Disclaimer: I don't own the show or characters. All I own is the writing and story.
Author's Note: Well, this was only supposed to be a drabble/ficlet...but I can't seem to write without it turning into a couple thousand word story. I'm too wordy for my own good. And I can't get enough of Judy/Jen. I would love to write a multi-chapter story of them in the future but I have another multi-chapter story I need to focus on finishing first.
Warning: Mentions of suicidal thoughts/attempts.
You Matter
Life was rough when Ted died.
But life was hell for those two—or was it three—days when Jen banished Judy from the house. Whether it was two or three days, to Jen, it felt like a fucking eternity. An eternity of hell that she created for herself by forcing Judy to leave. Sure, it was with plausible reason she made such a decision. Judy did lie to her for months. Months making her think she cared about her and wanted to be there to see her through her husband's untimely demise. His untimely demise which only happened in the first place because of Judy, herself. Jen had no choice but to get rid of Judy, to banish her from her and her kids' lives.
Albeit the plausible reasoning behind her decision, Jen sat out on the patio staring blankly ahead. Wondering why she made such a choice. Why any of them made any of the choices they made. Why it had to be Judy who'd hit and killed her husband. Why even though now she knew it was Judy—her fucking Judy of all goddamn people—and she should be glad to be rid of her, she wasn't. She wasn't glad at all that Judy was out of her life. She almost fucking missed Judy more than her own husband. Who Judy killed. What sane fucking person found life more miserable without the person who was the reason for their loved one's death than the actual deceased loved one? Maybe Jen Harding wasn't sane, after all. Because life without Judy, even if it was only two—maybe three—days, felt unbearable.
And then there was that god-awful Steve Wood.
What reason did he have to come visiting her in the dead of the night?
She was already halfway through a bottle of wine, on her patio, when she heard something rustling about near the bushes. The second her eyes shifted towards the sound, she caught a glimpse of Steve's silhouette lit up by the moon's shining light. Eyes squinted in their sockets. What the fuck was he doing walking around her yard for? She sipped the rest of her glass and set it down.
However, before she could even get up from the lawn chair, he had already made his way onto the patio. Jen gripped the sides of her seat and pushed herself up from it. There were only a couple of feet separating her from Steve. She grunted and walked closer so she could stare him over in a methodic manner. Still heavily unsure as to why the fuck he was interrupting her evening. She folded her arms over her chest, tapping her foot against the cobblestone underneath.
"What're you doing rummaging through my bushes for, Steve?" Her foot tapped louder, harsher, against the stone.
There was an anger oozing from Steve's blue eyes as he peered back at the blonde. He mirrored her stance, crossing his own arms over his chest and darkening his stare. "I wanna know where the hell Judy is. She's not answering my calls and I know she fucking told you about the hit and run—where is she?"
The hit and run. Jen clasped her hands together. She was already half drunk from the wine and pissed off over the whole hit and run and Judy situation. Steve was just making it worse by showing up here to question her on Judy's whereabouts. As if she was Judy's fucking keeper. A scoff made its way out. "The hit and run? You fucking knew about it? The hell were you two in cahoots on this?" It was a stupid question, the last one she let slip out—no matter how angry and upset she was with Judy, she couldn't see Judy premeditating a murder. Especially via a fucking hit and run. But god, the anger didn't filter her. It hardly gave her a chance to even process what she was thinking before it mercilessly spilled from her mouth.
Steve laughed. "She was driving my damn car, Jen. You think I didn't notice the human-sized dent on the windshield?"
"Oh, so, you think this is funny? Really? Were you fucking with her?"
By then, Jen was too furious—too upset—to just stand there in front of him. She paced around the patio, trying to release some of the rage but oh did that prove to be fucking impossible. It was eating her alive. At least that was what it felt like. Like there was some sort of parasite inside eroding away at her flesh. And every time she thought about the hit and run, Judy, or now fucking Steve—a little more of her flesh was dissolved.
She shook her head and looked him over. Obviously he had to have been with Judy during the incident. Why the fuck else would he be so worried about where the hell she was? The thought fueled her rage even more. So, she paced faster.
"Judy told me she wanted to stop. After hitting my husband, she wanted to stop. But said she couldn't," Jen retold what Judy had shared with her the other night. Or the other other night. Or the other other other night. She couldn't fucking remember. It felt like it was both an eternity ago and just yesterday the conversation happened between she and Judy. The conversation she wished didn't happen. She'd rather have lived the rest of her life not knowing the person who hit her husband than to know it was Judy. The one person, who even still, she loved so much. So unbelievably fucking much that it was making trying to hate her a terrible challenge. Maybe she truly couldn't hate Judy. No matter how hard she tried to. Judy Hale was unhate-able. At least to everyone other than Detective Perez, she thought.
