. But soon murmured voices outside the door caused Hyde to sit up and mutter, "Shit."
"You awake in there?" Michael Kelso was wondering.
"Yeah," replied Hyde, voice scratchy. "I'll be out in a minute." He then gently shook Jackie's shoulder, whispering "Get up. Get up."
"Mmmmph." She cracked one eye open. "What?"
He forced himself not to smile. "It's morning."
"Oh." She tried not to sound too disappointed.
"You stay in here for five minutes. Unless you want them to know you're staying here." She shook her head no. "I'll get them to go upstairs or something, and then you can go home."
"Okay."
He got up and walked out the door. She heard muffled words, something about breakfast and refrigerator. A second later, there was the sound of at least three people going up the stairs.
Jackie stretched her arms out, and suddenly she felt her neck crack. "Ow." It definitely hadn't been the most comfortable sleep she'd ever had. The bed was small, too small for just one person, and much too small for two. Steven stole the covers from her several times in the course of the night, and the pillows were unbelievably lumpy.
And yet she had never felt more rested in her life.
As she walked out the door, she caught her reflection in a mirror. Her hair was a little tousseled and messed up, her eye makeup was smudged, and under her eyes there was still dark circles, although slightly less dark then they were the day before. Steven had seen her like this, looking disheveled and embarrassingly messy.
She couldn't seem to care.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If her life was a movie, this would be the part where she sat by the phone, looking stunning yet casual, as she flipped through the channels on the television. Her script would tell her to look bored, but also deeply sad. She would sigh, and there would be a montage of her rolling over and over and flipping through channels and looking at the phone–all of this to some great song that everyone knows. She would sigh and turn off the TV. Then, the music would quiet, and, on cue, the phone would ring. It would be Steven, telling her to be "at his place" (he would, of course, have his own apartment in her movie) at midnight.
But her life was not a movie. Sure she was watching TV, but she was semi-interested in the episode of Charlie's Angels that was airing. And although she was slightly bored, she wasn't exactly "deeply sad." She didn't keep staring at the phone. There was no worldwide hit of a song playing in the background. Just Farrah Fawcett's voice. And she knew very well Steven didn't have his own apartment.
Guess what? He also didn't call.
The was a great debate going on within Jackie. "Go there," one side of her urged. "He let you stay yesterday, so why not today? Plus you left your bag there. You could say you're there to get it."
"At almost one in the morning? You'll look like a child. Can't be alone in your own house. Boo hoo!" cried the other side.
"Weren't you happy in his arms? Do you really think you're gonna find that here, in this ghost town of a house?"
"The door was locked yesterday, remember? It'll probably be locked again. You were lucky he woke up then, but there's no guarantee he'll wake up now!"
"He probably left the door unlocked for you. Just in case."
The other side cackled. "Why would he do that? He doesn't care enough about you to be inconvenienced."
"He does too!"
"Does not, and you know it."
"Then why'd he let you stay, huh? If he didn't care?"
"Because he thought he was going to get some."
On and on it went, her heart battling her mind. She was split down the center, insecure, afraid, and simply wanting to be at the Formans', to be with Steven, to feel safe.
Of course! Jackie should just do what she wanted to. Even if it meant getting turned away or forgotten or laughed at. Even if the door was locked. Even if it felt like she was risking everything. Because in truth, she had nothing left to lose.
The girl-woman stood and strode purposefully to the door. It didn't take long to get to the Formans' house, and she crept silently over to where the basement door was.
Arm outstretched, she put her hand on the metal knob. Carefully, she turned it to the right and pushed it, hesitating slightly...
...And it swung open easily.
Which could mean only one thing: he'd left it unlocked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They didn't know how long it went on. A few weeks, probably. Long enough.
Every night at one a.m., Jackie would sneak through the basement door and into Hyde's room. Sometimes, he was still awake, but usually he was asleep and snoring lightly. She'd weasel her way under his arm and under the covers, and usually she'd manage to find a fairly comfortable position.
Every morning, once she'd grown accustomed to either getting up early enough to get out before anyone noticed she was theret or to sneaking out, with his help in creating a diversion, he would say, "Be careful tonight." He didn't want to get caught. She thought it was because he secretly didn't want to disappoint Mr. and Mrs. Forman again. She was happy to respect his wishes, especially considering that the first real disappointment he had brought upon the family was actually her fault.
But they knew deep down that they would get caught sooned or later. They just never imagined it would be like this.
"I told you to be careful," Hyde growled at her.
"What kind of an idiot leaves legos in front of the door?"
Eric, standing there in all his naked-under-a-sheet glory, burst out some Star Wars reference that Jackie didn't understand.
Mrs. Forman then began to lecture them. "The Christmas decorations are down there. Baby Jesus was watching."
"We didn't do anything. Jackie's just staying here because her dad's in prison and her mom's still gone," Hyde tried to explain.
"She is?"
"No," said Jackie, rushed. "I'm just here because...I am such a tramp."
They didn't know how long it went on. How long they had lain together, slept together, without ever actually having sex. Doing It. They didn't know how long they had shared a bed, limbs entwined, without taking it farther.
They knew that now it would have to stop.
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Donna let Jackie stay with her, after first being told she was too unpopular, and then having a heart to heart with Hyde, who explained that Jackie had just been embarrassed. And Jackie was happy to stay with her best friend, even if Donna wasn't quite so overjoyed.
But she would miss the security of having Steven's arm wrapped around her as she slept, and the feel of his breath on the back of her neck, and even the sound of his snoring.
She would never thank him for what he gave her, she already knew that. But she hoped that he would know the serenity he granted her, the solace she found in his embrace. The escape he gave her from the pain. Everything he'd unknowingly made her feel.
She hoped he would realize that his touch on her arm was like a drug, relieving all her pressures.
He did, after all, know quite a lot about that subject.