A/N Right, so this is less angsty Garret, but that doesn't mean he's happy. This is dark and depressing, and well, it may not be the last you see of DarkGarret, I'm starting to kick around ideas for this year's NaNoWriMo and well, the only things I can think of involve a somewhat depressive Garret...or essentially this fic with original characters and a few changes...But the next multi chap is G/J fluff, which is halfway through it's outline and I am doing all those drabbles...
To be trusted is a better compliment than to be loved -George MacDonald
The sound of someone knocking on the door startled him out of his reverie. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, it was a fog of jumbled thoughts, all of them running together, a byproduct of living off of caffeine, not sleep. He jumped as whoever it was knocked again. And again. He was already on edge. He walked over to the door and opened it. "What the hell are you doing here?" He growled at her.
"Well hello to you too. You going to invite me in? It's cold out." He glared at her but made no attempt to move.
"I mean it, why are you here Jordan?"
"Well I figured you might like-" He glared at her realization dawning on him.
"You don't trust me, do you?" The question hung in the air as she shifted back and forth in place, both from the cold and from trying to avoid answering the loaded question. "Jordan, I don't need you looking over my shoulder." He went to close the door but she stuck her leg in before he could. "Just go home." He ordered and she shook her head. "Home, or I'm going to fire you." She smiled slightly.
"I just drove three hours to get here, Garret. And now I'm standing out here freezing my ass off-"
"I didn't invite you over." He told her and she glared at him.
"Garret, can't you put your stubborn pride aside for one day? Didn't you tell me that believe or not some people actually do care about me? Well guess what, people care about you too." He frowned.
"Why?" It was one word that held so much meaning for three simple letters. She tried to think of something to say, something that wasn't a rush of words and at the same time tried to force her way in.
"Why? Garret, you're the one that saved me. The first thing you did right after we met was give me a way out, saving me from killing myself. You've been my best friend since then. I'm just repaying that favor. "
He finally relented and let her in, but made no move to offer her anything. She just looked so pitiful out in the cold. She stomped the snow from her boots and took of her coat, hanging it on the rack by the door. "I don't need a watchdog." He said, collapsing on the couch. He didn't want her to be here.
"Why, so you can be all alone so no one can find your body for weeks?" He glared at her.
"Jordan." He growled warningly.
"I'm afraid, Garret. You're the one that always tries to get me to express my feelings. And now you're trapped in whatever the hell you're feeling and not talking to anyone. Hello pot, this is kettle?"
"Do as I say, not as I do." He took a long swig of coffee, the long slow burn down his throat vastly different from the one that he wanted. She sat down across from him, staring intently at him.
"Garret-" She started again and he cut her off.
"Jordan, I told you to stop caring, you have no reason to care, so don't." He leaned further back into the cushions, reclining and kicking his feet up.
"I just want to help you." She said softly.
"You want to help? Go home Jordan, and let me die if I want to." There was a look of fear, of pain in her eyes. Suddenly she started laughing, bitterly.
"You know what? Titleman was right. You are the cowardly lion. You're too afraid of life without something to comfort you, to live it. You're afraid to live and you're taking the coward's way out, you've changed, you've become this reclusive little man who hates his life because you're afraid of it. You're afraid of not being perfect. Well guess what, no one's perfect Garret, but you're not the one I thought of as a coward, you have your faults but I never saw cowardice as being one of them. But the more I think about it the more I think you always were. You've always been a afraid, you've just tried to hide all your petty insecurities. At least Slokum acknowledged the fact that he was a self-righteous bastard with a Napoleonic complex-"
He found himself on his feet inches away from her. If she had been anyone else he'd have already been swinging at them. But this was Jordan, his best friend, he couldn't hurt her. He turned around and walked away, he couldn't believe the way that he had just almost come to blows with his best friend. With Jordan. "I told you Jordan, just go home." He said softly as he retreated back to the master bedroom, closing the door behind him, collapsing on the bed.