A/N: I know, six months! I realize I have been a crappy writer, and I'm so, so sorry. I just had a lot going on in my life for a little while there. Ended up quitting my job (twice), spent a long studying out of the country, and it has been a massive ups and down period for me. A lot of stress that I'm keen to forget and some very memorable moments I'm glad I got to live fully. But now I'm back.
Chapter 4 – You're My Guiding Light
Shelby didn't know what to do with herself. Not that she could do anything at all, and that was certainly the root of the problem. Her arms, shoulders and back were burning with tension so severely that her whole body started to quiver again, and she wished she could convince herself that the wounds the handcuffs were inflicting were not going to get that much worse. But the blood had her freaked out, and she couldn't brave against it and find a less straining position. So she stared at the ceiling.
Her chest was heavy, as if there was an elephant on top of her, and she was sure her heart was not supposed to be beating this erratically, but she felt a distance from those feelings, almost as if they weren't happening to her at all. She couldn't focus; her mind felt simply weightless and she wasn't sure if she could indeed still see sparkles of light exploding in her peripheral vision or if her mind was flashing them back to her.
Her toes started tingling again and she tried rubbing them against the covers, but it only intensified, and then she felt her fingers tingle too. The room seemed to be spinning, and her stomach was swirling in accordance, and she just shut her eyes and prayed it would stop. It didn't.
Shelby curled her legs to her side, trying to make herself as small as possible, but that too was of little comfort. Not at that point, when the bed seemed to be dancing under her helpless body, violently swinging her world until she felt she would dispose of whatever content her body still held. She clamped her mouth shut and clenched her eyes tighter, and a little whimper of horror escaped through her nose, the queasiness drenching her senses to the point that even her terror and anger were besieged. Tears pooled against the side of her nose, and she tried to rub them off against her right arm, but the movement caused the handcuff to grind against the cut on the other arm bringing out fresh tears.
She wished that Jesse had meant five minutes when he said that they needed time, but she knew very well that wasn't the case. So she was hoping he would take a couple of hours, calm down and let her lose. Or that at least she would pass out and sleep through it. She doubted it, however. Although she was immobile, she was fairly agitated. She was still shuddering slightly from nerves; and she kept humming from the back of her throat into her mouth – a nervous tic she had had since she was little. Her fingertips were tapping randomly into her palms – another symptom of anxiety. She knew she needed to stop, quiet down and let the exhaustion swallow her, but her body just wouldn't shut down. And she couldn't help but think Jesse might be capable of leaving her restrained like that for days even. It wasn't like she could imagine him above torture anymore.
She wondered if the release of adrenaline had been so big out there in the woods that she was just stuck in overdrive. It wasn't simply about the survival of the body, but maybe of the mind too. She needed to be hyper enough to not dwell on what she had just suffered, to not be emotional about it. But now, she was starting to feel it all tear at her— the baffling realization of just what Jesse had done, the inability to comprehend or accept it, and the stomach-turning anger.
She knew this was part of the path that had gotten them there. She felt, of course, responsible. She had been a huge influence on Jesse's current personality. He had come to her as a not so easy, overly confident performer, and she had shaped him into a soldier for Vocal Adrenaline. She had fed his competitiveness, encouraged him to play dirty and be ruthless, taught him to never settle for 'no' and do whatever it took, no matter how questionable, and she had endorsed his fickle, self-serving temper.
Shelby had left her home early. She had been a kid, a bit younger than Jesse, and she hadn't known one tenth as much about the brutality of the world as she had envisioned. Adding giving up a child and seeing her dreams turn to ashes for reasons beyond her comprehension, and she had needed to become harder than she would have liked.
Life, it seems, always finds new effective curveballs to sweep you off your feet. So, kindness had never been on her teaching agenda. She was known to be merciless and cold towards her competition, and that was the attitude she expected from her students, in show choir and in life. Think first of yourself, then at least the next ten times, think of yourself too.
She understood that, to an extent, it was the St. James' fault too. Shelby didn't think either would be supportive of Jesse's actions that night at all. They were fair, good people; Heather was in the FBI, after all. Nevertheless, they were not serene and diplomatic people in the least. In fact, she got the impression that although Jesse didn't bring it up much, and he had quite a devotion and reverence to his father, that one of Theodore shortcomings was that he could be quite tyrannical and ill-tempered when opposed. That hardly bode for agreeable, yielding children.
That didn't wash away the culpability from Jesse's hands. She was a firm believer that every person had the tools to craft themselves into the people they wanted to be. But the problem with Jesse was that these were his three role models in life: Heather, Theodore and herself. They were all Jesse loved, admired, and wanted to be. Three people that, by large, let anger fuel their efforts and carry them through every day.
She wanted Jesse's first step towards adulthood to be disentangling himself from this dangerous web of barely self-recriminating hostility. Instead, she got a display of a self-aggrandizing domineering man who wouldn't accept a loss he should have, at least in some degree, foreseen. This was not a kid that was ready to step into real life, especially not show business. And that only made her feel like she had failed Jesse in one more unbearable way.
However, Jesse had failed her too. He had shattered her blind trust in him into a million pieces. He had ruined what she once considered to be a heartfelt, innocent connection. Before all of this had happened, just the thought of Jesse could put a smile on her face; now it came with a bucket full of anxiety. The things going through his mind terrified her.
"Am I ever going to go home again?" As absurd at the question might have seemed hours before, it was hammering around inside her brain now, and she worked herself up to such a fretful state, that she started tossing in the bed slightly until a ripping pain soared through her. She yelped and her body arched in spasm, the hot pain traveling through her body until even her toes were curled in agony.
Shelby felt like the air was wet and she was drowning; her muscles and arteries were pulsing, and she didn't grasp that her body was trashing of its own accord and her wrists were getting lacerated.
She was unable to notice the door opening or even the lights turning on before a frantic Jesse hopped on the bed.
"Shelby, what's wrong? I heard you screaming, what's wrong?" he asked rapidly, sounding very panicky.
