Encounter: Chapter 10

Can I Live Without You?

Author's Note: Okay, so I'm making a vow to just keep on top of these stories. I've spent the majority of the last two days at my computer, and I have just realized how much time I'd let pass on some of these stories and I can not believe it. I'd like to point out that this specific update was made quickly, and is rather lengthy for my chapters, out of love for luvcali76's November Rain. Because that story just kicks ass. And I'm baiting her to update sooner. Please Review and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: It's all mine. Especially Hyde. He's mine, and he's naked. No wait, hold on, that was last night's dream. Damn it! None of it's mine. Cruel, cruel reality –what a whore!

His heart stopped, his head pounded, and his eyes clouded with shock, and rage, and disgust.

But he didn't move from the couch.

And as Jackie took in his body pulsating, his set, angular jaw twitching with raw, savage, hysterical anger, she forced her lips into a villainous smile and kicked him while he was down.

"Didn't you hear me, Steven? I don't want you. And now that I'm single again, maybe I can talk Michael into making me feel better. Like he did in Chicago. I really don't think you want to be here to see that, to hear that. You know how I tend to scream."

She knew she was preying on his insecurities, on his mistrust, using the possessiveness he still felt for her to steal any peace from his mind. She knew how deeply she was hurting him...and she loved it. "Aww, Steven, you seem upset. Maybe you weren't finished, maybe you have more to say? Okay, then, let's talk. Why don't you tell me, Steven, did you ever have nightmares about him touching me the way you used to, the way you want to? When you walked into that hotel room, did you imagine his body, slick with sweat, pressed flush, full against mine, his hands all over me, his lips, his breath? Was the image burned into your brain? That picture of him making me forget all about you?"

The victoriously malicious sneer that had found itself upon her face was short lived as he growled at her to shut the fuck up and moved swiftly from the couch to occupy the space in front of her, pressing his height advantage over her until surprise and fear washed across her face.

He leaned into her, much like he had drunkly in the basement two nights before, and trapped her against the frame of the door. His right hand gripped her upper arm, and it hurt badly as if it was being crushed under the weight of both of their sins. He had pushed her back so that the ridges of the wood dug into the smooth skin of her back, making her mouth part in the smallest of screams, and her eyes widen with the increasing pain. His face was vicious and she almost didn't recognize him as he leaned beside her and snarled in shallow breaths, "I know what your doing, and you know I know it's working. I can't see straight, I can't breathe even, I can't think clear. But this isn't over, doll. It's far from over." His hand squeezed even tighter into the tender flesh he held her by as he scavenged her lips to stifle her gasps and to bruise her senseless. His teeth scraped against her chapped, cry-swollen bottom lip, and then he sucked it into his mouth, licking her blood up to deepen the sting. Sudden and hard, he pushed away from her, leaving her shoulder to crack against the edge of the plastered wall, and showing no response, let alone remorse, he stalked down the hall away from her.

And she was too stunned to cry.

The El Camino was at its top speed. Hyde didn't care that this road was narrow, that the severe gusts of wind shifted his place on the road, that the sky had grey clouds rushing in at all directions. He just pressed the gas pedal to the floor with all his weight, and bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming. His mind frantically searched for a plan, wanting desperately to have decision on where to go, on what to do, but he couldn't focus on anything for more than a flash of a second. Anything, that is, that wasn't the feeling that cement was filling his lungs until he was choking on each breath.

He couldn't drive fast enough, the music couldn't get loud enough, he couldn't get far enough away. He wanted to run, but he didn't know where to go. He wanted to stay, but he didn't know how to take this. He was lost, and suddenly the urge to fight over took him, and not even glancing at the surrounding traffic or bothering to slow down, he spun into a U-turn and was off in search of Michael Kelso.

It took her a minute to remember to breathe. It took her several to let go of the death grip she had on the doorknob that had been keeping her standing. And after what seemed like a blinded eternity, she made her way back fully into the apartment, closed the door, and slid down it, crouching on the floor.

Her cheeks were flushed, her hands were cold. She couldn't decipher if she was feeling a million things or nothing at all. Every moment with him was exhausting. Every conversation was a battle. Every kiss was life and death rolled into one. She pressed her fingers carefully to her lips, and winced at her own touch. He was her salvation and her ruin all at once, and that was why she honestly could not decide if she loved or hate him more.

And what did he mean this wasn't over? How much more could he possibly take?

She closed her eyes and saw him hovering before her, his eyes, his smirk, taunting her for fighting a losing battle against the way he made her feel. She let out a weary sigh of desperation, and let her head fall back against the door, ignoring the sharp pain and loud thud.

She needed it over.

After storming into the basement to find nothing more than Donna and Randy sitting on the couch, Hyde had rushed back out again and back into the El Camino. He'd checked the movie theatre and the local bars, and had settled on the Hub as the only place left Fez and Kelso could go. He barely put the car in park before roughly exiting, slamming the door loudly behind him. His face must have stated his mission for as he made his way through the front door teenagers dodged out of his way. He scanned the room quickly but thoroughly. The table by the bathrooms. The arcade games. The order window. Then his eyes caught sight of a familiar face in the back corner, leaned over two barely legal girls, making them giggle flirtatiously. He clenched his fist at his side, and strode purposefully past the tables of fearful students, and tapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Kelso."

Kelso didn't turn around, merely waved his hand dismissively behind him. "Not now, man. I've made two new friends."

"Kelso." Michael straightened and turned slowly, recognizing the warning quality of Hyde's voice. Facing one of his oldest buddies, they both took a moment to take in the other's expression. Hyde's overwhelming, barely contained anger. Kelso's blatant confusion and fear.

