The Heart of a Broken Soul

Of Insomnia and Blushes

A/N: Hi guys! Miss me? I know, I know. I really had a lot of trouble with this chapter. It's got a fair bit of... Well, what you've all been waiting for (if you know what I mean), and I'm not really the biggest expert in it; plus I get embarrassed about it...

Anyhow, thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers and all my fans. This story is definitely near its end. I estimate 1, maybe 2, very possibly (but unlikely) 3 chapter left, which is already more than I said, but you know... So, I hope you all enjoy, let me know with a review ;)

During the days following the man's death, Gabby was a mess. Every waking moment filled her with the incomprehensible fear that Darby or the police would roll up on her and take her away, either to prison or to her own grave. The rare moments she did sleep, that same dream plagued her, so much so that she spent countless hours pouring over old books, trying to find out if the cliff she pushed Filip off every other night was real or imagined. Her schoolwork was suffering, to the point where Bobby suggested she drop out, and her relationships were all hanging by threads.

Tig and Filip, obviously, knew why she was so nervous and jumpy, but the others had no idea. How was Juice to know that when he put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention she would scream obscenities and threats at him until Filip dragged her into a corner to calm her down? She'd gone and apologized to him later on, but since then had been keeping his distance. It was a shame, because Gabby rather liked him.

She'd gotten even with Gemma, ripping the woman's head open for what she'd done. It was the shock of Gabby's outburst that was now keeping Gemma away, and perhaps a hint of guilt; she'd apologised, explained how she was worried Gabby would leave them and not return. A silly worry, she'd admitted, considering Gabby wouldn't just leave, not now that she had Filip.

After the two outbursts, the rest of the club unconsciously avoided her. Even poor Bobby was beside himself.

It was just, she couldn't help reliving that moment. Every time she walked into Bobby's house she saw his motionless body, the floor slippery with blood. She remembered how he dragged her into the spare bedroom, how his eyes had had a malicious glint in them as he told her what he would do. It had been her who'd killed him, discovered that, like her, he was just a fleshy bag of bone and meat and blood. They weren't all that much different, he and her. And how easily had he died? How easily could any of them die? All it took was a bullet, a knife, an accident. All that needed to be on the other end of that bullet or gun was someone who thought their life was worth more.

Was Gabby's life worth more than that man's? When had she become so important? Even though Filip and Tig insisted she was worth more than that man, did Darby? What was he going to do to her, now that she had killed one of his men? Tig had assured her that the club had come to an agreement with Darby, but that didn't lessen her fear of him.

When Gabby mentioned this to Filip, he just shook his head seriously, and told her she was safe.

"He migh' be crazy, but 'e's not stupid. We came to an agreement, and he'll honour that unless 'e wants to die," he told her, puffing on a smoke. He wasn't nearly as concerned as Gabby thought he should be but, she figured, he was probably used to it by now. "Ye're gunna get past this shite, alrigh'?"

"With Tig's help?" Gabby questioned, raising an eyebrow. Tig was going the wrong way about trying to help her, from offering to buy her a gun (just in case), to assuring her it gets easier after the first time. He meant well, she knew, but directions on the best place to shoot a man wasn't really helping her.

"Aye, ye've got a point, there. But with the rest o' us locked up, it's either him or Unser."

Neither option appealed to her. "I'll come visit," she promised.

Something flashed in Filip's eyes. "Ye bloody well will not! I don't want ye goin' anywhere near that place, ye got it? It's no place fer a girl!"

Gabby persisted. "I don't care. I said I'll visit and I will," she firmly stated, leaving no room for debate.

With a heavy sigh, Filip shook his head and fished around in his fridge for a beer. He ripped the top off it, tossing the metal lid in the bin, and slumped back down in his armchair.

Bobby had agreed to let Gabby stay at Filip's for a few days, partially because at the end of her stay was the trial – none of them had high hopes for it – and partially because Bobby just didn't know what else to do with her.

"How long do you think you'll get?" Gabby asked, hugging her knees to her chest.

She'd been tossing and turning whether or not to ask for a while now, but it was something she wanted to know.

Filip didn't answer right away. He continued sipping his beer and puffing on his smoke as though Gabby hadn't spoke, but she could see the slight change in his composure, and the way his eyebrows dipped. "Two... maybe three years," he finally said.

It wasn't what Gabby had been expecting. She choked on her words as she comprehended that amount of time. Two years was long enough, but three? By the time he got out she'd almost be at the legal drinking age. Of course, that was the least of her problems; three years before they could go out and just have dinner or sleep next to each other. Three years before he would make her another cup of Irish tea; she could make her own tea, but it was never as good. Nothing she made tasted as nice as when Filip made it. Three years. She'd thought one was bad enough.

It was at that moment Gabby remembered what she'd been meaning to do before the attack. What she'd been meaning to do for a long while. It was definitely still something she wanted, but would Filip be up for it?