Jen walked closer to Steve and looked intensely into his eyes. His eyes that automatically deepened the anger she continued to experience. She, in a fucked up way, hoped he was in the car with Judy when it happened. So she could put the blame and rage on him. Because he was hate-able. She didn't need to put in any effort to hate him. She just did. Hated him. Loathed, despised the fuck out of Steve. "Why couldn't Judy stop, Steve? Why couldn't she fucking stop after running over my damn husband? She wanted to stop, she told me and I believe her. What did you do?"
The audacity. The fucking audacity. Steve's eyes glared back at Jen. Judy fucking confessed to her about the hit and run and Jen had the damn audacity to turn it around on him? Who the fuck did she think she was? "Judy fucking told you she did it and you're gonna fucking defend her ass and try to pin it on me? What kinda crazy are you? I mean I know Judy's fucking crazy…must of rubbed some of her craziness onto you, huh?"
"Stop. Stop with the fucking crazy. Judy's not fucking crazy. And neither am I," Jen yelled back, anger seething beneath her skin the more words that spewed from Wood's mouth.
Should she be standing there more focused on defending Judy than her own husband? Probably not. But did she give a shit about that anymore? Hell no. Life was too fucking short to spend what was left of it angry at Judy. Despite her attempts at trying to fight it, she loved Judy—she fucking loved her in a way she didn't think was possible. And that fucking love didn't suddenly disappear because of Judy's confession. Deep down, under all the anger and rage, Jen knew in her heart Judy hadn't killed her husband out of spite. Knew that she didn't keep it from her out of spite, either. Judy was the least spiteful person out there. She only wished Judy would have been upfront about it immediately. Sure, she would have been angry but maybe then she wouldn't be standing here in front of Judy's ex about one step away from choking him.
"You know what? Yeah I was fucking with Judy when it happened and yeah I did tell her to keep going. You know why I did?"
Jen felt a slight amount of unease with how close Steve was getting to her. She reached her hands out in front of her and pushed him away by the cusps of his shoulders. His disclosure wasn't much of a shock for her. She figured as much. Once the anger had subsided and the desire to hate Judy went away. She knew the only reason Judy wouldn't have told her had to be from the likes of goddamn Steve Wood. Who, though she'd never officially been told, Jen sensed was abusive to Judy on some level. Another reason she couldn't fucking stand that snake of a man. It all made sense now. Why Judy kept such a secret from her. It was staring her right in the face now. Rather, he was staring her right in the face. A breath forced its way out; it took everything inside of her to not grab him by the throat right then and there and choke the life right out of him.
"Why? Why the hell did ya tell her to keep going? You're the crazy one, Steve, you're the fucking crazy one here. Judy would have fucking stopped if it weren't for you…you piece of fucking—"
"Your husband wanted to die, Jen. I saw him jump out in front of the car. He wanted to die. He wanted to be free of you, obviously. I mean look at you—you're fucking insane. I felt for him. I know what it's fucking like to be stuck in a relationship with someone who makes you wish you were dead. So I did him a favor and you. Wish someone woulda done the same for me when I was with fucking Judy, god."
The last straw was pulled with that comment. Tears relinquished from her eyes and she swung a fist forward until it came roughly in contact with Steve's face. She didn't know what hurt more the thought of Ted turning to fucking suicide because of her or Steve saying Judy made him want to commit suicide. But, no matter which it was, she couldn't control herself anymore. She reached in her jean's pocket for the bird Judy had created specifically for Henry—something she still had yet to give to him—and brought it up to hit Steve in the back of the head with.
She stood there and watched in slow motion as he stumbled backwards, finally landing in the pool moments later. It took her a second to realize what happened after it happened but as soon as she did panic overtook her. What the fuck was she doing? Was she seriously so blinded by her rage that she nearly killed a man?
She walked over to the pool and stood hovering, contemplating whether or not to help him out of it. Part of her wanted him to drown, to die and vanish like how his words made her yearn to do. But the other part wasn't fond over the idea of having his death hung over her for eternity. Fortunately she didn't have to make a decision either way. He came up out of the pool on his own and she watched as he ran the hell out of there as fast as he could.
The further away he got the cloudier her vision became. It wasn't until they'd dripped down her cheeks in relentless truckloads that she finally acknowledged she had been crying. Full on completely crying. Something she hardly ever done. But now she couldn't stop herself. She almost fucking killed a man. Almost committed fucking murder. She couldn't collect herself. She needed Judy. God did she fucking need Judy.
It was dark out when Judy walked up to the side of the road where Ted Harding's shrine was. Where she fucking ran him over and killed him. Where Steve refused to allow her to stop and try to save his life. Where she now was hoping her life would be ended. She couldn't handle the guilt any longer, it tore her up inside. Knowing how much Jen couldn't stand to be in even the same room as her—it was too much, too painful. She loved Jen with her whole heart and to know Jen no longer wanted her, rightfully so, she couldn't see a future on this Earth anymore.