Shelby tried to answer, but was only capable of staggering through a series of unintelligible sounds; the difficulty breathing and urge to throw up were just overpowering. Jesse tried to caress her forehead, but she flinched away; her eyes had shut tightly and she was moaning laboriously.
Shelby felt Jesse struggle to get the handcuffs off her; he was moving slowly and gently, and whispering some reassuring things that she couldn't discern. As soon as she felt her arms being freed, she curled herself into a ball. She knew she had to breathe through the pain, so she kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see any more blood. It was sufficient that she could feel it.
She was suddenly lifted, and she wanted to shout but all she managed was to groan. Jesse brought her close to him and cradled her against his chest, murmuring repeatedly for her to try to calm down. She wanted to slap him, to punch him, to rebel against this care; yet, she had no energy. Even as the pain was dying down into a persistent, but thankfully confined throb, she couldn't move. Jesse's hug had a familiarity that was both unnerving and soothing.
His hands were so soft as they stroked her arms and back and massaged her scalp. Jesse's lips kept pressing hectic, desperate kisses on her hairline and forehead, and he was still mumbling something that sounded like an apology under his breath, but Shelby just gave up and let the darkness engulf her.
TGO
Jesse sat at the couch and looked at his stretched hands; they were shaking relentlessly. No matter how many deep breaths he took, how many times her combed his fingers through his mess of wavy hair, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. The lump in the back of his throat wouldn't go away. His heart's thumping didn't hurt any less.
He would like very much to be able to convince himself it was the physical effort that had left him in that state. But hell, that was a weak rhetoric to sell even to himself. He knew what had set him off.
Shelby was the type of person that always focused on what was broken; it was what had allowed her to become such a striving coach. They could be marvelous on the stage; she would find the flaws. She was wired to focus on the negative, always. It was infuriating.
And granted, most people would only be able to focus on the negative aspects of a kidnapping, and the regrettable things he had done and said through the course of it, but he felt they were terribly stuck and her determination to only center her attention on all the things that were incredibly wrong between them was keeping them from figuring out a good outcome for the shit-storm they were trapped in.
So, he was pissed at Shelby. For six years she had allowed him to grow closer to her, to learn to trust her and to lean on her, to love her. Now she had only one directive for him: stop caring, stop trying. He had exhausted all the possibilities. He had insisted on every argument he could possibly conceive: he had explained himself, he had even revealed his plan, which, to his dismay, had horrified Shelby more than he could ever have anticipated. Still, she refused to change her mind, to try anything different; by now she was even refusing to talk anymore.
He was never going to tell her so, but he thought it was partially why she had failed to become a big star. Shelby was a great performer, and a captivating one at that. But as talented and incredibly smart as the woman was, she would shut down when something was not all right and she would dwell on things forever. Shelby moved at her own pace, and it was not a pace that favored anything but predictable success and perfection. He was sure everything that had been happening since she saw Rachel at Sectionals was too much, too fast for Shelby's highly systematic self-possession. He wanted to hold her hand and help pull her through it. And he wouldn't deny she had fair reasons to want distance from him, but they just didn't have the time she would need to make things right. If they took this at her pace, he would be in California and he didn't know just which level of denial she would have reached before the loneliness, the regrets and the unhappiness engulfed her.
He couldn't help but to think of his mother. Shelby reminded him so much of her in that they both had their own ways to go about things and neither of them tolerated being questioned on their own well-being. Heather would tell everybody how she loved so much the marriage that didn't exist in any conventional sphere anymore and the kids she barely saw three times a year, even though one had spent quite some time at rehab and the other struggled with bulimia for four years, and mainly, she would always emphasize how much she loved her daily routine of hunting monsters all over Ohio. Now, Jesse didn't question his mother's hunger for making the world a safer place, not that she had a warm spot in her heart for her family. However, every time he saw her, it seemed that her deep green eyes had seemed less alive.
He had no idea how to bring his mother back, how to make her passionate and engaged again. But he couldn't lose another woman that he loved. The fire that Shelby had exuded rebuffing him had been the most fervently he had witness her fighting for anything.
He recognized that there was only so much he could push her with this tactic; he knew from hanging around his mother when he was younger that somebody who endured a long captivity would eventually become conformed and adapt to the situation. That was not what he wanted, no matter what he had fed Shelby. In fact, he had only said that because he knew it would cause a strong reaction in her. He had her fighting for herself, and that was a relief, but now he had to convince her it was worth fighting for them.
In regards to that, he was a bit pissed at himself too, of course. While a part of him had been trying to push her over the edge, to break her open and expose every bit of raw spirit she possessed, another part of him had gotten genuinely upset. His blood had boiled, and he had charged against her in a way that, he realized now, it was simply inacceptable.
He knew he should never have dragged her into the woods; that careless act would accomplish nothing more than additional negative feelings from the surely already high pile Shelby was harboring. At least. Jesse couldn't help but flash back to the conversation he had had with his mother when she had gotten the phone call from school, informing about the whole Rachel debacle and his three day suspension (that had been on Mr. Baris part only – Shelby had submitted them to if-you-are-so-intimidated-you're-gonna-train-until-midnight treatment for two weeks and prohibited anybody that took part of the egging from receiving rewards for Regionals and Nationals). Heather had travelled all the way from Cleveland and arrived in Toledo livid, spitting fire; but it was the lone thing she had said once she had calmed down and expressed her deep disappointment that had stayed with him.
"Abuse like this can hurt someone emotionally in ways you can't expect; something you think it's harmless can hit a person deeply depending on their personalities or baggage," she had explained sadly before having to find her way back to her all consuming work. If his mother was so distressed about the situation with Rachel, he didn't even want to imagine her reaction to this abduction. But he was most concerned about how right she might have been.
Shelby had been taking some of his abuse kicking and screaming. And that was what he expected. This was his resilient, backbiting Shelby. When he had abandoned her on the clearing, he had expected her to work herself up. That was why he had continued to circle around her, mulling over things, even as she shouted his name repeatedly. However, the second he heard her stumbling to the hard floor, his heart had nearly stopped. He had wanted to frighten her, but not that much. Not falling to the ground, having a panic attack much. Not bloodied wrist much. He was starting to get worried about her.
