Empty's Theme Park [07/25/2014]
May 12, 2019 22:12:01 GMT -5
Post by Admin on May 12, 2019 22:12:01 GMT -5
February 14, 2014 || Reno (off camera)
He'd only been gone for twenty hours but it already felt like a lifetime. Lyv had spent the entire day haunting the house like a ghost, flitting from room to room in an attempt to keep her mind off the emptiness. More than once she'd caught herself creeping down the stairs to Jackson's gym in the basement, surprised each time to be greeted with nothing but darkness and silence. After more than two years of being essentially attached at the hip, this just felt wrong.By the time she realized what day it was, the sun was already starting to set and the depression was already starting to sink in. It wasn't just that it was a fake Hallmark holiday. It was also their wedding anniversary and with all the stress, they had both forgotten about it. What did that say about their future? She didn't even want to think about what that meant so she'd thrown herself into housework that had been waiting for months.
For the millionth time, she checked the screen of her phone, feeling that sinking disappointment when she saw that the last message was from over six hours ago. With shaking hands, she typed out a quick message, hoping it would go through. The fact that she hadn't heard anything from him in hours was starting to mess with her head. Even when he went into town for groceries, he was constantly sending her messages.
Setting the phone down on the nightstand, she settled back against the pillow, hugging the Disney Duffy bear that her husband had bought for her when she was pregnant. They'd both pretended at the time that it was for Christian but he knew her better than that— the memory brought the prickle of tears with it. Lifting a hand to swipe angrily at her eyes, she let out a sigh, looking over at Christian who was blissfully passed out next to her. With his little fist curled and pressed against his cheek, he was a perfect mini version of his father. Reaching out to stroke his hair, she tried her best not to wake him just to have something to do. As if aware of her mood, the ten-month-old shifted, cuddling against her hand and arm.
"I miss Daddy too," she leaned down, kissing his chubby little cheek, "but it'll be okay," her voice was close to breaking. "He's gonna come home to us good as new." The words were mostly for her benefit. Maybe if she repeated them enough, they'd prove to be true. Maybe if she said them loud enough, they'd drown out that sibilant whisper in the back of her head that sounded too much like Clay, telling her that he was as good as gone already. Christian and this big, empty house were her consolation prizes.
REHAB JOURNAL, DAY 1
February 14th. I didn't realize what day it was until I went to post this. I'm going to keep these entries marked private for the time being. If and when I decide to unleash them on the public, it'll probably be with much cringing and some creative editing.
Accountability begins with me. There's a poster on the wall that says that and while I'm sure all the "hang in there" kitten on a rope posters were snapped up back when that Pretzel Wagon Simpson's episode aired, it's still kitschy as fuck. Makes me roll my eyes but since I felt the need to bitch about it, it must be doing its job. Accountability is what brought me here, I suppose. Well that and the urging of both my wife and a woman I consider one of my best friends. She's also my boss and you think that would be awkward but SCW is the only place I've worked in where it's not stressful on a weekly basis.
So why am I here?
Good question. I'm not sure that really needs an answer beyond the rhetorical bullshit. Why does anyone come to a place like this?
Here we are— it's my fucking wedding anniversary and I feel like the worst person on the planet. Sending her flowers right now is unbelievably trite. Oh, sorry I somehow broke your ribs. Here's a bunch of fucking roses to make it all better. Not going to cut the proverbial mustard and I can't get a signal on my phone. Thanks a million, Verizon.
God Someone... whoever you are... grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and the control to keep from going postal. Probably not how that quote goes but it's been a long time. They want me to keep a journal. Told them I usually keep a blog so I guess this is the natural progression. Been here for less than a day and I'm ready to go insane. Cell service is shit up here and it's driving me insane without having that constant feed. Twitter. Texting. You don't realize how important those little messages are until you're spending even a few hours without them.
Welcome to Brad Jackson's journey to wellness— what a load of shit but that's what's on the brochure they gave me to read. My "journey to wellness" starts with a single step in the right direction... through the door into this place, no doubt. Really it started with opening my wallet, but that's not the sort of semantics you can win friends with by debating. I don't know if they're going to read this but I'm not about to get into the habit of self-censorship after this many years using truth as a weapon. Fuck that noise.
