Disclaimer: I don't own The O.C. or its characters
Note: This story overlooks the whole Marissa shooting Trey thing.
Sandy looked at Kirsten; his face a mixture of shock and disappointment. Just a minute ago, Kirsten had told him she was being released from rehab the next day and he'd been over the moon. That happiness had quickly been zapped away as Kirsten told Sandy she'd be staying with Charlotte-a friend from rehab.
Kirsten's heart gave a stab of guilt at the expression on Sandy's face. She had to let him know it wasn't what he thought-she loved him more than anything.
"Why?" Sandy asked simply.
"Sandy, I love you more than anything," Kirsten declared, taking his hand in hers. "And the boys. That's why I'm doing this. I won't allow myself to let you all down anymore. I need to take this time to make sure I can trust myself again before I let you and the boys trust me again."
Sandy played with Kirsten's fingers, his logical side seeing the sense in what she was saying, his emotional side declaring that enough time had been taken-she'd been in rehab for nearly two months. Home-nothing-was the same without her.
"And I need to learn to stand on my own two feet again," Kirsten concluded.
"But…can Charlotte be trusted?" Sandy asked. "You haven't known her for long. For all we know, she could be a serial killer."
"Charlotte is not a serial killer," Kirsten smiled.
"How long will you need?" Sandy asked.
"I don't know," Kirsten replied. "It won't be as long as I've been here for. Not even half of the time."
Sandy sighed. Kirsten knew what she was doing and she was doing it for the right reasons. That meant there was no point in trying to talk her out of it.
As Sandy slipped his arm around her, Kirsten leant her head on his shoulder, wondering if he knew this was hurting her as much as it was him. There was nothing she wanted more than to go home but until she knew how she'd go out of rehab, she couldn't let herself. Sandy's gesture obviously indicated that he understood her having to do this.
"Thank you," Kirsten said quietly. "I'll call the boys and tell them after you've left."
"Just know that I love you," Sandy told her. "And that won't ever change."
"I love you, too," Kirsten said with a smile. It was amazing how those three words said by Sandy could change her mood. Anytime Kirsten was down or frustrated during her stay in rehab, all she had to do was call Sandy. As soon as he'd say those words, she'd instantly find the happiness and motivation she needed to get through.
Sandy leaned in and kissed Kirsten, reinforcing just how far their relationship had come along. To say that their relationship had been rocky when Kirsten had arrived at rehab was something of an understatement. Through determination, hard work and help, they'd managed to bring back the communication. Clichéd as it sounded, their relationship was now practically as good as new.
"Will you still call me every day?" Kirsten asked, closing her eyes and leaning against Sandy.
"Of course," Sandy promised. "And the second you're ready to come home, will you call me?"
"I will," Kirsten stated.
"Does Charlotte live far away from us?" Sandy asked, wanting to know in case he had to race over there for an emergency.
"About half an hour," Kirsten told him.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Sandy asked. "What if something happens?"
"I know how to dial 911," Kirsten assured him. "I'll be fine."
"Can I visit you?" Sandy asked. He could come around frequently-check on her and try to persuade her to come home.
"Yeah," decided Kirsten. "I'd like that."
"And you're sure about this?" Sandy double-checked.
"Positive," said Kirsten.
Visiting hours had ended a few minutes ago but neither of them wanted to acknowledge that fact. Sandy didn't like the thought of leaving Kirsten alone in that room and Kirsten didn't like the thought of being alone. They sat holding each other in silence.
"I should go now," said Sandy, unconvincingly.
Kirsten took his face in her hands and kissed him-a succession of pecks, not wanting to let him go. Sandy tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her into him and deepening the kiss.
"Do you have to?" Kirsten asked, pulling her face away just enough to say those words in-between kisses.
"We could wait until they kick me out," Sandy suggested, kissing down Kirsten's neck.
"Like they did last time," Kirsten remembered, closing her eyes. "And the time before that…and pretty much every visit you made."
"Why break the trend?" Sandy asked, working his way back up to Kirsten's lips.
Their lips met again and Sandy pulled Kirsten down on to the bed on top of him.
A knock on the door sounded and Kirsten buried her head in Sandy's chest, wishing they would leave.
"Sandy, you need to leave now," came the voice of whoever was at the front desk, where the visitor sign-in book was. "Visiting hours ended fifteen minutes ago."
"I'll be out in a minute," Sandy promised them, before returning to Kirsten. "Why does that always happen?"
"Why do they have to keep that book?" Kirsten complained, rolling off Sandy to let him get up.
They walked to the door, and with that the mood changed. They stared at each other, both wanting the same thing for tomorrow; both knowing that it wouldn't happen.
Sandy took Kirsten in his arms and kissed her one last time, never imagining this would be the mood of things the night before Kirsten left rehab.
Kirsten watched as Sandy opened the door and walked down the hall, as she did whenever he left. And, like all other times, she had the urge to run after him and throw herself in his arms. This time, the urge was too strong to resist.
"Sandy!" Kirsten called.
Sandy turned around as Kirsten barrelled down the hall and flew into his arms.
"I love you," Kirsten whispered.
"I love you, too," Sandy said.
Charlotte swung open the door to her house and walked in with Kirsten in tow.
Trying to get used to rehab was one thing, but trying to get used to a different environment was another. Looking around, Kirsten tightened her grip on her bag. Charlotte had been released a week ago, yet the house already looked like a tornado had hit it. A small pathway on the floor of the living room had been cleared, leading into a narrow, dark hallway Kirsten followed Charlotte into. A damp, mouldy smell hit Kirsten as she paused, trying to adjust to the darker environment. Kirsten froze and gazed-mouth open-at something on the wall.
"What is it?" Charlotte asked turning around, having noticed Kirsten's halt.
"Um…you have a spider, right there," Kirsten declared, pointing to it with her free hand.
"Oh, an arachnophobic," Charlotte analysed. "Name him."
"What?" Kirsten asked, wondering why anyone would name such a repulsive creature.
"Name him. I name mine-they're like my muses," Charlotte explained-Kirsten deciding that there had to be better muses for journalists than spiders. "And maybe it'll even help you overcome your fear."
"Macbeth," Kirsten said, deciding on the name of her least favourite novel she'd been forced to study in school.
"Ooh, dark-I like it," Charlotte said approvingly.
"Okay. He's inspired me now," Kirsten declared. "He's inspired me to vacuum him up."
"Oh, Kirsten, he'll be gone in a few days," Charlotte stated. "We have to make the most of his visit. If you're worried about him crawling into your room and mouth, think of this: the average person will swallow, like, eight spiders. How many people do you hear of who die from that?"
Charlotte took a step towards a door, leaving Kirsten shuddering at that thought, trying not to look at Macbeth and imagine that crawling into her mouth.
"Speaking of rooms, here's yours," Charlotte said, opening a door.
Kirsten looked into a room slightly lighter than the hallway. One side of the room was occupied with a desk, computer and bookcase; the other a folding bed which just fit the length of the room. The middle of the room was a thin, bare strip, just wide enough to fit Kirsten.
"Well, I'll go fix dinner and let you get settled in," Charlotte said, heading out of the room, adding, "You're bag should fit under the bed."
Charlotte left Kirsten in the room, noticing that a non-curtained window was directly above the bed. Typically being sensitive to light, Kirsten decided it would make sleeping interesting.
Kirsten looked around the room, wondering what to do with this new-found freedom, what to do to make sure she could be trusted again. No matter how homey it was at Charlotte's, it was not Kirsten's home. Sandy, Seth and Ryan weren't there, and nothing could make her forget that.