The Guilty Ones

by Cissy Black Malfoy

Jesse commits an error of judgment that could be fatal to Shelby, or at least derail both of their lives completely. Rated M for violence, sexual content and mature themes.

5. Other Side of the World

A/N: Finally, here is the last chapter of this weird, dark little tale. I just want to thank anybody who stayed with it, even though my updating went beyond erratic for a while there. I also want to thank my beta, who puts up with my totally not funny jokes and my constant nagging, including that she edited this chapter faster because it was my bday. Thanks, Lynds. Best present ever.

I also realize I've been super neglectful with my disclaimers, so, just to be clear, I don't own Glee or these characters, and I write these stories for fun. I promise that when I get deluded and decide to write for profit, I'll do so with my own characters and universe, because stealing is never cool.

And finally, for the ones that still have any interest, here is the end of the journey. I really hope it was worthy spending some time with Shelby and Jesse, no matter how dubious the premise was.

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Chapter 5 – Other Side of the World

"Jesse", Shelby whimpered as Jesse raised the dark cloth over her eyes, her chest constricting. "Please, don't."

Jesse and she had spent the last hour or so unhurriedly making love, electricity blasting from the friction between their two bodies, sinking into every single one of their pores and cursing through their bones. Shelby couldn't remember a time someone had been so focused on her that it seemed that they were trying to reach into her soul and caress it. It was cheesy, but she had never felt this exposed and this adored, and regardless of the fact that she had known Jesse forever and he was always a very open human being, there was something so raw and mystifying about him too when they were engaged in this level of intimacy, that it was daunting. She had felt as if her body was going to melt under the pressure of her streaming feelings.

She had laid worn out on the rumpled sheets, the sweat she had worked up coming in contact with the sudden cold air and giving her chills, and her muscles so wobbly from the exertion that she had remained useless while Jesse had persisted on nibbling her lip until she hissed in pain. The little cut from earlier must have opened, because she could taste a bit of blood and Jesse had looked so upset that he had scrambled to the other side of the bed.

They had lied there quietly, uptight, both of their brains gripping for a course of action, a talk point to diffuse the tension and being faced with a total blank. Shelby even allowed her hand to seek out Jesse's shyly, but lost the nerve midway through it. Both of their instincts in these circumstances had always been to let their minds remain empty for as long as humanly possible, being that they had a considerable history of resorting to meaningless sex as a stress valve and an escape, but in present company, it was just awkward.

The oppressive silence had made Shelby edgy and she was downright freezing; she had scanned her side of the bed for her blouse, but since it was nowhere to be found and Jesse's t-shirt was clearly dangling on the end of the mattress, she had crawled towards it, swiftly covered herself and hugged her knees. The night was darker now, the moon was hidden and as she sat closer to the window she noticed it had started to rain thickly while Jesse and she were distracted.

"This is usually when I fling my leather jacket over my shoulder and get the hell out," Jesse had whispered flatly. Shelby had cracked up laughing, because they were so impossibly alike, that even her wall of self-consciousness couldn't keep her enjoyment in. Jesse had looked at her with curiosity and asked "What?" with an indignant flare.

"Well, I usually wait until they fall asleep before slipping on my underwear and making a dash for the door." Shelby had turned to face Jesse, who was sitting against the headboard now, and they had smiled at each other, amused, accomplices; leave it to them to be so jaded in the booty-call sector that even after such a monumental event they could continue to demonstrate some horrible post-intercourse manners.

Thankfully, something had snapped in Jesse that he had decided to drag himself to her for a cuddle. He slid his legs around her and embraced her, and even though affection after a fuck was something she avoided like the plague, she was comfortable. Shelby nuzzled into Jesse, curling her legs, and rested her head against his shoulders. She brushed his biceps in a hypnotic rhythm, soothing herself back to an almost sluggish state, letting herself just be and enjoying this incredible tranquility while her brain was still so filled with endorphins that she had yet to become violently desolate. Jesse had started to rock her softly and it was inevitable how droopy her eyes became, but she quickly startled herself and jumped away.

Jesse kept trying to snuggle her, but she was so stiff all of a sudden and she kept squirming inside his grasp. He had watched, uneasy, as she buried her face in her hands; one minute before she had been on the verge of nodding off and then she had become overburdened with stress. Jesse had sat there, befuddled for a moment, even as he stroked her back hoping to offer some comfort.

"Shelby, what's in your head?" Shelby had shaken her head stubbornly, but otherwise, had stayed on her own world. "Did you regret this already? Is that the problem? Shit, I really am a bad person."

Shelby hiccupped loudly and looked at him in despair. "Please don't say that. Don't think that. You're not a bad person. We are not bad people. We are just… a bit troubled." Shelby pulled both of her hands through her hair nervously; Jesse palmed both her cheeks and brought her close to his face.

"I never said anything about you. You're jumping the gun on the guilt. I mean, for fuck's sake, I'm still naked."

Shelby once again shook her head weakly and sighed; she was so tired she felt she lacked energy to muster an explanation. She was sure the mistake she made would weigh on her at some point, but at that moment, she had just reacted against the prospect of being unconscious and oblivious of what Jesse was up to. It was too much, too soon.

"I'm just… I think I'm still a bit shaken from my nightmare. Please, don't worry. And don't blame yourself. You're jumping the gun too." Shelby was trying really hard to hold it all in – the primal fear that was crippling her, the sobs bobbing to the surface, the anguished scream rasping her throat – and it was all so much she was about to implode.

Jesse saw her close her eyes, defeated, crumbling under too much pressure, felt her forehead rest against his chin and heard her seemingly fighting to not hyperventilate. It slashed at him, being faced with the unmistakable truth: Shelby would indeed get out of that situation deeply traumatized, and he needed to start doing things to help her heal. He needed to give her some new thoughts, because she was about to collapse under so many negative ones.

"Shelby, listen to me. I don't want to kill myself. However, since I can see this tugging at your heart, I am going to promise you that every time I feel myself doubting my own worth, I'll think of this moment. I'll remember just how special I was to you, that you would give yourself this way, open yourself this way. But I need to ask you for the most difficult thing right now; I need to ask you to trust me. Trust me to follow through on my promise. Because I can't have you consuming yourself with this worry. I can't have you draining yourself to the ground while fearing for my life. I am going to become a star. And then I'm going to make sure I help some people too. And I'll do all of that, and never again think of giving up, because I love you and I'll make you proud of me. Wherever we are in ten years, I'll make sure you will feel you were right about caring for me, even after all the harm I caused you."