"Hyde?"

Punch. Full of every ounce of blood, flesh, tear, anger, and pain that made up Steven Hyde, his fist made contact with Kelso's face.

As his friend looked paniced and questioningly back to him, holding his cheek in pain, Hyde felt no amount of sympathy.

"I've got one question, and I need you to be completely honest for perhaps the first time in your life."

Kelso's face, more serious than Hyde had ever seen it, blinked slowly then nodded.

"What happened in Chicago?"

"What? Hyde, we've been over this. Nothing happened."

"No, something happened. You were in a towel. And we've never really been over this. I know I said that last punch had everything I needed to say, but well, I'm obviously feeling chatty again, so I repeat…What happened?"

"Uh, ummm." Kelso's face looked nervously around, brown eyes wide and cautious. "Um, man, do we have to do this here? Can't we go somewhere else to talk?"

Hyde took one step back, allowing his friend to pass in front of him and out into the storm.

Jackie was back to watching the lightening.

She wasn't much of a drinker, but she'd felt the need for a drink once she'd pulled herself up off the floor.

She took out the etched-glass decanter, one of the few "classy" items she taken when she'd left her old house. She always kept it full, full of whiskey like her father had. The boys usually stuck to beer, so it wasn't as if she had to refill it often. But she kept it full and ready, a compulsive action she never fully understood.

Pouring the liquid into her glass, her eyes watched the lights of the storm flash and catch in the delicately decorated glass, and she felt it looked so pretty, right before she threw it back into her thirsting mouth and allowed it to ugly-burn all the way down. She gulped at it all, then refilled the glass again. Again she chugged and swallowed, her eyes tearing at the taste, blurring the image before her of darkening sky. She sucked in a sob as she poured the brown liquid again to the brim of her glass, before slamming it down again, with no intention of stopping any time soon.

The car was silent save for the drumming of the pelts of rain hitting the roof. The clouds were thickening, moving fast and layered, heavy-dark, creating a beautifully ominous sky.

Hyde still drove with great speed, his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his expression intense and waiting. He heard Kelso clear his throat nervously, and that only twisted the knot in his gut tighter.

Realizing the conversation needed a jump start, Hyde kept his voice even and empty as he spoke. "Jackie was there last night. After you all left. She'd been waiting for me."

Kelso's fearful eyes finally turned to meet Hyde's and he nodded, slowly, sadly.

"I take it things didn't go as we'd all hoped."

"No. She said some things. I said some things. Sam was there. Jacob too. And it all went to hell." Hyde's voice wavered a little at the end, a hint of his persistent anger.

"And Chicago got brought up how?"

"Me. Her. Once I got to talk to her today, she was so gone, you know. And I wanted to snap her out of it. And it just came out. I guess she's not really over it. I know I'm not. And she said things and I need to know if they are true, I need to know what really happened."

Cautiously, Kelso began, "So, you want to know if--"

But Hyde kept him short. "I want to know if you slept with her."

"Man, I don't want to get in the middle of this. It's about you, it's about Jackie, I'm not important in this, please, man, let's just not do this--" Kelso was interrupted again, this time by the slamming of Hyde's fist against the wheel.

"Damn it, Kelso, answer the fucking question!"

"No." Hyde felt himself begin to release the breath he'd been holding, only to be kicked with surprise when he heard his friend speak up again. "And yes."

"What the hell do you mean, No and Yes!" The El Camino swerved slightly with Hyde's angry surprise, and Kelso yelped in fear.

"Man, watch the road!"

Hyde just glared at him, ignoring the pleas for him to return his gaze to the highway, ignoring the thunder and the sheets of water flowing across the windshield. He just glared, gripping the wheel until the blue his veins showed dangerously on his hands.

Kelso's apprehensive squirming didn't faze Hyde in the slightest as he stared him down. "Kelso, explain what the hell that means. Now!"

"Not until you pull over the damn car!"

"Fine!"

Hyde yanked the wheel roughly, situating the El Camino on the edge of the road with a jolt as the rain only came down harder, and the two stared at each other, no remnants of their friendship apparent.

And then glaring, practically snarling, Kelso began. "It means I tried, okay. Persistently. She called, and I came, and I laid there with her while she cried. And I told her I'd have never hurt her like that. That I was stupid and careless when we were together, but that the last thing I'd ever do on purpose was hurt her, so you must not have loved her like I could, like I did. And I kissed her, and she pushed me away. So I tried again, and still she resisted. But I kept trying until she let me. And hours passed and she was still crying, and wondering why you couldn't, why you wouldn't love her. And I told her that if you didn't you were a fool. And I told her I wanted to show her how lovable she was, and try to take her pain away. And she was tired, she was drained. And she didn't push me away when I kissed her, when I pulled at her clothes to gain access to her shoulder, when I touched her so lightly through her dress. She whispered my name, I think to stop me, but I covered her lips with my own until she gave in and kissed me back. And the next thing I know, we're there, about to do it. I'm naked, and she's naked, and we're so close. And I look in her eyes for a second, and realize she's not even there. And that I am full of crap because all I was saying hadn't been about her at all. And I saw a tear slip down her cheek and I just looked down at her, hovering over her so close. And she said, "Please, Michael. I'm so tired, and I love him. I can't." So I pulled away. And I let her put her dress back on. And then she slept. And she looked so sad, so broken. But when she woke up, I was still me. And the guilt and the part of me that knew better faded away, because she's so beautiful, and well, not long after that you showed up. So, no, not really. But it was close, and oh, did I try. And I relished the idea that it might have hurt you. Because if you'd have been there, if you'd have seen the look you put in her eyes, then you'd have wanted to hurt you too."