His mother's warning was resounding more strongly within him every second. What if his game had stricken Shelby harder than he had imagined it would? What if she wasn't as tough as he had always perceived her to be and he had done something that could scar her for life?
Jesse brushed his eyes with his trembling palms. He really wished there was any alcohol in the cabin, but his mother had a very strict rule about that. He was considering a hot shower, when a bloodcurdling scream reached his ears and made him jump on his feet.
Jesse had never heard anything like that, and it was all the more daunting because it had to have come from Shelby. Composed Shelby that, yes, sometimes yelled at her students when she was really frustrated, but never, ever showed emotion that compared to that. The yelp was raw, and it hit him brutally, springing him into immediate motion.
Jesse was at the door right away, raging a battle to manage to put the key in and unlock it. He ran inside as soon as he pried it open and flung himself on the bed. Shelby's usually pale complexion was tinged a deep crimson, and she was once again battling for air. His hands were on her chest and neck, trying to help her, and feeling for her very accelerated heartbeat, but it soon became clear Shelby didn't even notice him doing any of those things. She didn't acknowledge any of his questions either. He touched her cheek softly, hoping it would break whatever stupor she was in, but all she did was recoil.
He realized then he would have to uncuff her before he tried anything else, because neither of them could do something while she was so tightly restrained. He fished the tiny keys out of his pocket hurriedly and bent towards the headboard, and that's when he saw it. Shelby's wrists were botched up. The cut on her right one had gashed and now a good part of her forearm was covered in blood; the cuts on the other wrist didn't look so serious, but there was an ugly bruise around it.
He tried to work cautiously to remove the handcuffs, particularly on the arm that was more damaged. He didn't want to worsen things for her, so it took a few minutes, especially since his hands weren't exactly steady at that moment. Shelby managed to stay still, but through her clenched jaw she was groaning in a way that made it clear she was in so, so much pain.
"Shelby, I'm sorry and I'm trying to get you out, just please… Try to take a deep breath. Please, take a deep breath for me. C'mon. I'm so, so sorry, but you need to be calm."
Jesse prayed Shelby would listen to his words; that they would break into her fog. He couldn't assess the severity of her wounds, but he imagined that the issue wasn't that the pain it was causing her was excruciating or even worse than the one from her head wound; she just seemed to have withdrawn into it and let it shock all her senses. She just wasn't responsive in any way, and he needed her to be rational enough to cognize that she wasn't going to die from it. He needed her to stop freaking out.
Once he had succeeded in removing the metal cuffs from Shelby's arms, she turned away from him, but it seemed almost an unconscious decision. She curled into herself to a point in which Jesse couldn't even discern if she was still hyperventilating or starting to sob. As daring a move as it was, he didn't brood much over it, before pulling her up and hugging her in a way he knew was soothing. He had held his little sister Sophie after her one too many relapses, while she cried about her inability to feel normal, to accept her body or to like herself in any way at all.
And the same feelings that tore him apart whenever he had consoled Sophie were burning a hole through his heart now. Shelby was so badly injured, and he was responsible for this. He had seen that she had cut herself before he had locked her up, he should never have bound her like that. All he could do was keep saying "I'm so sorry," but he knew that wasn't as effective as he wished it would be. There was no way to verbally express how devastated and distressed he was feeling, seeing her in that state.
Jesse caressed her back, and then her arm, feeling every single raised hair on her velvety skin. Her skin was a bit cold, which he thought was weird considering she was so agitated. He kept apologizing profusely, half hoping she would acknowledge it and half expecting her to pull away and slap him. He kissed the top of her head which was covered with a bit of cold sweat; that startled him into wondering just how poorly she was feeling, but he didn't have long to linger on it as he felt her muscles relax under his embrace and her head become heavy on his shoulder.
The first thing to pass through Jesse when he fully comprehended Shelby was out cold was despair. He actually shook her for a couple of seconds, calling her name, before sense descended on him and he decided to even check her vitals. He was not a doctor or even anything of the sort of a science geek, but before both Patrick and Sophie were sent to military boarding school, he had shared a house with a brother that abused drugs and a sister that was constantly malnourished and hungry; so he had made it his duty to be able to tell if a person needed an ambulance.
Superficially, by his amateurish opinion, she seemed fine. Her heart-beating had slowed down to an acceptable rhythm and she was finally breathing normally now that she wasn't actively panicking. However, he couldn't really tell if she required medical attention without taking a closer look at her wrists; a task made impossible by the way Shelby had tucked both of her arms close to her body.
Jesse pulled the pillow he had given her earlier to the middle of the bed and carefully lowered Shelby into the mattress. He went to the bathroom and retrieved a first aid kit, a few moist towels and also found a few extra pillows on his way back to the bedroom.
Jesse put an added pillow under Shelby's head to insure it would be propped on a better angle for her to breathe, and then slipped a pillow under each of her arms, regardless of how he would get rid of the blood stains later. Again, he didn't have the qualifications to treat her in any possible level, so he was playing it by ear and with the little common sense he thought he had.
He used the moist towels to clean the blood from her right arm to the point that he could actually see the gash. There were actually three different cuts now, one that didn't seem very bad on the external part of her arm, and two on the internal, sensitive spot of her wrists; those were the one that bled so much. Jesse had barely passed Biology, so he didn't know if he should be worried about all the veins and artery that were around that general area, but he was still greatly concerned. She was still bleeding a little, and hell, it might not be enough to kill her (and maybe her artery was okay after all), but he was sure a doctor needed to take a look at her. Maybe she needed stitches, and if not, at the very least she would probably need some medicine in order to not get a ghastly infection.
He imbued a cotton swab with some anti-septic liquid he found in the kit, and cleaned the cuts in a way he believed to be somewhat properly, being very grateful for the first time that Shelby was unconscious; he remembered this stuff stung a lot and the last thing he wanted was for her to be experiencing more pain.
