A/N: happy friday! this chapter (and the next!) is a kind of a big turning point in the story, so im excited to share it with you all. ive been so busy/tired with work i havent been able to work on this story too much lately, but im trying:')
It's been a couple months since he first got shared custody of Betsy, and Hyde likes to think he's gotten the hang of things by now. But even despite the Piggly Wiggly incident, he still relies a lot on the Formans to help him out- more than he should, that is. Which is why his heart stops when Mrs. Forman tells him she and Red are going out of town for the weekend.
"Out of town? This weekend?" Hyde asks, hoping he'd misheard. He really hopes he misheard.
"Yes! I'm just so excited, it's been forever since Red and I went away together," Kitty practically squeals.
"But Mrs. Forman, this is the weekend that Eric and Donna are going on that road trip," he reminds her.
"Oh yes, looks like it'll just be you and Betsy here this weekend. Won't that be fun?" she asks.
"Sure…" he responds. That certainly does not sound like fun. In fact, it sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Who the hell knows how many things can go wrong over a weekend alone with a two year old. He's starting to wish he's been a little more independent when it comes to looking after Betsy, that way he'd feel somewhat more prepared right now.
At the look on Hyde's face, Kitty can see that he's unnerved at the thought of being alone with Betsy for the weekend. "Oh, don't worry about it. You'll be fine, I'm sure of it. Besides, if you do happen to run into any trouble, I'm sure Jackie is more than willing to come give you a hand," she reassures with a smile.
"Yeah, I think I'd rather go deaf from constant toddler screaming than ask Jackie for help," he snorts.
Kitty lightly wacks his arm. "You're too stubborn for your own good. If you asked, I know she'd come running. And whether or not you want to admit it, I know you'd do the same for her."
Hyde doesn't say anything, and she's certain he knows she's right. He just doesn't want to admit it.
"She's just a phone call away, remember that. But I don't think it'll come to that anyway. I know you're gonna do just fine on your own," Kitty consoles him with more confidence that he deserves.
God, I hope you're right, he thinks, hoping he won't end up freaking out about something.
Hyde is freaking out.
His Betsy shift had started out just fine: Friday had come and gone without a hitch, and on Saturday he made box mac and cheese for lunch and afterwards he sat on the back patio and read while Betsy played with chalk and bubbles. Then he cut up some hotdog for dinner along with fruit on the side. After that they went into the basement to watch some TV, Betsy falling asleep on the couch. And that's when the trouble began.
Betsy woke up a few hours later whimpering, drenched in sweat. Hyde laid a hand on her head and came to the startling realization that she was sick- right before she threw up hotdog on his boots. After being thoroughly grossed out (he knew there was another reason why he hadn't wanted kids) he managed to clean up the puke as best he could and get Betsy to drink some water. However, her fever hadn't let up and she went from crying back to weak whimpering.
Now he's here freaking out, unsure of what to do next. Should he take her to the hospital? No, no, he needs to keep his head about this. The hospital is the last resort; he doesn't want to put her back in that emotionally draining place unless it's necessary. But he has to do something, the poor kid is suffering. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to take care of a sick child. His mother never gave a shit about him or his health, and the few times he was sick he was left to fend for himself. He mainly remembers just laying around in bed, toughing it out until the pain subsided.
But he won't leave Betsy to do that. He can't do that to her. He wants her to have the proper care and attention that he never had, the care and attention she deserves. The only thing is, he doesn't know how to do that. If only the Formans were here, or Donna even.
Jackie's just a phone call away.
If you asked, I know she'd come running.
Hyde recalls Kitty's words and they echo in his mind, bouncing off its walls. He doesn't know what kind of sick irony or karma this is, but Jackie seems to be his best option at the moment. He's that desperate. He needs to think of Betsy and her wellbeing and not focus on his personal feelings toward Jackie.
Swallowing his pride like bitter tasting medicine, Hyde picks up the phone and dials Jackie's number.
Jackie has just settled on the couch to watch Three's Company with a cup of hot chocolate in hand when the phone rings. After the long day she's had at work, she's tired and considers just letting it ring so she can watch her show in peace. But after a moment she sighs and sets her mug down to get up and answer the phone.
"Hello?" she asks, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"Jackie, it's Hyde," the voice on the other end answers, and Jackie sucks in a breath. Hyde was calling her? Why would he call her?