Shelby pressed her nose against his neck, her chest rising in labored motions against his. Keeping her concern at bay would not be easy. But Jesse was finally letting go and he was even talking about his future again, and she couldn't be the one keeping them stuck on the present – that had been how all of that appalling situation had began – because of one frightening nightmare and five seconds of self-doubt the kid had indulged in. She had to be rational and power through her reservations, even if her heart was still strangled. She knew her past, the way she lost people that she loved, was making her biased to the point of it being pathetic. She couldn't give so much credit to a dream, especially it being a creation of a mind as jarred as hers. But it was so hard to diffuse all of her sickly concern.

"Also, I promise that from now on, anytime I start having bad thoughts, I'll make myself think of how good you taste instead."

Shelby contained a smile that twitched on her lips, because she didn't want him to think of himself as highly amusing; not in regards to that subject. She squeezed his side threateningly and was about to start a rant but gave up when he added, "And I love myself so, so much." She could tell he badly needed to ease her down from the nerve-wracking condition she had too hastily moved into and she didn't want him to worry either. She dwelled on his speech for a while, until admitting to herself that as much as she was wary of promises, she had to believe his. Otherwise, she would never have a night of sleep again. He was right, she was probably going to need a couple of months and maybe some hardcore therapy to get truly over this, but she couldn't obsess about it until it destroyed her. She knew Jesse had mellowed considerably on the last few hours and that convincing him to take her home was a more palpable reality now; she had a baby and new life to sweat over and she was going to put herself together for both of their sakes.

"I trust you."

"Good," was his curt reply, and in her mind she could picture the trademark Jesse smirk that accompanied that intonation, "because I'll need you to trust me right now."

Shelby had wanted to grill him on that cryptic message, but before she dared, he had leaped from the bed in search of something; he had returned with the piece of dark cloth in his hand and Shelby had panicked at seeing it, but before she could put some distance between Jesse and herself, he had already wrapped the blindfold firmly around her head.

Shelby was shaking as Jesse's fingers trailed down her arms. "Relax." He whispered on her ear, but she just shook her head. He couldn't understand that it was not just what had occurred in the woods that had affected her. Even if she had committed herself to believing him, it was much too soon for him to want her to put that in practice. She didn't have the calm in her to be blinded just yet.

"Please, stop," she begged, feeling the urge to cry on the back of her throat. Jesse obeyed and stopped touching her, but that only made her panic all the more. "Please, take it off. I don't want to play this game, I need to see you."

Jesse immediately understood. She still didn't trust him not be off her sight making suicidal plans. Whatever she had seen on her nightmare, had really fucked with her head. He grabbed one of her trembling hands gently, and placed it on his bare chest, over his heart. Jesse saw her exhale sharply and then wind down a little.

He let his fingers brush her jaw and brought her face up, so he could capture her lips with his. Shelby opened her mouth to allow him to massage her tongue with his, while her other hand trailed the side of his naked body tentatively. If he was close and busy, she was less prone to freak out.

She felt him pull away, but not enough that the contact between them was broken, and she drew solace from his heartbeat in order to not lose her shit while he sat next to her. Then he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her and placed her on his lap. Jesse removed his shirt and then kissed one of her breasts sweetly, caressing the back of her thighs slowly.

"Again, relax," he murmured in the intervals of his relentless nibbling on her neck, "I want you to feel good. If you're not enjoying yourself, we will stop. If the fear is bigger than the pleasure, I need you to tell me. But I also need you to try, at least for a minute, to let yourself have fun."

"Mmm, okay," she stuttered while his mouth moved to one of her nipples, his tongue and teeth doing some crazy stuff to her, and he rubbed the back of her knees vigorously, discovering a pleasure point she didn't even know she had and making her moan louder. "Fun" was not exactly her word of choice to describe it, but it was definitively beginning to override the horror she had felt initially.

He brushed his knuckles through her abdomen, too fast for her to enjoy the feather-like sensation properly, but slow enough to make her clench her legs in frustration. Until his long fingers reached down and trailed her slit. The other hand quickly made way to support her when her head and body tilted backwards and she swayed, losing her balance because of the lack of vision.

Shelby could feel the digits teasing her lips tactfully, the stimulation that she needed standing elusively away; close, but not quite there. Shelby leaned forward gradually until the tip of her nose hit what she was almost sure was Jesse's eyebrow. He was laughing while she guided herself around his face, until she met his earlobe. She swiftly swooped her tongue through the cartilage, then bit on it, and she racked her teeth against the sensitive side of his neck down and back up; she grabbed his ear into her mouth and started sucking this time, until Jesse's amused laughter turned into a husky "Dear God, please stop."

"I'm better at this game than you." She punctuated with a satisfied smile. She knew he had already realized it, that was the whole point of the demonstration, but she couldn't pass on the opportunity to brag.

Jesse thought he was going to pass out from the arousal. Every second that he spent being in awe of the fact that Shelby was currently doing sexy things with his body, was an inch closer to an orgasm. He let two fingers slip inside of her and she made this little whimpering sound, and it was paradise. He stroked her clit in circular motions with his thumb, and the patterns she was making on his skin became all messy as her mouth became frenzied.

Then she felt him stop altogether, when she was so, so close and she almost started to cry; the sound she actually did make was a cross between a gasp and grumble.

"Are you having fun yet?" he asked teasingly and she just hissed, "Jess, I'll hurt you," because far from her to take violence lightly at that point of her life, but if he didn't carry on she would die. And well, the "Ouch" coming from him when she bit his shoulder meant she had succeeded, without really doing something that would churn her stomach.

Jesse pulled her hair, not too roughly, and kissed her, definitively roughly. It hurt a little, but she didn't mind it terribly. His other hand pulled her legs further apart so she was pressed closer to his groin, and his nails rasped again the back of her knee once more making her whine into his mouth. He was obnoxiously proud of himself, but he decided to end her affliction; his arm closed around her waist, holding her still and he penetrated her.