At this point I just want to be able to get back into the ring without running the risk of my heart exploding or killing someone in the process. The prospect of never returning to SCW... to wrestling in general scares the fuck out of me. I don't want to walk away and if I'm being honest, a lot of that is because I can't stomach the thought of leaving with my tail between my legs after being bested by a chick who looks like a Skinemax porn star. I need help and admitting that is gutting me. I'm scared. I'm in a ridiculous amount of pain and they won't even give me a goddamned Tylenol. Don't think I can do thirty days of this hell. Is that an admission of weakness? Who gives a shit. Nobody's gonna read this garbage.
It was shortly after one in the morning when he finally gave up on the prospect of sleep, blindly reaching for his phone out of sheer force of habit. It finally showed TWO WHOLE BARS of a signal and his heart lurched. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he dropped into his messaging inbox and saw the new text his wife had sent hours ago.
He didn't bother with a sloppy reply, instead holding his thumb over her picture until it started dialing her number. He expected the call to fail but it actually connected.
"Baby... hi, how're you?" The sound of her voice caught him off-guard, that warmth blindsiding him in the worst possible way. "Is everything okay?"
"H-hey," he had to clear his throat past the lump that had formed. Tears filled his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, overflowing when he closed them. "Cell service is spotty as fuck up here— goddamn mountains. Shoulda brought the satellite phone. Wasn't thinkin'..." he trailed off and then realized how late it actually was. "Shit. It's late.... head's a mess. I'm sorry I forgot what today was."
"It's okay," she said softly, "I forgot for most of the day. It's not a big deal, really."
"The hell it's not," he muttered, "it's our fucking second wedding anniversary, Lyv. It's not like it's National Steak and Blowjob Day, for fuck's sake."
"You remembered now." She sounded sad and tired and he wished he could just ooze through the phone line and materialize in that bed beside her.
"Remembered a few hours ago but I couldn't call. There's no phone in the room and fuckin' Verizon is garbage here. Keep roaming and dropping signal down to 3G or worse." He sighed, "but hey, didn't call to bitch about technology. You okay, baby?"
"I..." her voice caught.
"Of course you're not. Shit what'm I thinking? I'm not. Can barely focus and... shit. I shouldn't be calling you this late." He chuckled softly, feeling tears dripping into his ears although he didn't dare move for fear of losing the signal again. "Said that, didn't I? Christ... I'm sorry—"
Lyv let out a soft laugh that sounded so much like his that it was uncanny. "It's never too late for you, Jax; you know that."
"Can't sleep," Jackson's voice sounded rough to her ears, hoarser than usual. "Fuckin' exhausted but you think I can close my eyes?"
"You know all those containers of old clothes I had in the basement?" He heard the springs creaking and knew that she was rolling over towards his side. "I sorted through all of them. Came out with four bags for donation— you were right. I'm such a packrat."
He skipped right past what she said to the underlying subtext. "Can't shut down either, huh?"
"Nope," she said, wanting to hold onto him more than anything. She settled instead for resting her head on his pillow as she stroked her son's soft hair. "Christian's here beside me, passed out. Kinda envy that right now." She was silent for a moment, "I miss you... so much."
"Too many sounds in this room," he let out a sheepish chuckle, "bed doesn't creak like ours. I just... goddamn," his voice broke and he covered it with a soft cough. "I wanna come home, babe," he blurted the words, sounding like a homesick child.
"I know," she replied. And she understood completely. Part of her wanted to cave and beg him to come home but she knew that she'd just be handing him another free pass if she did that. The last thing he needed right now was an easy way out. "But you know you need this, Jax."
"Yeah... doesn't mean I have to like it. They've got me writing down my feelings in a fuckin' journal like—"
"Like some hipster blogger?" She laughed, finishing the sentence for him even though she felt like her heart was breaking.
"Was doin' it before it was cool," he grumbled. "But yeah. Don't like it here, Lyv. I just... this room smells weird."
"It looked nice enough when we dropped you off. We've stayed in seedier rooms on the road. Remember that mud festival?"
"Isle of Wight," he replied, rolling his eyes at the memory, "clusterfuck that it was. Way to bring up that loss to fuckin' Braveheart, babe."
"I... wasn't trying to."
"I know," Jackson's voice grew raspier, the tears starting to dry on his cheeks even though his eyes were still burning. Lifting his free hand up, he dug a knuckle into his right eye, letting out a sigh. "I was just givin' you hell. It's nice to hear your voice. Makes things feel a little more... y'know... normal and shit."
"I miss you, Jackson," she said it again, her voice soft.
"Miss you too and I love you so goddamn much."
"I know," and she did. She knew exactly how he felt— for once she could actually hear it in his voice. Maybe she was more attuned to it when there were no distractions but she could tell exactly what he was feeling. "It doesn't feel like home without you here."
He sighed again and then she heard the familiar snap of his lighter before a deep inhale— they were actually letting him smoke there? "Gonna be a long month if I'm runnin' on empty the whole time. Gonna be even longer if this piece of shit phone can't get—" the sound of garbled static came through to his ear, the background noise of the TV she had playing at low volume dissolving into digitized noise. "Lyv?" He pulled the phone away, glancing at the screen. The call was still connected but he'd dropped to one bar. "Shit... you still there?"
"...'m here... breaking up really bad." Her voice came through faintly.
"Just a sec," he moved slowly, crawling across the bed slowly, trying to get back to the signal he had. For a second it flickered to two. "C'mon," he urged it, creeping forward another half an inch— success! The signal rose to three and didn't drop again. He put the phone back to his ear. "There... that any better?"
"I can hear you again," the relief in her voice was palpable and it broke his heart all over again.
"This is shit." He groused, clutching the phone so tight his knuckles started to ache. "Sure... I need to dry out, right? I just..."
"What, Jax?" She gently prodded, "tell me what's on your mind, please?"
"You flushed the rest of it like I told you, right?" There was a scheme hatching in the back of his mind.
"As soon as I got home."
There was no judgement in her voice and for that he was infinitely grateful. He knew there had been a lot stockpiled from pills to a few baggies of nose candy— it was all gone now and for a second he felt a twinge of loss.
She was silent for a few moments before she spoke again. "Are you thinking—"
He cut her off. "I was but...."
"But? There's nothing here, Jax. I threw everything out that you told me about. If you want to come home—"
He held up his free hand, watching it shake. Already he could feel the greasy sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I want to more than anything, Lyv. I wanna hold you right now so bad," his voice broke.
"I can come get you." She sounded so earnest and hopeful.
"I don't think—"
"Don't think, Jax. It makes sense. What if you stayed at home, but still did the treatments? We could find someone in town you could go see or I could drive you there every day—"
"Two hours' worth of gas every day? Don't be ridiculous, Lyv. I just need to suck it up." Even as he contradicted her, it sounded so damned good. He could call Sabra and explain that it was easier to do it at home, without any strangers judging him.
"It would be better if you're here." She said it again, sounding firm. "I can make sure you're feeling okay— God, I didn't even ask you how you're feeling. How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright," he replied immediately.
"Your knees are okay?"
"Same as usual. Got a twinge in my back... didn't sleep worth a shit last night but you know that." He heard her sigh and then he heard the sound of the baby gurgling beside her. "He's awake?"
"I put you on speaker for a second so I could open this bottle of water," she replied softly, "he heard your voice— he says hello."
"Hey, Superman," his voice changed slightly, the smile evident to her ears. "Daddy misses you, champ." He heard the soft little sniffle and then a rattle before his wife's voice came back over the line.
"He's smiling," she sounded like she was crying.
"Nah. Probably just gas—"
"You need to come home," she sounded adamant now. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I talked you into this. I'm so sorry, baby. You were right. This is stupid— I'm being melodramatic and you're okay. It was just a mistake... a misunderstanding—"
"Lyv," he said her name sternly, cutting her off mid-ramble. "Don't do this, babe. It's hard enough without—"
"Come home, Jackson." She realized how selfish she sounded as a soft sob caught in her throat. "Goddamn it, now I sound like her, making ridiculous demands. That's not how I mean it... I just... it'd be better all the way around."
"Think that goes against their regime, babe— they wanna monitor everything. They can't make sure I'm not backsliding if I'm... y'know I'd do it in a second otherwise." The conversation, even the way he was speaking bordered on awkward.
"I'd monitor you though." She assured him, "I threw it all out. The house is clean and I'd be here and... a-and—"
"Babe..." his voice caught as he heard her trying not to break down. "We're adults. It's only thirty days. We should be able to do it—"
She wasn't able to let it go now that the seed hand been planted; she wanted him home so badly. "Maybe you could let me talk to them... the people there. I'll just tell them you'll recover better at home with me."
He chuckled softly, "it's funny— got deja vu really bad right now— remembering all those other times I was on the phone with a girl, playing the distance game, faking it with some bullshit lip service. And now... shit. I miss you, Lyv. Honestly. I know... you don't want me to compare this to them but everything seems to be going around and around, Lyv. Just couldn't see it before. Maybe this is how it feels like before the end—"
"Don't say that," she muttered through her sniffles. "This isn't the end of anything."
"Isn't it?" He exhaled slowly, "I'm fucked up, Lyv. Even if this thirty days gets me off the cocktail... what's left for me out there, huh? SCW's the only place that still wants me... how much of that's because of Sabra?"
"Bullshit!" She snapped the word and he could hear the vehemence in her tone, "there are thousands of companies out there who'd jump at the chance to have you on the roster, Jax. Maybe you can't see it, but people respect you. I see a hell of a lot more than you do when you've got that tunnel vision in the ring. You don't hear the way they talk about you backstage—"
"Wouldn't want to," he cut her off, feeling that old familiar anger creeping in. "I don't wanna argue about this—"
"Well good. Then it's settled— I'll just talk to the person in charge and we'll get you home. Put on a little of the ol' Jackson charm and I'll have them wrapped around my finger in no time." She knew he could hear her smiling through the phone. "And then when you're home, I'll make you a big ol' steak and draw a hot bath."
"There's a nice tub here," she heard him take another long inhale before he continued, "you'd like it. It's bigger than ours— deeper too. Could probably drown in it if I fell asleep in there."
"Or just share a bath with someone, as in me." She laughed a little and leaned back against the pillow. "Might have to sneak in to try it."
He was silent on the other end for so long that she actually had to check her phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped before there was a soft creak as he adjusted position on the bed.
"Jax, hey... you still there?" Frowning to herself, her voice grew softer, "did I say something wrong?"
"Hey," his voice came through so faintly she had to strain to hear him, "no... n-nothing wrong at all."
"Baby, talk to me... please?" He could hear the worry in her voice.
"You think Ellie'd watch him for a month? You think being away that long'd be bad for him? I mean, he's already on the bottle most of the time so..."
"Baby, what're you talking about?" She had a feeling she knew, but wanted to hear him say it.
"Pack a bag and get in the car," she could hear the ragged way he was breathing, his voice cracking on every other syllable and she knew he was so damned close to a meltdown it wasn't even funny. "Take Christian over to Ellie and Devon's. I need you here, Lyv. Need you so bad— I miss you a-and I can't do this alone."
Sitting up in bed, her eyes widened. "Are you saying you want me to come there, with you?" Her heartbeat picked up the pace. "Seriously, Jax?"
She heard him sniffle before softly clearing his throat. "Yeah, guess that's what I'm saying— not want, Lyv— need."
All joking aside, she was completely floored. "Are you serious?"
"Treat it like a vacation, babe—"
"Do you think they'd let me?"
"Haven't thrown around the celebrity clout in a while. Guess I'm due." He sounded so tired, "I'll make it happen, Lyv."
"Is it against the rules?" She had gotten out of bed, careful not to wake Christian now that he'd finally drifted off again. Already she was getting out a bag and was putting clothes into it. "I don't want you getting in trouble."
"I've got money," he mumbled around the fresh cigarette that was between his lips, "people know who I am. Probably can use that for leverage... I dunno. If not, I'll just slit my fuckin' wrist and tell them I plan to do it the right way next time if they won't let me have you with me."
She flinched at the suggestion of suicide. "What about Christian? Should I bring him too?"
"I don't know," he cleared his throat again, "depends if you wanna have him see this side of me, I guess."
"I'll call Ellie. I'm sure she won't mind. If nothing else, we'll just have her keep him 'til the weekend." She had no doubt that she needed to be with Jax— the broken quality of his voice made her ache to hold and comfort him. Besides, the longest they'd been apart since they started dating was two days right before Christian was born— she'd gone into labor two days early thanks to how bad that had been. "Baby, I'll be there as soon as I can— okay? I promise you that."
There was silence for a few seconds before she heard his voice again. "Thank you," he said softly, surprising her with how sincere he sounded, "I know I was a dick about doing this on my own before I left. I guess I was still kinda pissed that you and Natasha railroaded me into this," he chuckled bitterly. "I shoulda asked you then."
"Jax... baby, I'd go anywhere you asked me to." She'd set the bag by the bedroom doorway and had walked back to the bed. Leaning over, she started to pick up Christian. "I'm your wife. Kinda means in this with you... to hell and back—"
"Well, hopefully it doesn't come to that—"
"—all the way in. No matter where or what or how." She finished as if he hadn't cut her off.
Normally he'd make some suggestive joke at her saying that she was 'all the way in'— the fact that he didn't even seem to register that opportunity was more telling than that long pauses and the sniffling. "Hey, babe? Don't tell Ellie why I'm here, okay? Just tell her... I dunno. Say I'm hurt. