Disclaimer: Not mine.

Note: Thank you for all your great reviews. They make me smile until my face hurts.

Second Note: I may not get a chance to add another chapter for awhile. I'm going on a CRUISE! WOO-HOO! But, I'll miss this, and I'll miss all you reviewers because you make me so happy.

Chapter nine.

xoxo

"I thought I heard you... Thought I was going crazy," Tommy shakes his head, laughing. It's not funny. We both know that. "Then I saw your car."

I don't know what I'm supposed to do, now. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. This is the place I've been hiding. This is my grave, un-marked. My decaying soul. This is me, Tommy. You wanted know. You wanted to know! I'm leaning against this wall, and I've leaned here before. I died here. I died here. You wanted to know, Tommy. You took the nightmare and you made it real with your eyes. You saw the truth and for that, you shouldn't be here. You should let me keep this seperate. You should let me mourn. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be here.

"What are you doin' here, Jude?" he asks, softly, trying to smile, failing.

What am I doing here? I don't know anymore. I don't know anything.

"Trying to leave," I chuckle, tears falling. "I'm trying to leave."

I don't know what he's thinking. As his head tilts to the side while he stares. At me. Seeing me, seeing everything... and knowing. He always knows. His face changing, like something's wrong. Everything is wrong, Tommy. He takes a step back, stumbles, presses a palm against brick to hold himself steady. He breathes for a moment before pulling back. Scared. He can't touch the wall, he can't touch this place. Be a part of it. Not for a second. He knows, he knows. Tommy stepped into the home of my nightmare and he doesn't want to be here anymore. This is my home, this is my home. I'm just trying to get out. He looks back, and all around us. He looks... lost.

"This is..." he murmers. "This is where? This is where?"

He's asking me. Not looking anymore. Breath escaping in un-even spurts.My tears are already falling. Yes, Tommy, this is where. Don't cry for me. Don't cry. Damn it! Don't cry!

"Yes," I'm struggling for words. They hurt. "This is where."

And everything stops. The whole world just... stops. Tommy stops. Everything. He just looks at me again. Against the wall. He just looks at me. He just looks. With big eyes. I don't want him here, I want him here. Hold me, go away. Everything inside of me wants something else. Iwant death. I can feel the bottle of pills in my pocket. My phone, viberating in my pocket. Sobs bubbling up in my throat. Stop looking at me, Tommy. I don't want sympathy, I don't want you. I don't need love. There's no such thing as love. There's only what you want. Remember? You kissed me, remember? I was only sixteen. But, it didn't matter. Nothing did. Not even me. Just how badly you needed that kiss. Nothing matters again. It never has. I want him to fuck me. Right here, where I stand, propped against this wall. Like the Monster Man fucked me. Only this time it's for me. Prove it. Tommy. Prove me right. There's no such thing as love. There's no such thing as love. There's only what you want.

His first step toward me and my mind shuts off. He walks swiftly, slowly. Slowly. Slow. Slow. Slow. Like one of those hallways that keeps getting longer. I forget to breathe. I want him. I don't want him. Don't prove me right. Give me hope. Give me hope. But, he's so close. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I can feel it warm against my face. I shiver. I think that he's going to kiss me. I don't know.

"Let's leave together," he whispers.

I feel myself dying again. All over again. Never, not for a moment... I didn't consider... I'm not here alone. Never, not for a moment. But, here he is. Tommy. Running toward me, and running, and running. The pavement like carpet slipping beneath his feet. And, when he falls, when he falls... I fall. And, I'm gone. He doesn't get back up again. He blames himself as much as I blame myself. We're both here. And, it's not a matter of being dead or alive. We're not dead, we just keep dying. He doesn't deserve this. I've sunken, and taken Tommy down with me. We will never leave this place. And that's my fault. We will never leave.

"Okay," I nod, holding his hand. "Okay."

I follow him out of the alley, but not really. I still linger there, a part of me. He seems resolved. It's not that easy, Tommy. You're too late. You don't have to try and save me. I'll only disappoint you. Inside my car, I turn the keys and listen to the soft pur of the engine.

"Should I drive you home?" I ask.

Sometimes words will come out of my mouth that I don't recognize as my own. It's the Jude Harrison slipping out of me. She's still in there, somewhere. I have to brush away that thought, though. It sounds like hope.

"Yeah," Tommy looks at me, confused, but nodding. "Sure."

IIIII

Top floor, penthouse, it's a long way up. I'm not supposed to be here. He waited for me. Tommy. He waited for me to follow. So, I got out of the car. Walked behind him all the way. He didn't look back, not once. Maybe he felt me there. Like someone feels the presence of a ghost. A chill down your back, the hairs sticking up. Something is off about the air you are breathing. Not alone, not alone. I'm just haunting you. Longing for you. I want life again. I want to want Tommy like I did before. I want to trust him. Not be afraid of this. I used to dream about it. His apartment, and us, and love. But, it's not like that anymore. And, I'm scared. Haunted. And, the silence is deafening. I want to cover my ears. I want to throw up. I want to die. The elevator stops and Tommy steps off. He turns around. Watches.

I step out and that's that. The elevator doors shut again. We're in his home. I can't protect myself om him. I'm helpless. His. I almost want him to break me. Take what's left. There's still so much left. But, with nothing, I can create nothing. Fear, hope, pain. Nothing. You can't hurt me when I'm empty. Tommy.

