The Heart of a Broken Soul

Of Drunks and Cabbages

A/N: Dahlia Rose-Marie, Well I Don't Mind, liiddee, Venetiangrl92, Karli82; thank you all for your reviews, and your advice is definitely welcome!

This chapter really has nothing to do with anything. Apart from this one sentence that I thought 'hey, this could be important!' Anyway, it was fun to write, so enjoy! :D

"Come on, Gabby! It's just one!"

"No."

"Have some fun, for once in your life."

"I'll have fun when I'm old enough."

"One. Just one."

"No! ...Okay, fine. Just one."

Gabby took the shot glass, staring doubtfully at the clear liquid inside. It looked just like water. She imagined it was as she pinched her nose and tipped it up. The vodka was bland and disgusting, and burnt the whole way down.

She didn't know how she'd gotten into this situation. Well, that was a lie – she did know – but then again, she didn't. Why, oh why, had she agreed to go to Lucy's boyfriend's? She knew the two would be getting drunk.

Gabby figured it was the small part of her that wanted to try alcohol, to prove that she was mature and responsible enough to drink. But alcohol makes an idiot out of everyone, and the second and third shots went down much easier than the first.

"There we go!" Lucy enthused. She was already halfway gone, and Cole couldn't tell up from down at this point. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Gabby told her. It was the truth. She didn't feel any different to what she did five seconds ago. Which was a shame, because she was trying to forget the previous night.

She hadn't seen Jeremy again, no yet, anyway. Nor had the police shown up to arrest her, but Gabby expected one or the other at some point. She tried to ignore the churning of her stomach, and focus instead on the spirits working its way into her bloodstream.

"It'll take a while to kick in, you know. Like a cabbage."

Cole perked up instantly. "I own a cabbage!" he slurred. "Because cabbages are good."

Lucy grinned, leaning over to kiss him. Their lips fused together as she moved her whole body to straddle him. Gabby pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly lonely. She took another two shots. Picked up an unlit smoke and inspected it. Wished Filip was here, so she wasn't just a third wheel. She missed his smile and his voice and the way he made her smile when he did anything. Maybe she'd go visit him.

Yeah.

That was a good idea.

How far away did he live? Half an hour? An hour. Gabby figured it was closer to the latter guess. She glanced at the clock. It was only midnight. One o'clock wasn't really too late to visit.

But maybe it was too early.

Filip wouldn't take too kindly to being woken up at one in the morning. Be rational, Gabby.

Lucy and Cole were really getting into it. Lucy tugged at the hem of Cole's shirt, the both of them completely forgetting Gabby's existence as they lost themselves in their pleasure.

Gabby scowled. She wanted her Filip. She wanted to touch his face. Yes, that's right. His face. Faces were nice to touch. Gabby laughed at the thought of faces.

One more shot later and she was en route to Filip's, tripping and stumbling down the street as her mind was vaguely aware of the fact that her bag was still at Cole's.

It was one-thirty. In the morning. And someone was trying to bang Filip's door in.

He'd ignored it at first, because Lord knows he didn't want to talk to anyone at this hour of the bloody morning. After the knocking had continued for a good five minutes, he'd gotten out of bed, grudgingly, and stumbled to the front door.

He flicked the entrance light on, opening the door to find a swaying, unfocused Gabby. He blinked, dumbfounded. Was she drunk?

Gabby raised a hand in greeting, as she stumbled forward to place a sloppy kiss on Filip's lips. He caught her shoulders to keep her upright. "Are you drunk?" he asked, because no other words came to mind.

"No," Gabby slurred. "No, I don't drink. But don't tell Bobby, though. He thinks I'm at Luce's, because I was gunna stay there, but then we went to Cole's, and I came here because I wanted to touch your face."

Filip was speechless. He really didn't know what to say, torn between amusement, lust, and his desire to scream at her for getting drunk. He was certain Gabby had never drunk alcohol before, not even a sip, and now, here she was, barely able to stand.

She reached a hand up to him, her fingers lightly tracing one of his scars as she watched it intently. Her body pressed into his, and he groaned internally. Seventeen, he told himself. Why, God, is she only seventeen?

He dropped his hands to grab her waist. "What the hell are ye doin' drinkin'?" he asked, stepping back.

Gabby grinned, touching his lips. "Gotta have some fun," she told him, leaning in to press their lips together again. She wrapped her arms around his waist, more to steady herself than anything.

Filip groaned into her lips. He wanted this, wanted it more than anything, but he had to restrain himself. It wasn't worth getting into trouble for, and though he'd whittled his feelings for Fiona down to 'old-friend' love, he couldn't stop her face worming into his thoughts. She was there every time his mind came back to life after kissing Gabby. Every time the impure thoughts of her came to mind.

It was betrayal. Simple as that.

But he couldn't bring himself to leave Gabby. Whenever she smiled or laughed, a small part of him came back to life. Every time she spoke he thought that maybe the world wasn't all that horrible. And when she did stupid things like get drunk and wake him up at one-thirty in the morning, he couldn't help but smile and wish he was ten years younger and that Ireland never happened.