TGO

Shelby was warm. As she slowly regained consciousness, that was the first thing to stand out, quite possibly because she had had a long dry spell of overnight cuddling. But this was clearly that type of warmth; the unique temperate presence of another body pressed into hers. Jesse's arm involved her waist, his palm still pressed protectively over her stomach; at some point of their overly long night, they had completed the Intro to Physical Intimacy for Badly Emotionally Damaged People 101 syllabus by seeking yet another level of comfort in each other's body, and if she recalled it correctly, she had ended up unwinding to Jesse's unrelenting caresses on her abdomen.

Shelby rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes, but other than that, relished her unexpected and certainly improper-in-too-many-degrees-to-ponder position inside the loving embrace of her 18-year-old student. She knew she had to separate herself from him and start what would sure be a painful process of self-recrimination and flagellation already, but it was tempting to dive further under the covers and let the real world become a blur of demanding pressures and over-glaring failures she could avoid.

However, the slightest change of position awakened her whole body, sending pins-and-needles sensations to her arms and back, and her wrists in particular started throbbing in an excruciating manner. Shelby crawled away from Jesse carefully – though if he hadn't stirred to the barely muffled complaining noises she had been emitting, she was sure he was in very deep sleep, and instinctively drew closer to the nearest source of light: the window. That was when it hit her like a truck. Despite the storm that still raged the skies and the clouds that covered their heads like a blanket, it was bright outside. They had slept past dawn, and their predicament had become so convoluted that they had overlooked a very important matter: they needed to go back home.

"Shit!" Shelby jumped back in bed and shook Jesse by his shoulders. Jesse blinked and then groggily stared at her, his hair all disheveled and seeming so cute that her heart rate almost dropped from its race to cardiac attack.

"What?" he mumbled, annoyed, while drying drool from the corner of his mouth.

"We overslept."

Jesse looked at the window, nodded and closed his eyes again.

"Jesse!"

"We don't have rehearsal today," he muttered in a barely understandable scrambled voice, and tried to reach out to her and bring her back to his arms. She slapped his hand away, but pulled his arm in a futile attempt to make him get up.

"No, we don't. But Jonathan still will go to Carmel to oversee the Horse Riding training, and do budget and shit…"

Now Jesse was awake. He sat in bed, his eyes widening in a very cartoonish way while the same worry that poured out of her in buckets seized him. "Your things. Your car."

Shelby nodded, standing up awkwardly in the soft mattress before jumping out, and realizing she was way too old for that when all of her bones complained at her landing.

"We have to go," she insisted, frantic, while trying to locate and gather all of her clothing. Jesse put on his boxers and took his watch from the bedside table; he looked at it for a while, and Shelby was about ready to shout at him to get moving when he materialized next to her, grabbing her upper arms and gently guiding her to sit on the bed.

"Shelbs, it's 7:30 AM. Even if we leave now and rush, which we can't do with this weather, we wouldn't make it to Carmel before noon. And we would be risking our lives." He had explained carefully, leveling their eyes and brushing her hair, but she still went rigid at that revelation, as he had expected she would. He could understand why this information would intensify her feelings of apprehension and helplessness, but considering he was the one in risk of being found out and arrested, he needed to keep her from dramatically overacting.

"What? Where are we?"

"Not that far," he explained, brushing her arms, hoping she wouldn't realize that was a gross lie. They were technically out of state. "But the road is made of dirt, and is kind of a rough path. Listen, we are going to take a shower; you go first while I fix us some breakfast. We are going to eat, and while we are at it, we'll devise a plan. We need a plan. Okay?"

"Okay," Shelby breathed, seeming more desperate than appeased, and Jesse had to push her up and drag her down the hallway. He stopped at the linen closet and grabbed her two clean towels. Shelby was standing there hugging her blouse and pants against her chest and looking well off in stupor of fear. She took the towels from him impassively, and when he pointed to the bathroom in the end of the corridor, all she did was raise her gaze at him. Her eyes were moist, and she had this expression of overwhelming anxiety that informed him she was on the path to her umpteenth breakdown of the last 24 hours. He cupped her cheeks into his hands and made her look at him.

"It's gonna be okay, Shelby," he whispered in which he hoped to be a very reassuring way, before passionately kissing both sides of her face.

Shelby numbly made her way into the bathroom and halted in the doorway to finally examine it. It was kind of rustic, like the rest of the house, but it seemed practical enough. She could only pray, to all things that were sacred and some that were not, that they had hot water.

She closed the door behind her, got rid of Jesse's shirt and climbed gingerly into the shower, hoping for the best and bracing herself for the worst. As soon as she turned the faucet, a jet of cold water hit her, making her jump back and release every dirty word she could remember, but then, after she gave it two minutes, the temperature grew to be bearable.

While she waited for the actually burning heat she never favored, but was going to indulge in with hopes of loosening up at least a bit of the strain on her body, she went to the sink and at last took a good look at herself. If she was honest, it was actually worse than she expected. There was small patch of purple skin over her distinct cheek bone and her already full lips were slightly swollen. She looked ten years older and five shades paler all of a sudden. And she knew she had yet to face the worst.

Cautiously, she undid the bandage on her left wrist; the cuts didn't look so bad. She needed to clean them again, and she wasn't sure if the gooey thing Jesse had plastered on it helped it or made it worse, but other than a glaring bruise, it wasn't that scary. She moved to her other arm and once she was done, that was the moment she thought she would throw up. It was a jumble of purple, red and yellow – and she was positive that yellow meant horrible things, there was dry blood caked and mixed with that thick ointment and even touching it carefully was incredibly painful.

Shelby forced herself to climb into the shower and took deep breaths before letting the hot water hit her body; as expected, the pain was so epic, it almost knocked her out of her feet. She held onto the wall, and walked a little further into the stream, enjoying the scorching liquid massaging her scalp and melting into her grimy hair. It was uncomfortable to a degree, but she needed that. Once she got used to the divergent sensations though, she realized that her physical wounds had been distracting her from her dread.

She knew Jesse was full of bullshit. Nothing was going to be okay and she was terrified. If Jonathan entered her office and saw her things still there, her computers still on, the broken jar still sprawled on the floor, the signs of struggle and who knows, maybe even blood, he would freak out and think something bad happened to her. Well, something bad had happened to her, but even after all of their conflicts, she would have a hard time dissociating her Jesse from kidnapper, assaulter Jesse. There was no way she could report him, help indict him.

Even in the unlikelihood that they buried this incident, they would not be fine. Shelby had no idea how they would move on from this situation, and how she would be able to act professionally with Jesse, as if everything was normal, when they went back to their usual lives on Monday. The thought of this gigantic lie becoming her life for the next two months intensified her nausea, and her chest became so heavy both of her arms were weirdly insensitive.

Plus, the mere idea that somebody would be able to figure out in any way how she had slept with Jesse, threatened to tumble her to her feet. Her whole life would be over. She would lose Beth, Rachel would probably be too disgusted when she found out too, her students would be baffled and likely lose all their respect for her and she would never work again. The fear that permeated her made the tears even the physical pain didn't cause stumble out of her eyes easily. She covered her face with her palms in shame and allowed herself to bawl, her frail body quaking convulsively. She felt so overwhelmed; she was so scared, she couldn't even think. She just wanted to get out of this chaos and have all of this magically erased. She just wanted to go home.

TGO

Shelby had stayed in the shower sobbing until the water turned cold. Regardless of the shock from the change, she had compelled herself to actually clean her body and wash her hair with the fruity shampoo either Jesse's mother or sister had left behind. By the time she stepped out and wrapped herself with the towels, she felt her throat and lungs ache and understood what a big mistake that had been, but carried on. She examined her clothes and noted they were filthy, probably from all of that unintended rolling on the dirt she had done the night before, so she stalked out of the bathroom in only her underwear and a towel to ask Jesse if there was something she could borrow. Another decision to deeply regret as soon as the cold air assaulted her.

She found Jesse in the living room, serving a very frugal version of breakfast on the coffee table. "It was all we had left here. Sorry." He explained it awkwardly, when he found her staring. She just shrugged and mumbled a half-hearted "It's fine, I don't eat much in the morning." Per her calculations she hadn't eaten anything in almost sixteen hours, and yet, incredibly, she had no appetite. The plate with toast, jelly and butter seemed like way more than she could stomach, even if in her brittle state she could use the nourishment.

"Do you have some clean clothes I could wear? Mine are disgusting."

Jesse hit himself on the head, as if expressing how stupid he was and ran out to some room. He returned soon with some dark yoga pants and a thick gray sweater and she was actually a bit torn about accepting. Those clothes so clearly belonged to Heather, and she was just hoping for some of Jesse's own sweats. How would she give this back later? But it was frosty in the cabin and she felt weak enough without opting to stand there half naked and half way through turning into a popsicle, so she didn't dwell much on it before expressing some mild gratitude and going to the bedroom to put them on. She also took the opportunity to redress her cuts clumsily, if only not to have to look at them anymore.

When she went back outside, Jesse was gone. She guessed he was probably trying to take a shower and felt awful, because not only she had used all the hot water, it had completely escaped her to warn him of that fact.

Shelby ate a dry toast just to appease her stomach, filled a mug with coffee and walked outside. She wasn't a big fan of storms, but there was something about the smell of the wet soil and the trees that it was nice. She wasn't an outdoorsy person, she didn't do nature at all, but she could appreciate the freshness and ostensible vastness of the environment she had been dragged into; it made her feel less imprisoned and suffocated.

She stared ad nauseam into her cup. The smell of coffee could always calm her down, but she couldn't avoid bitterly musing that her life was as murky as the liquid at that moment. And she was having coffee more to have something to occupy her hands and her mind with than to actually wake up. At least, the scorching beverage alleviated the strain in her throat a bit. She felt so faint and sickly, she was considering going back inside to eat some more when Jesse showed up at the porch, a mug on one hand and a blanket on the other. He chuckled and shook his head at her.

"You know, mad woman, when I said we should have breakfast, I kind of meant inside."

Shelby wanted to laugh and lighten up, she desperately need to feel her body and mind relax for even one tiny second, but she seemed stuck in this perpetual turbulence. Dread had taken over every single cell, like a black veil, choking her slowly into animated corpse condition. Everything that mattered to her was at stake; Jesse's well-being and future headlining that list in a twisted irony of epic proportions. Jesse settled next to her, pulling the blanket over both of their shoulders and taking a sip of his coffee.

She wondered for a moment if he had noticed her become stiff, but since Jesse put his coffee down next to him and started brushing her back under the sweater – because of course now he imagined all boundaries were off – she guessed he did. She was torn between wanting to punch him and tell him how much she hated him for breaking her in a million pieces, running out into the rain and screaming her lungs out or begging him to hold her and whisper some more empty promises that they were not doomed.

Evidently, Jesse decided to embrace her without needing any coaxing, and all of her resistance was frozen, bobbling on the surface, vibrating like a drum, but for some reason contained. And then Jesse started asserting a new round of palliatives and it all started to spill in waves, her anger, her fear, her sadness. She tried to clench her jaw because she was so tired of crying, so damn over feeling so frail, but her body was wobbling in a way that she believed she was about to explode from inside out.

"What are we gonna do, Jesse? I'm not on your side on this. I don't wanna shrug it off and say it's nothing, and it's all forgotten, because it isn't. You did a few things yesterday you should be punished for, because they can't be taken lightly. The slap was… provoked, and I'm willing to see the door incident as an accident, but you held me at gunpoint, and you abducted me, and that thing in the forest… But I can't report you to the police. How the hell am I expected to depose against you? To throw you in jail? I can't."

Jesse adjusted the blanket around her and pulled her in a way she was basically curling on his lap, but she didn't allow herself to indulge to the comfort of his body. Her life was short of over and she couldn't keep adding dirt to her own grave. But Jesse had a grip on both of her arms and she was trapped.

"Shelby, c'mon, please be calm. Who would have known that someday I would be the one between the two of us to be able to maintain a clear head, huh? I've already solved the car issue, Shelby, don't worry."

Shelby stopped wriggling and searched his eyes, hoping she wouldn't find neither mischief or dumbness there. She had heavy doubts on Jesse's problem-solving abilities, but she also needed badly for him to really come through to her just this once.

"How?"

"My mother was closer to Carmel than we are, so I asked her to go get it."

"What?" Shelby muttered, her voice barely there, her air barely there.

"And yeah, I told her about the abduction. I didn't give her many details, but she is sure to interrogate me when she gets here."

Jesse gave her an eye roll that confirmed to her he didn't take what he had done seriously at all.

"Why would you do that? Why would you involve someone else?"

Typical Jesse behavior. He hadn't ask her if she was willing to go to all lengths to cover up his crime, and his solution had been to just rope somebody else into committing obstruction of justice on his behalf. And Heather being brought into it made her feel even more powerless. She was about to become seriously outnumbered by two people that had one common goal, protecting Jesse, and she had no idea where her well-being would be factored in.

Again, she in no way believed this would all come naturally to Heather. Jesse was ripping them both in half. Shelby was sacrificing her convictions as a human being to forward the one purpose she held higher than anything else as a teacher: making sure kids like her had better chances of making their dreams come true than she had experienced. Heather, on the other hand, would defend her son with all her love, but that required neglecting her life-long honorable work as law-enforcement agent. And Jesse might be oblivious, but Shelby understood how that would rob the woman from a few peaceful nights of sleep, at least. Betraying such a vital part of your soul was not simple and Shelby really wished Jesse hadn't been so careless to put yet another loved one in that dire position.

"Jesse…" Shelby sighed wearily, not even knowing how to begin to expose her qualms, but Jesse started brushing it off and kissing her forehead, and then he separated them and looked at her seriously. "You are burning up!"

"I am? I wasn't feeling so well, but I didn't know."

Shelby groped her own forehead, which sure enough, was on fire. She wasn't positive if it had been all of the ill-advised temperature shocks her body had endured or some sort of problem with her wrists, but at least it explained why she felt so unwell.

"C'mon." Jesse was on his feet out of the blue, and one second later he had managed to pick her up, bridal style and the time you took her to scoff and roll her eyes and protest was enough for him to get her back inside and into the room.

Jesse insisted on cleaning her wrists once again, which hurt more than words could possibly describe; maybe her uncontainable yelps colored the picture for him a little. He didn't wrap them or put anymore gel on it, and just explained that they would get her arms taken care of, without going into much details about the where and how. She didn't think they were in a position to walk into a hospital; the police would probably be called within the minute of an experienced doctor taking a look at her.

However, Jesse had convinced her (quite easily, given the circumstances) to take two more painkillers, and she had been emerged in a thick fog, until her body surrendered and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

TGO

Shelby felt a gentle pressure against her forehead and tried to remain alert. Jesse had been checking on her and doing cold compresses sporadically, and every time she woke up he would force her to drink some water or tea and then go back to sleep. It was acceptable, because she had been feeling like a truck had run her over all day, and the more lucid she was, the more she agonized about the danger they had put themselves in because of that one night, by means that were viewed in civilized societies as both despicable and criminal. However, she needed to be knowledgeable about her own health state. She at least wanted to be informed of how high her fever was, because she could be in some serious risk and she couldn't trust an 18-year-old to be the judge of that.

"Jesse?" Her head was so hazy, that even her tongue felt foreign all of a sudden, so her limbs seemed almost extraterrestrial. She hated feeling this helpless and when even her, somebody so strongly against going to hospitals was starting to long for one, she supposed things had skidded past the deep end.

Her eyes seemed to have glue in them, but she forced them open anyways and took a minute to blink and try and dissipate the blurriness. But even before clarity installed itself in her sight, the overly considerate way in which her hair was brushed away from her forehead and the grave yet feminine voice that inquired her if she was okay, made her realize in whose company she was and her heart beat a little faster.

Heather St. James was staring down at her with a mixture of sorrow and pity that caused Shelby to recoil violently from her motherly touch and try to rise, but Heather stopped her and Shelby had to acquiesce to the reality that, in that moment at least, the older woman was incredibly stronger than her. Heather's honey hair was shorter than she remembered and pulled messily into a ponytail; hell, Heather's whole persona was a far cry from the usual put-together, very no-nonsense image Jesse's mom had always made sure to project. She looked remarkably worn-out and distraught as well.

"How bad is it?" Shelby mumbled, hoping that her voice was understandable to a degree. It was definitively not crystal clear, and the effect that had on Heather was also pretty visible before she took note of Shelby's attention and slip on a mask of cold, courteous pragmatism.

"It's bad." She didn't lie, but Shelby hadn't really expected her to do so. "But I brought a doctor with me, and he'll take care of you."

Shelby was confused and a tad more hesitant. She desperately needed medical attention, but she couldn't conceive of additional people getting implicated in their dilemma. Unless, there was no dilemma at all. She had no uncertainties that as perplexed as Heather certainly felt about this whole state of affairs, she would rather secure the secrecy of this mishap before letting her only child that hasn't already paid some time in a psychiatric institution go to jail. She didn't know how liberal Jesse had been with information, so she wasn't positive if Heather was completely aware that Shelby herself had grudgingly opted to remain on Team Jesse. And she didn't want any unknown doctor shooting her with stuff before that was evident.

"Did you come here to make sure I'll stay quiet?"

Heather gave her a brief recriminating glare that Shelby recognized all too well, from the countless times she had shut up a student who was babbling some obvious garbage, before exhaling loudly and letting a tiny amount of dejection reach her eyes.

"I would never be that cruel."

Shelby swallowed thickly, not really wanting to accuse a woman that she knew to be nothing short of a grand example of integrity and empathy, a person that had dedicated her career to protect those that couldn't do it for themselves and put criminals away; but a mother was a mother. That was the strongest bond in the whole world, the protective instinct that would squash all others. So Shelby was still not comfortable in her position; objectively, she could destroy both Jesse and Heather's legacy by coming clean any day, they were three against her impaired self, and if they desired for her to never leave that cabin alive, she wouldn't.

Shelby struggled a bit but sat down and took one of Heather's hands into her own. They didn't know each other all that well, but they had developed some kind of relationship over their affection and investment in Jesse. They had earned each other's respect at some point, which was not an easy deed. They had an unspoken vow of honesty; and staring into the older woman's green eyes, Shelby was going to invoke that. She was a mom now too.