Just as he was finishing up with the cuts on her other hand, however, Shelby stirred and moaned under her breath. He was sure the color had drained from his face and he stilled, hoping she would stay out, but her eyelids battled delicately and she looked at him. Her always intense green eyes were glazy and dazed.
"Go back to sleep, Shelby," he muttered tenderly, his free hand accidentally resting on top of her stomach, but Shelby just blinked at him and licked her dry lips. Jesse dabbed the swab quickly over the rest of the cut, and even then Shelby hissed and shut her eyes in response to the pain.
He started applying some aloe vera gel over the cuts, expecting her to nod off if he didn't keep talking to her, but in a few seconds she was staring at him again. Her face held this weird scowl and he could only foresee that she might be really pissed and trying to get some wind to vent it.
However, all that came all of her mouth when she finally talked was "I adopted a baby", and Jesse had to stop and contemplate if one of them could possibly be hallucinating.
"What? Shelby, what?" Jesse propelled himself on his elbow and towered over her to gaze into her eyes more easily, but now Shelby's eyes were just unfocussed.
"You don't get to take that away from me." Shelby was clearly only half conscious; her voice was laced with grogginess, and her words stumbled out of her amidst long pauses and heavy intakes. "You don't get to take away my freedom, my life, my chance at happiness…"
Jesse was stunned into silence. That was not at all what he wanted to do, on the contrary! And since when did she have a baby, why had he no idea about it and where the hell was said child right at that moment? He instantly started to seriously freak out. Why didn't Shelby mention she had a baby to get home to?
"Shelby…" he managed to mumble nervously, but he was cut out by her.
"You don't own me," her whisper was strangled and he thought she had succeed in holding a sob in, but a tear still slid down the side of her face.
Jesse rubbed little circles on her stomach and she seemed to calm down considerably. Just enough for him to be able to ask her if her baby was okay without her, and for her to nod tiredly, so at least he could breathe now too. Jesse bandaged both of her arms, Shelby's half-open eyes following his every move. When he was finally done, he sat on his heels and looked at her with a sober expression.
"I don't want to own you, Shelbs." He wanted to continue, to unleash all of his emotions on her, but the woman was barely awake and it wasn't the right time. Jesse searched the little velvet bag his mother always kept inside the kit; every house they had always had some basic medicine, ever since they were babies. There were three different types of painkillers, the off-the-counter variety, and he waved them in front of Shelby's face, questioning if there was anything there she was used to taking. Shelby looked from one to the other for several moments, before she grabbed the ibuprofen.
"Hold on, I'll grab you a glass of water," Jesse said, already crawling off the bed.
"No, it's fine." Shelby took a pill off the small case and swallowed it without fuss. Jesse's eyes must have been wide in awe, because she actually chuckled. Honestly, it had been a long time now since Shelby had been openly amused by him, and it was as welcome as it was a heartbreaking insight. "No gag reflex," she added teasingly, and he thought there was the ghost of a smirk looming over her face, but she was just so tired.
Shelby turned on her side, both of her arms still resting comfortably on the pliable cushion. There was so much unsaid between them right now; so many things to try and fix. Jesse felt an urgency now pulsing more than when he had grabbed Shelby from her office, but he felt he owed it to her not to discuss anything serious at that time. She was too vulnerable to fight her own battles, she was sleepy, and well, now she was drugged.
Jesse sat against the headboard next to her and faced Shelby. She seemed so small and defenseless all of a sudden. He couldn't help but to reach out and stroke her silky hair, and he felt even worse when all the reaction it enticed was a sigh. Her eyes held a pleading quality that tore at him, and he knew he was making things more difficult for her, but how could he leave her when the last time he did so, she ended up hurting herself? No, he needed to be with her; even if it was hard for the both of them.
"Tell me about him."
Shelby frowned, and seemingly made a monumental effort just to ask, "Him?"
"The baby."
At that, Shelby smiled. And boy did he miss her open, warm, earnest smiles. He could just melt into them.
"It's a she. Beth. The little girl Quinn gave birth to."
"How did you get Quinn and Puck to choose you to adopt?"
"I don't know. Showing up at the right place, at the right time. I confess it was a bit of crass opportunism, but… You should see her. She's so perfect."
Shelby's beautiful face was illuminated. He could trace the happiness through every little pore. It was gorgeous. It made him happy. How could he ever try to take that away from her? How could she think he would? Yes, everything he had done to her had been grisly, and he still intensively craved her presence in his life; he craved the continuance of their relationship and maybe even more. Nevertheless, he loved her and he wouldn't destroy such a magical occurrence in her life if he had known.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Jesse's voice wasn't hard or demanding. He just felt defeated, like her attempts to push him out of her life had just become too real. Not talking to him was one thing, keeping a secret about something so major, that spelled that she really didn't want anything to do with him.
He knew Shelby had taken note of the anguished tone of his voice because he saw her sink her face into the pillow.
"I was afraid." She spoke so quietly, but he still could discern it in her voice. She wasn't ashamed to have been scared of him, because she was still terrified.
"Shelby, what did you think I was going to do?"
Jesse pressed, his hand going through her hair to the base of her neck and forcing her to look at him. He knew right away it was the wrong thing to do. Shelby once dazed eyes had become wide and alert. But she clenched her jaw and he saw something small spark in her; Shelby didn't back down without a fight, not even while groggy and weak.
"Is this the part where you tell me you'd never hurt me?" she barked, and her voice, coarse as it was, made it even more intimidating than if she was charging at him with full force. "You held a gun to my head. You are holding me against my will and acting insanely. You threatened my life."
"I did not," Jesse cut her off, jumping from his place, but at her raised eyebrow, he raised his hands in surrender. He had never meant to threaten her life, obviously, but he was willing to admit some of the things he had said to her might have been suggestive. He didn't think she deserved to have him arguing that point of top of everything.
"I would never try to keep you away from your child."