With an expel of breath, she approached him, placing a leg on either side of his to straddle him as she tugged the beer out of his hands and placed it on the coffee table. Filip didn't object, so she leaned into him, pressing their lips together. Gabby could feel his soft breath, taste the nicotine and beer as she deepened the kiss. She seized fistfuls of his shirt as his hands travelled her back.

Pressing her body into his, she broke away from his lips, letting their eyes meet. "Just this once," she begged.

Filip closed his eyes, letting out a half-sigh, half-moan. "Gabby, I don' want to have this conversation again."

"Then don't. I don't want to wait three more years. Do you?"

She saw a faint smile flit across his face, then it was gone. "I don' expect you to be here when I get out."

"And I don't want to have this conversation again, Filip Telford. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to be here when you get out. Why can't you just accept that?"

Gabby's eyes were moist with tears. She was sick of telling him she wasn't going to leave, just because he was ten years older than her. She was sick of him telling her to find a better life. She was sick of guns and jail and... and Gemma. She was sick of waking up in the middle of the night, bawling and needed to check that Filip and everyone were still alive. She was sick of nothing going her way.

It was a surprise to her, then, when Filip's lips crashed against hers', and his hands fell to her ass, grabbing the covered flesh as he lifted her. With a shriek, Gabby hooked her arms around his neck. "Just like that?" she managed.

"Aye," he said. "Jus' like tha'."

He dumped her on the bed and straddled her as he tore his shirt off. Gabby's eyes travelled his bare chest with a mixture of awe and nerves. She memorised every tattoo and scar; the dips of his abs and even the exact shape of his navel as she remembered she wouldn't see any of it for another couple of years.

Filip grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head, before leaning in to kiss her deeply, his hands making short work of her jeans. He caught her bottom lip, sucking on it, then moved down her jaw-line to pick a spot on her neck. His hand slipped under her knickers, and Gabby let out a gasp of surprise when he started rubbing her in small circles, sending shocks of electricity through her body.

With heavy, laboured breathing, Gabby reached for Filip's trouser's, unbuttoning them and pulling the zipper down with difficulty. The heat pooling in her groin was distracting, and her nerves were growing, thoughts running through her head.

Did it hurt? How long would it take? How long was it supposed to take? What was she supposed to do? What if she was so bad at it that Filip never wanted to speak to her again? Or maybe he'd think that there was something wrong with her... bits. Was there something wrong with them? Gabby had never wondered what female genitalia was supposed to look like before. Then a single, conflicting thought ran through her mind; what if I get pregnant? Surely Filip would be prepared for that, though. He wasn't stupid. But the thought of asking sent blood rushing to her cheeks.

Filip noticed. "Wha' is it?"

"I..." she trailed off, her blush deepening. "Do you have... um, condoms?" She breathed the last word, unsure if Filip had even heard it.

But he just chuckled, reached over to his bedside table, and pulled out a small, square package. "Ye're sure abou' this?" he asked.

Gabby nodded, determined, as she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him into a firm kiss. With her heart pounding, she unhooked her bra, slipping out of it, and tossed it off the bed, baring all. Filip's eyes flickered from her lips to her breasts, torn. He finally settled on her breasts, taking the left in his mouth, sucking and licking and nipping as he kicked his trousers off.

When they were both free of clothing and Filip had expertly rolled on his condom – Gabby was both too embarrassed and scared to – she pulled him up. "Does... does it hurt?" she whispered. She'd heard tell that the first time was slightly painful.

"Erm..." Filip blinked. "Well... I'm no' a girl," he told her. "If ye don' want to, jus' tell me."

"I want to."

Placing a light kiss on her forehead, Filip pushed into her. Any pain that Gabby felt was forgotten as she lost herself in ecstasy. She hooked her arms under his, nails digging into his shoulders as he kissed every inch of skin he could find.

It was slow at first, Filip making sure she wasn't hurting or hadn't changed her mind, but he soon picked up the pace, burying himself inside her again and again, his breathing getting heavier the closer he got.

Curling fists in his hair, Gabby pulled Filip's face to hers and their lips meshed together as she reached her peak. Her hips jerked as she climaxed, moaning into his mouth. With a final thrust, Filip came after her. He rested his weight on top of her, panting, before rolling off.

He knotted the condom and tossed it in the waste-paper basket, then fell back onto the pillows, pulling a breathless Gabby to him. "Reckon I still got it," he joked as Gabby threw an arm around his waist.

She shrugged. "It was alright, I guess."

He looked down at her. "Is tha' wha' ye think?"

Gabby smiled shyly, reaching her hand up to trace the scar on his cheek. Filip's large hand enclosed over hers, pulling it away from his face. "We should get some sleep, love."

Gabby nodded. "I love you, Filip."

"Aye; I love ye, too."