"I'm gonna make myself a cup of coffee," Tommy runs his fingers through his hair. "You want some?"

"No, thanks," I say.

I'm never tired, Tommy, and I'm always tired. You can't fix this. Not with anything. I follow him to the kitchen and sit at a table. I can't think about his apartment, now. It's beautiful; modern, yet elegant. Impressive, I guess. But, I'm still a rape victim and he's still my past. Not my future. I can't have him anymore.

"I have soda," Tommy offers. "Orange juice, tea, uh, milk..."

"That's okay," I shake my head. "I don't need anything."

Tommy laughs. A tiny, bitter laugh. When I open my eyes I see him looking right at me. It hurts. He knows me, and everything about me. I can't hide beneath my skin. He sees through it.

"You don't need anything?" he repeats, the words harsh. "You're fine?"

"Tommy, I..." I start, but I can't finish.

"You what?" he asks, eyes blazing. "What?"

Tommy, I'm sorry. Tommy, I'm lost. Tommy, I'm hopeless, unhappy, ugly, disgusting, pathetic. Wrong.

Tommy, I hate me.

"You what?" he screams. Screams. "You what, Jude?"

He bangs his fist down on the counter and everything trembles. I can't stop shaking. I don't want to cry in front of him. He's so angry. Tommy's so angry. I don't understand anything anymore. I just don't want to cry in front of him. He looks exhausted, hunching forward, leaning against the counter now.

"You can't even pretend, Jude," he's got tears in his eyes while he shakes his head. "You can't even pretend like you're okay. You're so bad at it. Stop pretending. Just stop."

I don't know how. I don't know how.

"You were raped," Tommy says. He watches me flinch. The glint in his eyes returns. "What? You don't like that?"

No. I don't.

"You were raped," he repeats. Shut up. "You were raped."

He's walking toward me, stooping down, his face in front of my face. Too close. I don't want to be here anymore.

"Say it," he tells me. Demands. Eyes big, electric blue.

No. I won't say it. I won't say it. Shaking my head rapidly, leave me alone. Tommy. Leave me alone. I won't say it. Don't you know? If I say it... If I say it... I feel everything inside my chest collapsing already. I can't. Tommy, don't make me. I can't.

"Say it, Jude," he pleads. Desperate. Like when I was sixteen.

Un-happy birthday.

"I was..." I try. For Tommy, I try. "I was... I... I was... I... I... I..."

I won't cry, I won't cry. Tommy raises his hand and I flinch back. Breathing fear until I see the look of hurt on his face. He just wanted to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. He wanted to take care of me. He needed me to trust him. But, I've become this monster. The Monster Man, running through my veins. I hurt everywhere. Everyone. I can't let him love me. I can't let him close. Doesn't he know? Doesn't he know? It means letting the bomb out. It means we'll both explode. But, I feel it. Climbing up my throat, slipping between my molars, perching on the tip of my tongue. I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry, Tommy. I'm so sorry.

"I was raped."

Boom.

Tommy's arms closed around her as she gasped. Sputtered. Sobbed.

"I was raped," she whispered against his chest. "I was raped."

Maybe if he held her tight enough... If he could hold her tight enough... Keep her safe enough... Jude clawed at Tommy's back, closer, he needed to be closer. Hold her and hold her and hold her. Closer. If this was just a nightmare, and he could wake up now... Tommy felt the tears slipping from his own eyes in protest. If he could just wake up... If Jude was alright and everything was back to the way that it was... If everything could just be okay... But, he could feel the way her body wrenched with the forceful cries against him. He loved her too much. Didn't she know that he loved her too much? That his heart was breaking? Didn't she know that she wasn't alone? Didn't she know?

And, now he'd seen the place it happened. He could picture it in his head, even though he didn't want to. He could see her crying, against the wall, struggling. He had to see her there, like that. He couldn't save her. Holdingher nowas tight as he could. Nails dragging down his arms. Closer, closer. He had to picture it, even though he didn't want to. He had to see her there. He was supposed to protect her. He had to see. Holding Jude, Tommy holding Jude. She deserved better. Someone other than him for comfort. Didn't she know? Didn't she know? Eventually quieting. Weakening. The sobs softer than before.

He cradled her carefully as Jude threw her arms around his neck. Holding on as he carried her to the guest bed-room. Pulling back the covers and gently setting her down. Slipping off her shoes, he pulled the cover up again and headed for the door.

"Tommy," she whispered and he turned around again. "Stay with me."

His hand on the doorknob. Stay with her. She didn't want to be alone. Jude. His Jude. He nodded. Dazed. Shutting the door behind him and kicking off his shoes. Walking around to the other side and sliding beneath the covers. Jude rolled over,moving toward him, resting her head on his chest. Wrapping an arm around his stomach. Throwing a leg over his legs. He smiled. This was like the old Jude. Comftorable, cuddly. Maybe everything would be alright. But, he felt something hard through her pocket. He moved his hands slowly, not wanting to scare her. She was already sleeping. Reaching in and feeling something cold, and plastic. He pulled it out and froze, feeling Jude shift against him. Not awake. He realized he wasn't breathing. He was holding a bottle. Of sleeping pills.