Shelby groaned and stared at him furiously. "Oh, you're just so considerate and kind to me, Jesse."
Jesse sighed and shook his head at her dripping sarcasm. He deserved it, but it still cut him like a knife.
"I just want you to be happy. This whole episode is a giant disagreement between the two of us about the ways in which you should go about it, one that is not over yet and the mistakes I made surely don't speak the best of my intentions… but I want you happy."
Shelby stared beyond him blankly, her body tensely still, her silence screaming the one thing she refused to say. It wasn't simply that she was unhappy; it was that he was causing the unhappiness. He had always been her whole support system, and now she had nothing, at the very time in which she was over-flooded with unexpected emotions. Again, Shelby did not have the coping mechanism to fully rebuild herself in any acceptable time frame, and he had to start facing the fact that he lacked the tools to fix her.
Jesse had never, ever thought of himself as a failure on any level, but every attempt to rescue her from her resolute seclusion was an added blow to their crumbling relationship, and he was starting to realize, it had been slowly eroding what he had envisioned to be an indestructible person. He was reaching for solutions, and coming up empty, and he felt like such a failure.
Why did he never manage to do good by the women in his life? He had watched his mother and Sophie implode while he was too self-involved with his ambitions to make it his problem, and when he tried to step it up and be a man because he thought Shelby was in a fast track to self-destruction? Not only he was wrong, as she had been covertly taking steps towards her dreams, but he had been the one holding her head under the water and deterring a much needed first breath of her new life. And that was going to haunt him forever.
He would have this picture etched in his brain until the day he died. Along with his mother's desperate cry – the only time he had ever seen her shed tears – as she broke down into his father's arms in the emergency room when Patrick overdosed, and the feeling of Sophie's ribs as he held her while his 13 year-old sister had a panic attack about going out to the beach with the rest of the family, whispering feverishly about how fat and ugly she was, or the worst of all, how all she wanted was to disappear from this world. Now he would have this. A memory of Shelby's mangled wrists, of her blood on his hands and his clothes, a direct result of the panic he had instilled in her by physically assaulting her and terrorizing her to the point that she would honestly think he could kill her.
She had said at the beginning of all this that a person that could do what he was doing to her without caring could only be a monster. He cared so, so much about her, but now he felt like she was right. And he had to step away; he had to take her home and let her be. Because he might have been destined to be a great artist, but he was also a tiny, worthless man. Hell, he didn't even feel like a man. A man made his loved ones feel safe and carried them through hardships. And he had failed in all accounts, in all the times that mattered.
Jesse felt like a fist was pushing down this throat, repeatedly and deservedly punching his guts as he maneuvered himself into a lying position next to Shelby and stared at the ceiling. Now he knew how Sophie felt, even if their anxiety stemmed from very different issues. He felt ugly and he just wanted to disappear in a puff of smoke, be erased, so that both Shelby and he could have an easy out.
"You'll be a great mom," he finally whispered to her, without daring to even look at her. At that moment, that was all he knew. He hadn't been able to deliver Rachel like he wanted to, but she would get a family now, as she deserved. She would be fantastic at it, because no matter how many of her relationships had derailed, Shelby was still very good at caring. And now she would be able to focus that on someone who belonged to her.
Shelby didn't say anything, and he only got a glimpse of her moist eyes and maybe-smile when he tried to get up to leave and she put a hand on his arm to stop him, stunning the crap out of him. She seemed somewhat moved, but he was not taking guesses on her feelings anymore. All she said as an explanation was, "Stay. I'm still mad but just… stay", which was good enough for him.
He could see why the woman wouldn't appreciate being left by herself on the dark room once again, and if his warm body was a palliative to her fears in like, any level, he was more than elated to oblige. So he just let his head hit the mattress and closed his eyes. His mind was so full and his stomach was so, so heavy. His whole body seemed denser all of a sudden, like he was made of lead. But then all he could hear was Shelby's soft, serene breathing; all he could feel was her warmth even though they were still separated by a pillow; all he could smell was her. And he felt himself unwind.
TGO
Shelby stared at her bandaged arms drowsily; there was pang of discomfiture as she took in what had occurred to her in the past few minutes. She had never been the fainting type of woman. Granted, you didn't have to be a psychology expert to imagine that if you wanted to make her hysterical, a bleeding wrist was the way to go. But she still hated feeling this weak.
It didn't help that she felt lethargic. Now that wasn't news. Shelby had always been pretty sensitive to any medication, even off-the-counter ones, which was why she often avoided them and would have continued to do so if she wasn't in so much pain. At least Jesse had had some ibuprofen; for whatever reason, acetylsalicylic acid always made her puke and gave her insufferable stomach aches, and paracetamol turned her into a useless sleepy mess. When she had been sick, she had barely ever been functional. It always took her ten to twelve hours to shake the strong drugs she was regularly given, so she had practically lived in a state of numbness.
She redirected her gaze to Jesse. She was so confused. She was still irate for what he had done to her, but then one second later, he was tending to her and holding her tightly while she had a panic attack, and she realized that she missed being taken care of. Nobody had done anything for her in decades, and she actually felt pathetic that the tiniest display of concern from Jesse could mean so much to her.
However, she had her own quota of apprehension on his behalf. The look Jesse had on his eyes before he felt asleep scared her, not because it was threatening and angry, but because there was a darkness and gloominess about it that she felt familiar with, but couldn't identify properly. It made her uneasy, and even in her current state, she couldn't close her eyes and nod off.
Shelby leaned over the fluffy pillow towards Jesse and inspected him closer under the soft moonlight. She had never seen him so disheveled or serene. It made the terrifying man that had taken her disappear from her mind; he was just the harmless, devoted young man she adored over all other things human. Shelby couldn't resist letting her fingertips trail over his handsome face— that face that had always been able to make her smile just by being on her sights. There was still a vestige of his musky cologne oozing from him and she let herself close her eyes and inhale softly. The worst thing he had taken from her in the end had been this: the closeness, the intimacy. Her ability to just stand next to Jesse and feel him; he didn't even have to touch her, for her to feel like she wasn't alone anymore.