Filip loved his daughter, and his wife, but the thought of never seeing either of them again, not being able to watch his daughter grow up and have her own children... the thought shattered him, and he spent countless hours crying over it all, trying to bawl out his guilt and regrets.

When he was with Gabby, he could forget it all. Maybe that made him a horrible person for wanting to forget his wife and daughter, just for a moment, but there it was. It was something he never wanted to lose.

If that meant accepting that he'd betrayed his wife, so be it.

And if that meant holding off for a year, well... he'd have to manage.

He grabbed Gabby's hips, pulling her away. "Come on; I'll take ye home," he said.

Gabby's eyes widened. "Oh, no, you can't do that," she told him. "Bobby'll murder me."

"What am I supposed to do with ye, then?"

Gabby stumbled over nothing as she grabbed Filip's hand and pulled him towards the bedroom.

"No," Filip said. "No, we've been through this already."

"Well, I guess ye can sleep on the couch then," Gabby replied, mocking his accent. She didn't let him go, however, and Filip found himself being forcefully dragged into his own bedroom, and pulled down onto his own bed. "It's just sleeping," Gabby said, curling up next to him.

Filip sighed, despite the smile on his lips. It was nice to share a bed again. Even if he hadn't had a choice in the matter. "You know..." Gabby trailed off, lost, before starting again. "You know I love you, right?"

It was as though someone had stabbed him in the stomach and then given him a million dollars at the same time. His mind went blank as every word that he'd learned of the past twenty-seven years, in all the languages he knew, just slipped away, and instead of saying anything with any sort of intelligence behind it, he just said, "yeah."

He mentally kicked himself for not saying something smarter. Instead, he rolled over to place a kiss on the top of Gabby's head, but she'd already fallen asleep.

There were two things Gabby was sure of when she woke the next morning. The first was that she was never, ever, ever drinking again. The second was that there was an arm around her waist and a warm body pressed up against hers. She froze, trying to remember what had happened.

She'd gone to Cole's with Lucy.

She'd had a shot.

And another two.

That was where her memory started to go fuzzy. She vaguely remembered a couple more, maybe two, shots, and then nothing. There was Lucy and Cole on the couch, making out, getting ready to bump some uglies.

And there was Gabby, in someone's bed, with someone's arm around her. She felt her body. Fully-clothed. Good. Hopefully nothing had happened.

But what if it had? She could be have a disease, or be pregnant! What would Bobby say? What would Filip say? Gabby groaned, both because she couldn't bear the thought of having to tell him, and because her head hurt something chronic. She rolled onto her stomach, pressing her face into the pillow, refusing to look at the other inhabitant of the bed. If she was already screwed, a few more minutes sleep to lessen her pain wouldn't hurt.

Filip would be crushed.

Yeah, let's go get drunk. Whose stupid idea was that? She was never touching alcohol again. Not after this. Not ever. And speaking of Filip. Gabby sniffed.

She'd know that cologne anywhere. Unless she'd been blind-drunk, and attracted to some random person by scent...

Gabby risked a glance.

It was Filip alright. She let out a sigh.

He looked so peaceful asleep, his face relaxed and free of stress lines and frowns. It was as though he didn't have a single worry. Gabby knew that he spent more time worrying than not, and she worried about him, too. But he wouldn't talk about it, and she didn't know what to do.

Gabby didn't want to get up. Instead, she melted into Filip's arms, burying her face in his neck, and prayed that he didn't wake up anytime soon. His body was warm and strong, and he breathed softly into her hair, blissfully unaware of anything. Gabby absentmindedly traced the tattoo on his chest with her fingers. It was of a hundred dollar bill.

Another wave of pain struck her head, and she winced. She'd seen Bobby many a times with a hangover, but always laughed at him and told him to man up. She would never tell him that again.

The arm around Gabby's waist twitched. It tightened around her, then disappeared altogether as Filip groggily rubbed his face. He opened his eyes to a head of hair, blinked in a moment's confusion before pressed back of his hand to her forehead. He chuckled.

"How's the head?" he asked.

"It's not funny," Gabby whined.

Filip sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Come on; ye can't stay here all day." Gabby watched as he got out of bed, stretching. She sighed.

"I'm gunna go back to sleep." She curled into a tight ball, pulling the doona up to her chin, unwilling to face the world.

The doona disappeared a moment later. "It's your own damn fault, so ye can suffer the consequences. I'll take ye for breakfast, and drop ye off at Lucy's."

"I don't want breakfast," Gabby moaned. The very thought of food made her feel sick.

She squealed as Filip grab her around the waist and hauled her out of bed. "Sure ye do. And it's exactly wha' ye'll do if ye don't want Bobby finding out about your night."

Gabby grumbled. "You wouldn't."

Filip set her down. "Ye sure about that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay, I'll go to breakfast."

"Good."