A car came, its lights beaming down the street, and she hurried to stand in front of it. But the closer it got the slower it drove and as soon as it was in touching distance, the car stopped completely and the driver slammed on the horn. Judy slid to the ground, tears streaming along her cheeks, and cried there for what felt like decades but was really only minutes. Her eyes watched the car speed away and she brought her knees up to her chest.
The tears refused to let up and she no idea what time it was or how long she'd been sitting there. Until her phone vibrated in her jacket's pocket. She reached in for it, shocked to see Jen's name appear on the screen. It didn't take more than a split second for her to hit the answer button. "Jen?" Her voice softly called out, sniffles lightly entering through as she spoke.
"Jude, Judy. Come home. Please, please come home."
The breaking of Jen's voice shattered Judy's heart. She rapidly picked herself up off the road and started walking the other way. Tears remained falling, even more now that she heard the neediness in Jen's voice. The brokenness, Jen's own sniffles sounding into the receiver of the phone she held tight against her ear. "I'm on my way, Jen. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"
"No, Judy, nothing is okay. I, I just need you home. Please," Jen begged through the phone, having long vacated the backyard. She now sat on the floor of the guest house, her deceased husband's gun cradled in her lap. It shocked even herself to be sitting in there with his gun in her hands. But after the whole nearly killing Steve incident, she couldn't keep herself together anymore. She needed a way out. This gun could give her that.
Only sitting with it for a few minutes was enough time for her to realize what a stupid idea that would be. To use her dead husband's gun to kill herself with. The pain it would cause her kids encouraged her not to pull the trigger. But she still needed something to help the pain. And the only person who she would ever, ever, fucking crave physical comfort from was Judy.
"I'm coming, Jen. Stay put, I'll be there in a few minutes. I promise. I love you," she whispered the last part. And meant it. Every bit of it. She loved Jen in a way she couldn't put words to.
By the time Judy finally made it there and—after Jen advised what part of the house she was in—entered through the door of the guest house, what part of her heart hadn't previously shatter did so now. She swiftly walked over to Jen, sliding onto the floor beside her and threw her arms around Jen's waist. Seeing her with a gun in her hands brought a shudder to her. Had Jen been in there, holding it—contemplating whether to take her own life with it? Fuck, she thought, had they both been planning to kill themselves in the same night? They fucking were perfect for each other. Two perfect train wrecks melded into one big one.
"Jen? Jen, uh, what were you going to do with that gun?" Her voice shook as she softly questioned the blonde in her arms. She pressed her chin delicately into the top of Jen's head and gradually rocked the pair of them back and forth. Jen's call saved her life and now she realized she needed to do the same for her. She had to get that gun the hell out of Jen's reach.
It was a relief having Judy there. Having Judy's warm, secure, arms wrapped so tightly around her body. The anger she once had for the brunette immediately washed away. How could she ever be mad at Judy? Her Judy? Judy would always be there for her; she cared, and Jen regretted the way she'd behaved towards her recently. She latched on tightly to Judy, burying her face in thick waves of brown hair.
"Jen," Judy firmly pressed on. Arms tightening around her. She couldn't let this slide. "What were you going to do with that gun? Tell me, now."
Jen sighed. Tears easing up but sniffles shaking their way out. "I was deciding on whether to shoot myself or not. I quickly chose not to, so, you don't need to worry, Jude."
Judy shook her head and brought one hand up to frame around the other's cheek. "But you still thought about it, Jen. I'm already worried—"
"Okay, I get that, but it doesn't matter. Okay. It doesn't fucking matter, Jude. Nothing does. I, I don't."
"What? What was that?" Judy tilted her head and swallowed a lump. How did she not notice just how much suffering her best friend was going through until now? Sure, they had a little rough patch, but she should have seen this before then. She should have realized. But she didn't. She breathed in deeply and caressed her fingers lightly along the flesh of Jen's cheek. "It does matter. You were thinking about shooting yourself, Jen. That fucking matters to me. You fucking matter."
Judy bit down on her lip and felt another bout of tears welling up beneath her lids. How vastly it hurt to know how intensely her Jen was hurting. How close Jen came to almost taking her life. She shook her head sadly, leaning closer to peck a soothing kiss onto Jen's lips. Jen was everything to her. She couldn't imagine what it would be like without Jen. Her head shook once more and she let her forehead rest up against the blonde's.
"God, Jen. Jen, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you felt this badly that you…that you thought shooting yourself might be your best option," the words tremored slightly from Judy's mouth. Her arm around Jen's waist pulled her closer. "But please, Jen, please don't say you don't matter. That's not true. Not even a little bit. You matter so much and to so many fucking people. To your sons. And, god, I can't even express enough how much you fucking matter to me but you do. More than anything. I love you. I love you so, so, so much. You're everything to me, sweetheart. I can't—I can't imagine my life without you."
That was all it took for Jen to find herself blubbering once again. She threw her arms around Judy and embraced her just as tightly back. "I love you so much, too, Jude. I don't ever want to go another day without you again. I fucking mean it, okay? You're my heart. My whole damn fucking heart."