"Heather, I'm not going to tell the police about this. Or anybody, for that matter. Please, I just want to go home."

"You can't possibly think I'd condone this violence or come up here to cause you even more harm."

She could hear a spike of offense in Heather's tone. She was silently asking if Shelby didn't know who she was anymore, but the truth was Shelby didn't.

"I don't think I can be confident in what anybody is capable of doing or not anymore. And I just want you to understand where I'm coming from. I'm not going to change my mind, Heather. Not ever. I don't care if I get dragged kicking and screaming to a police station, I'm not testifying against Jesse. I can't be responsible for sending him to jail."

Heather visibly mellowed and regarded her with this new realm of compassion that Shelby didn't like any more than the previous ones, but at least it felt less menacing.

"You love my son, don't you?"

Shelby didn't respond, but surely the way her whole body turned into stone, her breath hitched and her face flushed were enough signs for somebody as experienced in reading people as Heather to get her answer.

"I know he loves you, to have done what he did."

Shelby nodded, incredibly self-conscious and closed her eyes, not wanting to crumble in front of Heather St. James, head bitch in charge of the fucking FBI and the scarier parent of the student she had just sort of taken advantage of.

"I'm not saying that this is your fault, and I want you to understand that. It would be the same as affirming that any woman that falls for any guy is opening herself for abuse. My son did something incredibly wrong, that is not to be blamed on you in any way. And his life should be over because of it."

"I could never do that."

"What he did to you is unforgivable…"

"And yet, I forgave him…"

"And it's abuse."

Shelby opened her eyes and faced Heather, hoping at least some of the fire that was cursing through her veins was conveyed appropriately. The only good thing about carrying the weight of this lie forever on her shoulders was that she was not going to have a thousand people making that argument to her every day.

"I know. I'm not stupid or deluded, I'm aware that what he has done should have bigger repercussions and that if he ever hurts another soul, I'll be partially responsible, because I held back. I know I should feel more sorry for myself, and that I should resent Jesse a whole lot more. And I certainly feel pretty betrayed; but I'm tired, sick, confused and torn, and I just…"

"Love him."

Shelby had no clue if Heather could imagine to which extents she had loved Jesse. In fact, the older woman was seeing so clearly through her, that she expected to be unmasked for her own indiscretion. And how disgusted would Heather be when she was sure that Shelby had touched her son? Would that wipe out the gratefulness and kindness the woman was showing her?

"Mom?"

Jesse showed up at the door with his hair wet and a towel thrown carelessly over his shoulder, indicating where he had been all this time. Against any good judgment, Shelby shot him a pleading look. He might have been the cause of all of her misery, but Heather was right, he loved her too. Even in all his selfishness, she doubted he would let anybody take at stab at her. And she needed him to deal with his mother, because she was too confused and fearful to progress that conversation.

"I'll send the doctor in, while I have a private moment with my son. If you need anything…"

Heather left right away with Jesse in tow. He shrugged at her at the door, before turning around and following his mother to the front of the house, and five seconds later the man she supposed to be the doctor entered her room carrying a bulky black case that looked too much like a prop in a horror movie not to make her shudder.

He had grey hair and a flimsy build, but that wasn't exactly putting Shelby's spirits at rest; neither did the benevolent smile he offered. Shelby positioned the pillows against the headboard and leaned back, her nails nervously brushing her legs while the doctor rounded the bed and sat next to her.

"Hi, Ms. Corcoran." Shelby tilted her head and flexed an eyebrow, wondering if the fact that Heather had given him her real name was a good or a bad thing. "I'm Doctor Scheinberg, the St. James' family physician."

"Okay," she answered drily, keeping her eyes on his open bag and whatever was coming out of there. So far, it was only the stethoscope; consequently, she didn't try to make a run for the window just yet.

"There is no reason to be afraid," he assured gently, but she flashed him an icy glare. Was he serious? Did he often make house calls to check on the conditions of hostages? Because she felt she had plenty of reasons to be overwrought, and the fact that he seemed at ease only contributed to that.

"I just want this all to be over," she clarified between gritted teeth, while the cold metal touched her skin. Then he put the cuff on her arm to measure her blood pressure and questioned about her history of diseases, so she casually mentioned cancer, as if she didn't feel a pang where her uterus should be at the mere thought of it.

"Do you feel any pain?" He stopped to write some notes in a tiny pad, and Shelby anxiously tried to get a look at it, but it was too far away.

"No, I just feel like all my bones have been incinerated and then patched back together."

The acid response got his attention, but he seemed more bemused than anything. "I was told you had a nasty head wound."

She dismissed with a half-hearted "It was not that bad," but he seemed less worried and she took it that a dark sense of humor was a positive signal after a probable concussion.

The voices of Heather and Jesse started getting louder in the living room, and she could discern Jesse saying he was sorry about five times. Doctor Scheinberg was meticulously examining her wrists and then poking her arms and hands with his pen and asking her if she was feeling it. "Flex your fingers, please," he asked and then added "I need to check if there was any nerve damage, Ms Corcoran," when she responded by looking blankly at him.

Shelby grew fidgety, because it hadn't occurred to her that she could have such a serious injury just from being restrained, and obeyed, now more invested in the whole exam as well, but it seemed that her hands were thankfully fine.

"Okay, I think we just need to clean these cuts and dress them. You don't need stitches." He concluded, making her almost weep in relief.

"What, Nurse Jesse didn't do a good job at cleaning them?" she joked and he laughed, actually laughed, and Shelby was starting to believe the old man didn't have sinister intentions against her.

Heather's voice took a dip into an acute territory Shelby knew so well from her job, and she could tell that her discussion with Jesse was making the woman increasingly emotional. She heard the word 'jail' being brought up and then Jesse said something back, but the only thing Shelby managed to pinpoint clearly was the sound after that. The patent reverberation of a smack.

Shelby felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and froze. That mere echo made her sick. She hadn't realized that, damn it, one more thing that Jesse would deprive her of would be juicy daytime melodrama; she never watched TV, but she was sure looking forward to enjoying the crappiness of it when she left her job to become a stay-at-home mom. Now, violence put her on edge.

She was so sidetracked by Heather's action that she only noted that the doctor was about to pierce her with a needle when she felt a pinch in her arm.

"No!" She jumped away from him, shaking, trying to get away, and her snap was so loud that by the time he explained that it was just a shot of antibiotics and that she needed it because yada, yada, infection, yada, yada, fever, both Heather and Jesse had materialized next to her and Jesse had quickly climbed into the mattress and hugged her.

"Bill, Shelby is terrified of needles," Jesse explained right away, making the doctor become less befuddled. It hadn't been the real reason she had freaked out, but Shelby was good with not having to enlighten things. The doctor took another pad, one that seemed to be for prescriptions, and started explaining all about the antibiotics that he was ordering her to take, but she was already drowning him out.

Jesse was listening intently, but she brought his head down and forced him to look at her.

"Can we please go home now? Please?"

Jesse nodded without even checking with his mother, but Heather made it clear two seconds later that she was driving Shelby back to Lima while Jesse would accompany the doctor back to Toledo, and neither Jesse's protests nor Shelby's were capable of dissuading her.

So, an hour later, Shelby found herself sitting on the passenger seat of her own Range Rover, a death grip on her Blackberry after she had checked her messages; she would have pre-dialed 911, but she didn't want to seem too obvious. At least she had a phone, and the gun Heather had taken back from Jesse was locked on the glove compartment in front of her, with any luck still unloaded.

The road was still a bit wet so they were progressing slowly, and the car was swaying in a way that was making Shelby extra sleepy, but she was fighting it with every bit of power she still possessed. Heather was extremely vigilant due to the poor conditions of their trip, but couldn't help stealing a glance at her once again covered wounds every ten minutes.

"It's not his fault, Heather. I struggled against the handcuffs. They were tight. I'm sure Jesse had no idea it was so tight."

Heather harrumphed and shook her head, but didn't initiate what they both knew to be a failed debate. They both were too hard-headed. Shelby turned away, feeling bashful about going on a limb on Jesse's favor – after all she was aware that it was Jesse's fault she was bound to begin with and that it was yet another detail Heather didn't care about knowing – and told herself she was only going to rest her eyes for a second, but ended up jolting twenty minutes later according to her phone. They were still on the mountain, progressing even more unhurriedly, since it had started raining again.

"I owe you so much," Heather ended the thick silence, her voice broken and a choked sob resonating between them and startling Shelby. Gone was the practiced stoicism, and abruptly Heather's green eyes were brimming with tears. "I could… should have lost my son. And the reason why it should have happened devastates me. I'm so disappointed at myself as a mother, at my partner as a father, at my kid as a human being. I'm so frightened, and I feel torn too because everything that I am, that I worked hard to be my whole life, tells me I should deliver my own son to justice, and yet, I can't. But the worst part is knowing you are this hurt, that you were emotionally and physically abused by my kid, and there is nothing in this world I can do to fix this, to make it better. It's only been a couple of hours, but you are wrecked."

Shelby looked away from the older woman and brushed her arm uncomfortably. She knew what Heather was doing; she was examining her the same way she did with the case subjects that ended up on her desk, and she was giving her a reality check about emotional trauma. Shelby understood why Heather would try to nudge her like that, the woman's guilt was palpable even as Shelby resisted trusting her, but she really wasn't ready to be put into that box.

"I can see all the marks I note in victims in your behavior right now, and I know my son put this dark thing in there. It's okay to be confused and torn, due to your feelings for Jesse. But I don't want to hear you defending him or trying to explain him. Because seeing you remain loyal to him right now, it's just pissing me off. It's my job, my life obligation, to not let victims disintegrate under the pressure of their sympathies for their captors and the only reason why I'm vacillating right now is because Jesse is my kid. And that's going to haunt forever."

"You can keep him away from me." The words had been out of her mouth before she could have stopped it, not that she was sure she should have. She really had forgiven Jesse, and what they shared was actually pretty special and she would remember it fondly despite the circumstances. However, she had signed up to a lifetime of silencing and bottling up something extraordinarily muddy. She would fall apart sooner rather than later if Jesse remained perched on her shoulder, taunting her and reminding her. "I… I don't know how to ask him this, but I need some space right now."

Shelby had initially considered anticipating her leave. She had no idea how she would find the power to carry Vocal Adrenaline through another Nationals and take Beth home. However, she needed to stay busy. It was the only way she knew how to cope, never stopping long enough for thoughts to arise.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I never intended to allow him to go back to Vocal Adrenaline, and I'll find a way to get him out of your classes too. Besides, he already knows he's spending his whole summer in some sort of military camp, which his father and I will choose. I know you probably don't think an ambient like that is ideal right now, but I need him to be in a place he hates and wishes he could leave, so that he can experience the feeling a little bit. Also, no more freedom to come and go wherever he wants and do whatever pleases him. He's not staying at the condo in Lima anymore, he'll make the trip from and to Toledo everyday with a designated driver, and he is not allowed to go anywhere but school. Weekends will be spent in community service with any organization that tends to women who have been victim of violence, and I'll make sure he talks to a couple of kidnapping victims I have kept in contact with so he can understand the full extent of his actions. I know it's not enough punishment for what he did, or half of what I owe you…"

"No, I… Thanks."

Shelby was actually impressed, though she shouldn't have been. It wasn't jail, and it wasn't anything that would hurt Jesse like he had hurt her, but she didn't want revenge. Or justice, for that matter. She wanted him to understand that his actions were not okay and she wanted him to become a better person.

Heather seemingly wanted to give Jesse tools to turn his remorse into a device to improve himself as a human being, and Shelby endorsed that. At least, it was some consequence; she had been disillusioned with herself for not reporting something she would have, if anybody else in the world had been the one to point a weapon at her and assault her.

The truth was she was also protecting herself, and not just because she had broken a rule by surrendering into Jesse's body. The more she had to admit that this happened to others, to go over the details and get asked about her well-being, the harder it would be for her to move on. She didn't mind that shutting down and pretending that it was all a nightmare wasn't healthy. She had so many eggs in her basket at that point of her life, she just needed to get back on her feet and figure out her emotions later.

After four hours, Heather had finally managed to reach Lima, and had taken them to the mall where she had parked her own car before going to get Shelby's at Carmel. Shelby felt frankly crappy about having doubted the woman's principles, especially when she had been hugged tightly.

"It's is all over now. You're safe," she had whispered softly into the younger woman's ear and Shelby had needed to steel herself not to break down. She had genuinely been unsure until the very last second, and she was dying to rush home, take a bath, eat her own food, lie on her own bed, and let the veracity of her security flood her dispirited being. "I hope you'll be fine; that if you need any help to get over this you will find it and that you will recover fully. If you need to talk to someone, even though we are not exactly friends, I would love to be there for you. And don't ever forget, I owe you."

Shelby had nodded quietly into the older woman's shoulder and then let her go. It was too much information for her to process. She wasn't sure if Heather was frantically trying to patch a band-aid over both of their open, burning wounds, if she felt too accountable to resist offering her companionship regardless of the fact that her being Jesse's mother demanded a Wall of China between them now or if she just needed to urge the brunette to keep her pain between the knowing players.

Shelby wished Heather hadn't tried to be kind though. She was used to being alone, but the isolation she was about to experience over this secret was sure to be unmatched. And once the car door was shut behind Heather, it all crawled over her heart so hastily, that she just jumped into the driver's seat clumsily and steered her Range Rover towards Lima Memorial without a thought.

The hospital nurses were sweet to her and let her see and hold Beth, even though it was not visiting hours yet; admittedly, her saying she had been mugged the night before to explain the bruises on her face earned her extra sympathy points, but as she cradled the little bundle of life against her chest, knowing she was her daughter and she would get to have the baby in her home soon, for the first time in twelve hours the storm of daggers piercing into her relentlessly stopped and she felt calm.

TGO

Shelby had never been able to cope with a high-school crush. She had experienced attracting a lot of sexual desire, mostly from her reputation of being reckless and easy, but now, almost turning forty, it had been the first time she had been forced to walk down a school corridor and then frantically try to go in another direction as a boy surged on her path. And it wasn't even because of her love, per se.

It was simply that crossing paths with Jesse made her abruptly come down with all those symptoms her female students had described to her at one point or another – sweaty hands, blushing, accelerated heart beat, nausea, coyness, a rush of adrenaline and all her thoughts turning into static. If that was what dating as a teenager felt like, she could almost understand why she had so much drama in her hands all the time.

Fortunately, those moments were rare. The first day she had returned to Carmel High, almost one week after her abduction, due to her persistent infection and then to the fact that Beth had gained sufficient weigh to be taken home, she walked into her auditorium straight into Jesse. Standing there, five feet away from him, in front of her other 25 performers, she had been paralyzed.

Thankfully, Jesse had been there to explain to the team that, just like Heather had promised, he was quitting. He had answered all of their questions and talked at length about a vocal chord injury Shelby knew to be inexistent, and then finally left for good, being followed by Shelby herself. She had needed to cancel her first rehearsal back after one measly hour so she could finish shaking in the privacy of her office, and stepping inside the room where it had all begun, everything had come pouring down on her and she had ended up suffering a very real, very daunting panic attack.

Jonathan had found her curled on the floor, thinking she was going to die, and her overwhelming stress coupled with her notice had been enough for everybody to concur that she needed an assistant. Someone she would train on the job to take over during the summer after Nationals, which had allowed her to spend even less time at school. She would put everything together and then leave Dustin Goolsby running the rehearsals for hours, then she would return with Beth, scream at them, fix things and get some real progress out of the team.

It was hard to take Nationals without Jesse and with her working part-time, but she still had a vision for true spectacle, and the other teams might be good, and hell, even better singers or dancers; however, after seven years, they were still trying to figure out to put on a magnificent show. That's why she once again won. Even when Vocal Adrenaline was flawed, and that year it was more glaring than ever, she kept people stunned and excited long enough that before anybody actually questioned that misstep or that flat note, she had a new shiny trophy on her case.

By graduation day, she had her office all packed. The only reason she was attending was because she was being honored for the eighth year in a roll as best teacher, and well, not even sharing the vicinity with Jesse could make her back down from giving one last hug to some of her favorite kids.

Jesse didn't engage her, not even when he thanked her profusely in his Valedictorian speech, and all Heather had done was offer a smile from afar. Theodore on the other hand, had clearly been kept out of the secret because he had approached with his daughter to grill her on her decision to quit while a healthy-looking Sophie fawned all over Beth. It had been awkward, to say the least, and it reminded her of how lonely she had indeed become. It was so hard to have any conversation with anyone in her life without it being swarmed with deceit and evasiveness.

By the time it was all over and she had left Beth with Andrea for a minute to go grab boxes from the office and transfer them to her car, she was exhausted. She stormed into the place making sure to not dwell on anything too much, because she certainly didn't need a repeat from her first day back, but on top of one of her boxes there was a piece of folded paper she didn't recall.

She closed the door carefully behind her, all air abandoning her as she already knew who would do that, and picked up the letter. She expected something less direct, honestly; maybe more fumbling and certainly with a lot of discomfited apologies she wouldn't believe to be wholesome. But all she got from Jesse as a good-bye, fittingly enough, was a song. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she read the lyrics, even thought she knew them by heart:

If I should stay

I would only be in your way.

So I'll go but I know

I'll think of you

Every step of the way.

And I... will always love you...

I will always love you...

My darling you

Bitter sweet memories,

That is all I'm taking with me...

So goodbye, please don't cry.

We both know I'm not what you need.

And I... will always love you.

I... will always love you

I hope life treats you kind

And I hope you'll have

All you've dreamed of.

And I wished you joy

And happiness.

But above all this, I wish you love.

And I... will always love you...

I will always love you...

I will always love you...

I will always love you...

I will always love you...

She hugged the now wet paper against her chest as she both sobbed and chuckled. She had fallen to pieces because of him, and she wasn't even halfway through mending herself. But not having Jesse was the worst part of all, by far. And the whole farewell was tacky and it twisted the knife a bit in her heart, but she knew the feelings were true. She was happy they both had found ways to accept they were not the person for one another, and as big a scar as his cruelty had left, she wished him well too.