"Listen," Hyde continues, "Betsy's sick. Really sick and I don't know what to do. I-I need you to-"
"I'll be right there," she says without hesitation, her heart clenching in concern. How could she ever say no?
Less than ten minutes later, Jackie flings open the door to the Forman's basement. Hyde stands up from where Betsy is laying on the couch and takes a few steps towards her.
"Jackie, thank God," he says in greeting, but she doesn't take her eyes off of Betsy's still figure, "The Formans are out of town and I didn't know who to call."
"Let me see her," she pushes past him and sits on the couch next to Betsy. "I'm here, baby." She lays a hand on her forehead, which is sticky with sweat and has her hair plastered to it.
"Mommy?" the child mumbles, not even opening her eyes.
Jackie's throat feels tight at the innocent mix up and she briefly glances up at Hyde before turning her attention back to Betsy. "No, it's your Aunt Jackie. But I'm going to do everything I can to help you feel better, okay?"
Taking her hand from Betsy's face, she turns to Hyde. "She's burning up, have you taken her temperature?"
"Uh. No? I don't even know if they have a thermometer," he defends.
She gives him a look. "Steven. Trust me, they have a thermometer. Go look in the bathroom cupboard," she instructs. When he doesn't move immediately Jackie snaps at him, "NOW! "
He quickly scrambles to the bathroom. So she can still get him to do things for her. At least that much hasn't changed.
After managing to find the thermometer, he returns and hands it to her. "Thanks," she says before eagerly turning to Betsy. "Baby, you're gonna have to put this under your tongue, okay?" she puts the object into the toddler's mouth.
Jackie turns back to Hyde, "Steven, can you hold this in her mouth until it beeps? I'll be right back."
"Yeah, sure," he agrees, taking her place next to Betsy. Jackie hurries up the stairs, her footsteps light but urgent.
Upstairs, Jackie first searches the kitchen cabinets for Acetaminophen, which she has to dig around for but eventually finds. After grabbing the medicine, she finds one of Betsy's sippy cups and fills it with cold water. Leaving the kitchen, Jackie runs up to Betsy's new room and finds a light pair of pajamas. Lastly, she goes into the upstairs bathroom and wets a washcloth with cool water. Satisfied with what she has, Jackie rushes back down to the basement.
Hyde is surprised to see her come back with an armful of stuff, but he doesn't comment on it.
"She has a fever of 101," he informs her, gesturing to the thermometer which is now set on the table.
"Oh God," Jackie groans, her heart sinking to her stomach, "how long has she been like this? Sick, I mean."
"Not long," Hyde answers, "She was fine after dinner, she just fell asleep while we were watching TV and she woke up sweaty and whimpering. Then she puked all over my boots." He makes a face at the unpleasant memory, his nose crinkling in disgust.
"And you called me right away?" she presses, wanting details. She hates the thought of the little girl suffering without anyone caring for her for even a second longer than necessary.
"Pretty much, yeah," Hyde admits almost reluctantly, but Jackie doesn't notice. Instead, she just nods, looking back at Betsy.
"Well...thanks for calling me when you did, Steven," Jackie says genuinely. "I want to be here for Betsy whenever she needs me."
Hyde just nods in response, suddenly feeling more insecure of his parenting abilities than ever.
There's a moment of tense silence and Hyde wonders if Jackie is trying to think of what to do next.
"Okay," she finally says, sounding like she's trying to reassure herself of something. Then, with more determination, "Okay." She gets to work, changing Betsy out of her sweaty clothes and into the fresh pair of pajamas she brought down. She then manages to get Betsy to sit up and take the medicine- with the promise of lots of ice cream once she's well- and drink some water with it. Then she allows Betsy to lay back down, propping her head up with a pillow. Jackie gently puts the cold compress on her head.
Throughout all of this, Hyde watches in awe. Never once did he think that he would witness Jackie behave in such a selfless and gentle way with a small child. He would have thought that seeing such a thing feel downright unnatural and uncomfortable, but the way she fell into it so genuinely was such a tender sight. And as much as he hates to even acknowledge it, he finds it rather attractive.
He helps where he could (putting her clothes away, re-wetting the washcloth, etc.), but he spends most of the time just watching Jackie unexpectedly fall into the mothering role.
"She's asleep," Jackie says quietly, jolting Hyde from a daze. She's been stroking the girl's hair and rubbing her back in a soothing manner for a little while now, and the girl's breathing has finally evened out into a restful sleep.
"Oh. Good." Hyde clears his throat. "Think she's gonna be okay?" he asks in a hushed voice. He moves closer to Jackie so they can talk without waking Betsy, sitting on the table with his knees parallel to hers from her position still seated on the couch next to the sleeping figure. Both of their eyes are on the sick toddler, concern shining in them.
She nods. "I think so. We're just going to have to wait and see if her fever breaks," she replies.
"Right," he agrees. It's silent for a moment before Hyde asks a question he's been curious about, "Hey, how did you know how to do all that stuff anyway?"
Jackie just shrugs. "My parents may have been too busy to take care of me, but I had nannies who were around sometimes to look after me. I just did what I remember they would do for me whenever I was sick."
"Ah, well, you could've fooled me into thinking you actually had parents who gave a shit about you," he teases in a way only someone who shares an abusive past with another can. Then, after a moment, "You looked like a real parent. I was impressed."
Jackie snorts humorlessly. "No, you weren't." The words are said with a sad confidence. He can't mean that.
"I'm serious," he insists.
She looks at him confused. "Really?"
He shrugs. "Sure," he tries to sound nonchalant. In reality though, he's still blown away.
A heavy silence falls upon the two. This time it's Jackie's turn to ask a question that's been weighing on her. She hesitates. "Steven? Did you," she pauses, "did you mean what you said at the hospital? That you think I agreed to raise Betsy with an ulterior motive? That you don't believe I would ever do something selfless like adopting a kid?"
Hyde's stomach drops at her words, guilt and shame washing over him like a waterfall. Has Jackie Burkhart, queen of confidence, really been reduced to an insecure mess? Because of him and his stupid words from months ago? Damn it. He really needs to control his fucking mouth.
But before he can respond, she continues to express her uncertainty with more questions that only confirm his suspicions. "What if I really don't have what it takes to do this? What if I don't know how to put someone else's needs before mine? Or-"
"Whoa, Jackie, slow down" Hyde interrupts her, "I think you're capable of doing whatever you put your mind to. Nothing has stopped you before, and I don't see why anything should now. As for those things I said before...I shouldn't have said them. There's a lot of things I shouldn't have said." The admission comes out with surprising shame.
Jackie swallows hard. "Then why did you say them?"
Hyde can't meet her eyes, looking anywhere and everywhere but her face. "Look I just-," he sighs, "I guess a part of me is, you know, still not over how things ended between us. And it's just easier for me to think of you as sinister and heartless than as the girl who I thought once loved me."
At those words, Jackie's heart shatters like one of her ceramic unicorns that Kelso knocked over. "I did love you," she says, voice full of emotion, sad but genuine.
Hyde's eyes meet hers, the air suddenly thick with tension between them. As always, without his sunglasses on, Hyde's eyes say more than his mouth ever could.
"Look," Jackie explains, "I know things ended... badly between us, but what we had was real. I hate the thought of you thinking otherwise. I really did love you, Steven. Please believe that." She then looks down at her hands, once again looking small and insecure, contrary to her nature. "Even if you never really loved me."
And for what feels like the tenth time today, Hyde's heart hurts. "Jackie…" He runs a hand through his curly hair. Fuck, this whole conversation is difficult. "I did love you. A lot, actually."
Jackie's eyes shoot up. "But what about Sam? You moved on so fast and I just thought- well, I guess a part of me always thought- that you never wanted to be with me at all."
He sighs. "I never loved Sam, alright? I mean I liked her, I guess, but I never loved her. And I did want to be with you; I wouldn't have put up with all your annoying quirks if I hadn't," he tries cracking a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, earning a small smile and roll of the eyes from Jackie. But then he grows serious again, needing to speak his peace. "I'm sorry I made you doubt that."
Jackie stares at him, surprised at the apology, but nevertheless incredibly grateful for it. It was something smaller that had gotten lost among the bigger things Hyde had done to hurt her, and she hadn't realized how much she needed to hear that. It's not much, but it's enough for now, enough to give her hope that they can heal. "Thank you," she says.
He nods in response, giving a tight smile.
With some of their grievances between each other addressed and talked through, something has shifted between them and they can feel it. The air is a little easier to breathe and they can look each other in the eye for a little longer than usual without it hurting. They've now clarified that they did in fact love each other.
They just left out the part that they still do.
