Hyde supposed that he shouldn't really be surprised when Sam's husband showed up at the Forman household. After all, considering what Sam was, there was possibly a whole lot of other skeezy details that she would have hidden from him. But he found out that he was surprised. And to a more troubling extent, he found that he actually cared.
When the middle-aged man stuck his hand out and introduced himself as Larry, Sam's husband, his first instinct was outright denial.
No, he wasn't in love with Samantha. And there was no way that he could ever fall in love with her. Not like he could ever fall in love with anyone after Jackie. And especially not because he was still in love with Jackie.
But Larry came anyway, and Hyde felt himself feeling something. He supposed it was because he had gotten used to the idea that, where Sam was concerned, he would be the one doing the leaving, or be the one that showed her the door. The thought that she would leave him first had never even crossed his mind.
So because he was Steven Hyde, when Sam turned to him and begged him to let her stay, he showed her the door.
"But Hyde, baby," she whined in her annoying breathy voice.
"See ya, Sam."
She grasped at his arm. He shook off the red talons that were threatening to cut off his blood supply.
"But…baby. I love you," she wailed.
He slammed the door in her face.
That night, he got rip-roaring drunk. He felt like he had traded in his beautiful, beloved El Camino for some broken-down jalopy that he hadn't even wanted in the first place.
Randy and Donna found his sorry ass when the bartender at his favorite drinking hole called at one in the morning to request that they 'please take him home' for he was 'drunk off his ass' and was 'a fight waiting to happen'.
He tried to fight Randy off when they gently guided him to the waiting car in the parking lot outside.
"Lemme be," he slurred and pushed at him. "Whose piece of crap car is this?" he demanded when he saw Randy's blue Ford. "Who took my Camino? Where's my Camino, man. Where's my baby? My baby. Jackie… Jackieeeeeeeeeee," he howled then tripped over his own feet.
Donna and Randy huffed and grunted, and half-carried, half-dragged him into the Ford.
"Lemme be!" he repeated and swiped at them. "Jackieeeeee!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.
He continued baying and yowling her name all through the ride to the Formans'. By the time Donna and Randy got to the driveway, they were ready to toss him down the basement stairs and be done with him.
"Naw. I don't want ya touchin' me ya blonde bitch," Hyde lashed out when Donna tried to help him out of the car. "Jackie! Jackieeeeeee!"
"Shhhhh! Shush!" Donna hissed at him and slammed the car door back close. "He's gonna wake everyone up!" she whisper-shouted to Randy over the top of the car.
He shot her a look with his eyebrows raised. "You think?" he whisper-shouted back at her.
He bent down and opened the door from the other side. Hyde was sprawled over the back seat.
"Jackie! Jackieeee!"
Randy quickly slammed the door shut again. He looked at Donna. "Can't we just leave him there?"
Donna glared. "And have him hurl all over your car? I'm not making out with you in there ever again."
"Fine. Fine!" He opened the door again and attempted to haul Hyde out by his armpits.
"Jack—,"
The door slammed shut again. Randy shoved his hands through his hair. "What are we gonna d—" he stopped mid-word and stared behind Donna's shoulder with no small amount of fright in his eyes. Donna whirled around to meet the angry glare of Red Forman.
He looked disheveled, grouchy and downright mean. Donna gulped.
"What in blue blazes. Why, is that dumbass" -he pointed towards the backseat of Randy's car- "wailing like a banshee in the middle of my driveway, at this hour?!"
He glared at the both of them. "If either of you wake Kitty up, or any of the neighbors complain come morning, my foot is going so far up your asses, no one will be sitting for a week."
"Uh, Mr. Forman, sir," began Randy nervously, "Hyde's drunk and won't stop screaming for Jackie."
"Then get on the phone and get her ass here!" he flung back at them. "But make sure he keeps quiet!"
With that, he turned on his heel and marched back inside the house, the bottom of his dressing gown billowing impressively out behind him.
The both of them stared after him.
Randy broke the silence after a couple of beats. "Okay… I guess we call Jackie then."
Donna sighed, and headed over to her house to use the phone there.
Surprisingly, Jackie agreed to come over with minimal fuss, and was actually waiting for them at the foot of her apartment when Randy and Donna drove over.
Hyde had been conscious and howling 'Dancing Queen' in the back seat for a good part of the drive there, but mercifully passed out a half a mile from Jackie and Fez's and was snoring noisily when they pulled up.
Jackie pulled her jacket tighter around her as she walked over to the car. She opened the back door and hesitated for a second before sliding in and gently lifting Hyde's head on to her lap to give her room to sit.
"What happened?" she softly asked, when they were out on the road and on the way back to the Formans'.
Donna blew out a breath. "Long story short: Sam's husband showed up. Hyde kicked her out, then got wasted."
After all that Jackie had been through, she honestly wasn't even that surprised to learn that Sam the Stripper was already married.
"Huh," she said.
Donna turned around to look at her over her shoulder. "He won't quit screaming for you. Red made us come get you so he would shut up."
Jackie was staring down at Hyde, her fingers absently stroking the soft curls away from his face. She nodded.
She didn't know what to think. She was baffled that Steven had been shouting for her, and though she knew that he was drunk, and couldn't really be held accountable for his actions, a small burst of hope ignited in her chest.
In sleep, the bitter hostility that was always etched on his face when she was around had faded away, and he looked younger and content — the same as he had always looked after they had made love and he had drifted off to sleep with her in his arms.
His eyes opened briefly and he registered her face above his. "You're here," he said and then he smiled, a peaceful one full of satisfaction, before he drifted off again.
Somehow, between the three of them, they managed to get him down the basement and into his bed. Donna and Randy hightailed it out the door the moment he was slumped across the cot, but Jackie lingered, reluctant to leave.
She removed his boots and took off his jacket, pulling the covers over him and making him as comfortable as she could. When she could do no more, she lay a hand against his cheek and removed his glasses, placing them on the dresser next to the bed. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and turned to go.
As if he sensed somehow that she was about to leave him, his eyes flew open.
"Jackie," he rasped, and grabbed her hand. "Stay with me."
She looked into his blue eyes, uncovered by sunglasses for the first time since their break up. And in them she saw him. Her Steven. She saw his love for her, his regret at everything that had happened. And she felt the love she still had for him pour out in reply.
"Steven," she whispered joyfully. "You're back."
"Stay with me Jackie," he pleaded.
She pushed his hair off his forehead and smiled softly. "Of course, Puddin'."
He looked at her like how he used to. With longing. Disbelief, that she would love him, and the wonder that she did. He looked at her and she saw the love that he professed to her only once before simmering deep in his eyes.
He brought up a hand to her face, "Jackie I —".
He broke off and reached up to pull her towards him, and she kissed him with every fibre of being in her body. He pulled back after a while.
"What's this?" He touched the wetness he felt on his cheek. "You cryin', doll?"
"I'm just so happy, Steven."
He smiled and pulled her towards him again. She fell into his arms as naturally as she did before. As if they had never been apart.
His lips found hers and her tongue found his and when they were skin to skin she thought she would die from the sheer ecstasy of it. He knew her body like the back of his hand, and she arched toward the feel of his touch, as familiar with his sense of rhythm and style as he was with hers.
And when he finally entered her, her tears were flowing freely. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms about his neck, and welcomed his hard heat into her body and she was so happy she thought her heart would finally burst.