To Watch Trees Smoulder and Burn
You wake up to shafts of sunlight streaming in to your room, heating up your skin. Yawning you turn over in bed to see if your lover is still asleep beside you. You're surprised to find she isn't because she's a late sleeper, something that annoys you greatly but then you hear the shower running and you know what she's doing. She's in there, washing away the sins of the night, scrubbing herself clean of the deed.
You take a deep breath to calm the swell of anger that bubbles up inside you as you sit up and get out of your bed. You pull on your dressing gown as you leave your room; you wake Henry up and then make your way downstairs to start the coffee. Its ten minutes before Henry appears downstairs, ready for breakfast and as he sits to eat his cereal Emma finally stumbles downstairs.
You are leaning against the sink looking out the window when you feel her stop behind you, her hands dropping to your waist as she leans in and pecks you on the cheek. You stiffen under her lips but she doesn't seem to notice and if she does she's ignored it, just like she's ignored most everything else happening around her. Anger again bubbles up in you at the thought that she can be so oblivious, that she can truly not see that you know or that she's painfully obvious of her misdeeds.
"Morning babe," Emma says chirpily and for a moment all you want to do is hit her. It's irrational but you can't help being angry at how well she can act as if nothing is wrong. She acts as if you two are a perfect and happy couple but your not, you have never been a perfect couple, you know that and she knows that. You wonder how long she'll keep fooling herself into believing you are both happy when she is out sleeping with someone else every chance she gets. Surely she knows no happy person repeatedly cheats on their supposed true love.
Placing your almost empty coffee cup in the sink you pull away from her embrace as you speak, "Good morning," you say your tone distant.
You quickly walk out of the kitchen, heading upstairs towards your bedroom before Emma can ask what's wrong. You shower and dress quickly, putting your make-up on effortlessly. You are in one of your favourite dresses, a deep red dress that stops an inch or two above your knees and accentuates your body spectacularly. You haven't worn it in a long time, not since Emma's been in Storybrooke you are sure and you are wearing it now because you need to make yourself feel beautiful.
There are times when you look in a mirror and all you see is something ugly and disgusting, tainted with the blood of victims. There are also times when you feel inadequate, where you feel like you are nothing and can't please anyone. It's a horrible product of your upbringing, of the ever constant barrage of insults from your mother and it's a mentality you've never been able to shake. You hate when you feel like this because it always leads you to do something destructive, something that only ever hurts you more than anyone else.
Right now is one of those times and with everything that's going on in your relationship with Emma, it's only making it worse. She claims you are her true love and you want so desperately to believe that because you need that devotion but she strays constantly and in your mind it must mean there's something wrong with you. There's always been something wrong with you, something not quite right and off that made it almost impossible for anyone to love you but you love, you love with a fierceness never shown towards you. It's your own personal curse and it always has been but the dark curse amplified it by thousands because even your own son and lover couldn't love you right.
You try to shake the horrid thoughts from your head as you make your way downstairs but you know they'll linger for days to come anyway. You stop in the foyer, calling out to Henry to hurry up so you can drop him off to school like you do every morning. The young boy appears in the foyer and tells you that Emma is going to drop him off at school instead and you try not to show how your face falls at his words. Instead you smile tightly at him, wishing him a good day at school and making your way to your car alone.
You arrive at work early and work steadily through the morning even as your mind wanders to dark places it probably shouldn't. It's around 11:30 that you drop your pen down on your desk and let your head fall into your hands. Tears of frustration and anger well in your eyes but won't ever let them fall, not even behind closed doors. An idea quickly forms in your mind and you stand abruptly, grabbing your coat and bag as you head out of your office. You stop and tell your secretary that you don't know how long you'll be and tell her to clear your schedule for the rest of the day.
You drive to the outskirts of town, heading to the big mansion on the hill that you've never actually stepped foot in. You are nervous and silently wonder how this particular encounter will go down. He's probably still angry with you and you can't really blame him but you kept your promise, Grace has a good life and you think he should be grateful for that at least.
Pulling up outside his house you take a deep breath before getting out of your car and heading up the steps that lead to his car. He must have seen you pull up because you only have to knock once before he pulls the door open roughly, glaring at you through slightly insane eyes. You smile at him softly for a moment as he continues to glare; he is waiting for you to speak, to ask to be let inside because he won't offer otherwise.
"Jefferson," you say softly, not your usual tone but you've known him too long to fake with him, "May I please come in?" You ask, gesturing behind him slightly with your hand.
"Why should I let you?" he asks gruffly and you can hear the anger in his voice.
"Because I want to talk," you say and he relents with an eye roll but you're not surprised because he's never really been able to deny you. There's only ever been one time he's said no to you but you'd managed to manipulate him into doing your bidding anyway. That manipulation had cost him his daughter and that is something you deeply regret because no matter what had happened, Jefferson really had been a friend once.
You walk passed him into the house, lightly brushing his shoulder with your hand as you did so. He closes the door behind you both and leads you in to a little sitting room off of the foyer. Looking around you notice the old sets of china teacups scattered around the room and avert your eyes to the floor. You don't look at him for a moment because you feel guilty for the obsessive need he has to keep reminders of Grace around his house. Pushing the guilt away you finally look up at him and see he is watching you curiously, his anger upon first seeing you has obviously subsided.
"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as he leaned against the wall next to the door.
You smile at him as you speak, "I want your help."
AN: Thank you for all the lovely reviews. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review! :) LT.