She felt like a drug addict coming to terms for the first time with the fact that she wouldn't be able to shake her vice so easily. She tore herself away from Jesse quickly and shook her head, trying to stop this insane craving from overtaking her body. She felt sordid and torn and angry. But she also felt betrayed by him, by herself, by the world. Why did everything need to be so fucked up? He had abused her! Why couldn't she just hate him and be done with him? What was wrong with her?
Even aware as she was, she kept tossing and turning on the bed until she surrendered and let one of her hands fall next to his arms. They weren't quite touching, but just that was enough for her to start to relax and let the fatigue wash over her.
Shelby woke up suddenly and was startled by how dark it was. Or was it… She bit her lip nervously, as her senses became more acute and she was able to discern the piece of cloth pressed against her eyes. Her heart started beating like a jackhammer right away, while she held back the urge to cry. Why had Jesse done that to her again? What terrible offense had she committed now that warranted the blindfold? She had been unconscious!
"Jesse," she whimpered, defeated and not even sure he was around. She waited for a response; she waited forever. She was ready to start yelling again when she was met with a simple "I love you". It was dry statement, and it unnerved her. Jesse didn't even say 'good morning' to her without boiling with emotion. But at least she now knew he was a few feet from her and that he wasn't going to play the same game from the woods. She didn't, however, grasp what the hell he was doing.
She was making a gigantic effort not to lose it, until she heard the little metallic thud of a gun cocking. She was filled with so much dread, her whole body went ice cold. She tried to get up, but then felt the unyielding cuffs trapping her hands against the bed frame once again, and there was some type of sturdy material wrapped around her ankles, securing her on the other end of the bed.
Terror started to travel through her, overpowering, nauseating. She was wheezing. What on earth was going on? "Jesse," she tried again, her voice clearly cracking this time around, but she couldn't be bothered.
"I'm sorry," was his stony response and then she heard him pull the trigger. It was almost an insignificant sound, but to her, it was like an explosion. Except, nothing happened. He didn't shoot her. She was alive. She was alleviated.
And then she remembered. His initial plan, that look on his face; she knew that look. It was the look of a person that was giving up. And it dawned on her.
"No!" she screamed, trashing against her restraints wildly. It didn't matter if she was hurting herself, she had to stop him. "No, Jesse, don't!" she yelled harder, but was only met with the hollow sound of the trigger once more. Her despair only grew exponentially and she felt the harsh metal from the handcuffs grind into her skin as she tried at all costs to slip her hand through the impossibly small gap. She tried to kick, but the binds on her legs tightened to the point her feet became numb and her throat burned from her desperate screams.
"Jesse, please!"
She heard the trigger again; the gun went off.
"No! No! No!" Her cries stumbled out of her amidst her desperation. She could taste salt on her mouth from her tears and she doubled into herself like she had been kicked in the stomach, gasping for air, bawling so hard she lost all cognizance of the world around her. She didn't take in that she was free, that the room was slightly illuminated or that there was a strong pair of arms closed around her.
Jesse staggered. One minute he had been in a profound, dreamless slumber and then the other, Shelby was shouting his name. He was alert right away, prying the cushion she was sinking her nails into away from her clutch and pulling her quivering body into his arms. She stopped struggling, but she pulled her knees into his abdomen, put her head into her hands and kept emitting theses acute, feral screams that were just unbearable. If he thought she had had a meltdown earlier, he just could not characterize what was happening.
Shelby felt herself being shaken; one, two, three times. Nothing was enough to pierce through the dark cloud in her head. "Shelby," she heard his sweet voice against her ear, but that only made her weep harder, her whole body quaking with every sob. "Shelby, it's just a nightmare. Wake up."
Jesse kept repeating that like a mantra to Shelby, one of his arms holding her firmly against his chest and the other brushing her back, until she raised her eyes from her palms to his face. Something that looked like comprehension dawned on her, but to say that she recovered would have been a stretch.
Shelby placed her arms around Jesse's toned build, securing him against her with all her might while she kept wailing on his chest. She couldn't quite believe yet it was all just a dream; it had been too real, too frightening.
"Promise me you'll never leave," she begged vehemently through a couple of heart-wrenching sobs. Jesse was puzzled, naturally. All she had wanted up to that point was for him to be gone. Instead of giving her a vague response, he opted for just snuggling her closer and kissing her hair. She kept loudly crying; he was starting to think she would undo herself.
"Please, please, Jesse, I'm begging you. Promise me you won't hurt yourself."
Jesse sighed. He couldn't deny he had been having dark thoughts, but he had neither believed she would have been able to take notice, nor understood that it would have such a devastating effect on her. She was beyond frantic. His shirt was actually wet by now.
Shelby felt Jesse's fingers move deftly through her scalp; she didn't remember when he had found out this was one of her weak spots, but even as he worked his usual magic, she couldn't stop crying. Her heart didn't slow down. That freaking dream had terrified her into a puddle of horror. She couldn't move, not unless you counted her throwing one of her legs around Jesse's, which she didn't, because she hadn't perceived she had done that.
"Sshhh," he soothed her, his lips pressed on her temple, "I'd never do that to you or my family, Shelbs. I promise." She wasn't comforted however; that was not what she wanted to hear from him. She wanted to hear that he loved his live, that despite everything that was happening that he was set on his future and that he didn't have these thoughts. Did he have these thoughts? The prospective made her sink her nails into his back.
"Jesse, you can't think these things. You matter so, so much." Jesse understood that; even though she was pissed and she didn't want him in her life anymore, she would suffer if he harmed himself. She had already made that much clear. And he had made her suffer too much already. But what about the rest? He knew he was destined to be a star, but how much did that really count for anything, if it took him away from all of the people that had any value to him? Los Angeles just seemed like a hollow place now and he felt empty.
"I… I don't know, Shelbs. I just don't give a damn anymore."
"No!" She sobbed into his neck and clutched him harder. She sounded so, so scared. He really shouldn't have confided this to her.
Shelby made a monumental effort to unglue herself from him, and taking his face into her hands, forced his eyes to meet hers. She knew he wasn't just trying to screw with her; what she saw in them was too real.
"Look, I don't know how we are going to repair everything or if we'll ever be able to go back to normal. And I know it feels awful; I feel the same way you do about it. But we both have to keep going and make each other proud. You are gonna touch so many people with your gift; I just know it. Even after you kidnapped me, all that matters to me is that you still have your future and that you have the chance to change people's lives. Because you gave me so much love and so much to love, and just presented me with so much hope, that you got me through. I was just coming back from almost dying the first time I met you, and everything had changed for me. I couldn't have kids anymore, and even though I was still breathing, I felt like I had no future. I didn't feel like anything was worth fighting for. But then there was you, and your future was worth fighting for. So, I realized I wasn't done. You don't feel this right now, but you are not done, Jess."
Jesse felt the tears touch his jaw, but Shelby started drying them right away. He couldn't believe what she had just told him. He was hiccoughing as he held her head against his shoulder. He had been under the impression that he had failed her so colossally. It was almost too much to take in that she was practically claiming that he had saved her. She had made such a difference in his life, that if he had been able to affect her in any minimal way, he was already thrilled. It was already worth something. He really needed that validation.
He had no idea if they would be able to figure things out. Nevertheless, knowing that she would always carry a piece of him within her, that he had meant so much, gave him strength to face the unknown. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Okay? I promise on everything that's sacred to you that I will not do anything stupid. And I'll make you proud of me. I promise."
Shelby heard sincerity on Jesse's voice, but she didn't know how to embrace it. She hoped to God he wasn't lying just to calm her down, and she would spend every second of the next two months or so they still had left on the school year watching him like a hawk and pep-talking him to exhaustion. She had to be sure. That nightmare would forever have a terrifying grip on her soul.
For now, she tried to recuperate some measure of composure. She wasn't quite ready to pry herself away from Jesse, however. All of the longing that was pulsing somewhere within her core earlier had exploded into an incontrollable necessity.
It didn't help that Jesse wasn't exactly pushing her off him. On the contrary, he just reclined into the pillows she used earlier, never letting them disconnect, and placed her awkwardly on top of him, her head never leaving his shoulder. He was still absentmindedly stroking her hair, and when she started to try and snap the tense muscles on her shoulders, his other hand found the knot and started massaging it.
It was hard enough to contain her moan of pleasure when his skillful fingers unraveled the strained muscle, but it was taking more self-control than she currently possessed not to react when he drew her locks away and she felt his moist lips on the base of her skull. That was not an I'm-comforting-you-because-you're-so-distressed kiss and in the depths of her mind, she knew this was a really bad idea. She should be running and reigniting the lectures by now, but her body was overtaken with a shiver that even someone that used sex as an armor and weapon as often as she did couldn't possibly mistake.
Jesse felt Shelby run her nails through the side of his clothed torso nervously; he had been fully ready for her to jump off him and explain in how many spectrums of the universe they were totally in the wrong, not for that response. He was wary of her feelings at that point, more than ever before; she was extremely unguarded and distraught, and he didn't want to take advantage of her in any way. But that was the exact reason why it was so hard to not touch her; she seemed like she really needed some affection in that moment. Plus, she was spread flush against him, the faint remaining scent of her cherry-blossom bodywash making him lightheaded. He knew it was just another step on the wrong direction, but he wanted her so much.
Shelby felt Jesse hesitate and then start trailing languid kisses along the length of her neck. The hand on her back was caressing her up and down loosely, until Jesse slipped it under her blouse carefully, his fingertips rubbing softly every protuberant bone in her spine. Jesse stopped to suck the hollow valley between her neck and her collarbone before following down her shoulder, and his palm slid under her bra just as he tenderly bit her smooth skin. She groaned loudly this time, but that was not even a concern when she was hyper-aware that she had just grinded her hips into his, and being that Jesse was a teenage boy, she was counting on hell breaking loose or something.
Instead, regardless of the fact that she could feel through both of their pants that yes, she successfully gave him an erection, Jesse stopped and shifted them so she could be lying on the bed. Jesse stared down at her with a scowl of grave preoccupation and Shelby almost screamed at him to not talk, because that was certainly the point in which both a pause and a conversation were highly detrimental. That was going to be the breach for her to take note of how much she was about to fuck up.
"I don't want to hurt you," he tried to explain, and her eyes shone with misunderstanding. "I mean, I would never do that… to a woman. I don't want to take advantage of you."
Shelby was quiet for a moment, just waiting for the bewilderment to pass through her, and then she chuckled. It was so cute that he would turn cavalier all of a sudden.
"You're not forcing me into anything, Jess. I could have just told you to stop." And she should have, and now that they were patting the clear white elephant in the room, she felt apprehensive.
Jesse could see it in her eyes that just looking up at him was making her think of rules and morality, and a whole assortment of things he didn't really care about. But he really didn't want to cause any more damage than he had already, and he wasn't going start groping the ass of one of the people he loved the most in life, when they had ended up in a compromising position because some dream had left her shaken. The sex itself wasn't really that important to him. It wasn't that he didn't lust after Shelby; hell, he hadn't known what a sexual fantasy was before he crossed paths with the woman. However, all he wanted was to feel close to her again. To feel that electric connection pervade both of their bodies, their bond reawakening inside of them, stronger than ever. She had been his everything for almost half a decade now, and he couldn't leave with a tepid hug and a "see you in five years". It was all a matter of her feeling it too.
Jesse dropped his head into the pillow and pressed the side of his face against her cheek. She leaned in, savoring the small intimacy like a thirsty woman in the desert. She couldn't help but to treat every touch like it would the last one. After all, she had no idea how they were going to resolve things in the harsh light of real life. There, in the sultry darkness of some cabin in the middle of God-knows-where, removed from everything, hugs and kisses and sneaky caresses seemed less dangerous.
"I miss you," she heard his voice break with yearning and both of her hands squeezed his back reassuringly.
"I miss you too."
That was all it took for them both to relax. They were holding each other, and then Jesse turned his face and kissed her cheek, making her smile. She could live without acting out on the desire she felt build on her belly, but it was so nice to have him lavishing her with his devotion. It was so great to be able to openly physically express their love for each other. Sometimes she felt that what they had developed was too complex and weighty for words, or even the most beautiful songs to describe. However they had always had to be in check of how they demonstrated their fondness. Yet now, Jesse could shamelessly kiss her jaw, her eyes, her nose, while she lied there droopily smiling and it was all fine.
Jesse brushed his lips faintly against hers, and despite the temptation and the little throaty sound she made at that, he followed his path down towards her other shoulder. He glided his hand under her shirt once again, this time letting his fingers dexterously caress her bare abdomen. He heard Shelby's brusque intake of breath and felt her arch her back slightly, and was simultaneously highly pleased and amused that her stomach was her sensitive pleasure spot.
Shelby felt Jesse lift her blouse and then his lips closed on a patch of skin just under her navel and he sucked it passionately making her all woozy. She groaned as he nibbled higher and higher, every touch loving, but she couldn't help the smoldering heat between her legs.
Jesse raised his eyes occasionally to see Shelby's head trashing from one side to the other, her knuckles turning white from her grip on the pillow. It made her all the more loveable. The husky little noises she couldn't contain any longer weren't exactly making her less desirable either, and every contact between his mouth and her creamy skin just made him harder. Jesse pulled the shirt all the way up and Shelby helped him get it off her. He knew the risks of stopping for even one second, but he had to. He needed to admire her. It was impossible for him to not be in awe of her beauty, always, and for a couple of seconds all he could do was glance at her, marveled.
"I love you." He knew that she was aware, but he needed to remind her. He needed her to never forget. Her response was to pull him in and initiate the sweetest kiss he had ever received in his life. He had wanted this for so long, and the more he had grown to love her, the worst it became to not be able to. There was so much emotion conveyed in just that brief kiss. Okay, maybe not so brief. Not after they had to take a breath for the sixth time and still reached for each other with renewed ardor.
Shelby hoped the room was dark enough that Jesse wouldn't realize her eyes became moist when he abandoned her still sore and now very dry lips and took his time caressing the top of her breasts with the tip of his fingers, cherishing her. Before this whole ordeal happened, Jesse had been one of the very few people that had made her feel so incredibly precious. Knowing she was so treasured by him, even after he had hurt her so much, made her want to cry.
Jesse removed her dress pants in a flash, and nipped her left ankle. He trailed a path up her leg, nibbling and licking her flesh until she felt her lower body was in flames. Shelby made herself reign all of her clashing emotions and focus on this. She would regret it if she didn't relish every moment of the adoring foreplay she was being treated to; and well, she wanted to be able to remember it all. They had loved each other for almost four years and they would only get to be lovers once, and she wanted to commit it all to memory. She wanted this, the soft warm strokes of his tongue on the inside of her thighs to be the things that lingered, not what had occurred on the previous hours, or days. Jesse pulled her legs apart gently, and she felt his nose run up her clothed mound slowly and then his sultry lips kiss her affectionately through the fabric of her underwear.
Jesse straightened his body and sat down on her legs, leaving her panting from the pent up arousal, and took his shirt off. She felt a bit shameful that not only she was ogling her student, but getting a kick out of the fact that she made him become so, so fit that now she could drool all over his abs, and that was so much conflicting information that she had to shut her eyes and internally chastise herself. Jesse nuzzled her cheek and she let her eyelids flutter up and her fingertips brush the muscles of his arm. He had this sympathetic, doting look on his face that reminded her why, despite everything, her adoration for him so powerful.
Jesse pulled her into him, massaging her skull gently and kissed her forehead. She smiled shortly, and then rested her face against his bare upper body, while his hand played with her long chestnut hair. She felt so peaceful. She felt at home. She kissed his chest tenderly. First, it was a thanks-for-being-my-haven kiss. Then, a thank-for-loving-me; after that, it was 'I love you too'. And every single feeling she had had to bottle up for years, covering his torso. Until there was only "please, be with me" left. Her hands dropped and she found the zipper on his jeans. Shelby let her palm rest against his hard member, and feeling him was so surreal, she had to take a second to let this wash over her.
It started tentatively, with her fingers just exploring his length; but soon enough she was handling him with practiced ease, and he felt himself wobble and put too much weight on her body, because the sensation made him lose his balance. She chuckled merrily and he pouted at her reaction, before deciding that was surely unsexy as hell and that he needed to fight fire with fire. Jesse rapidly unhooked her bra and got rid of it. Shelby had this little euphoric glint in her eyes when he cupped her breasts reverently, but she completely let go when he started kneading them.
Shelby allowed Jesse to lower into her back, her chest ready to explode as he stared at her with this blistering passion. Jesse placed his hands over the hem of her panties and took a deep concentrated breath, as if he needed to prepare for what he was about to do and it was kind of endearing. He peeled the fabric from her at a snail's pace, making it a whole event because he couldn't stop savoring this insignificant pleasure to ludicrous extents.
By the time he finished the process she was already agonizing, but then touching every inch of skin on each other's body had seemed so primordial too. They canoodled on the bed for what seemed like hours, introducing themselves to each other's anatomy in a slow dance of veneration. As much as the anticipation blazed through their flesh and core, they both couldn't shed this sense of reverence for the moment. And they couldn't break their gaze, even when all she wanted to do was shut her eyes and surrender.
Jesse was bathing the valley between her breasts with attention and it was heavenly, but she needed him inside of her so desperately that her "Jesse, please" wasn't more than a hum. She rubbed the soles of her feet harshly against the covers, thinking she was going to pass out again if she didn't get some release, and since Jesse seemed effectively dazed by his own explorations of her curves, she took the task upon herself. Shelby let her sweaty palms travel down his abdomen toward his hip and brought him closer.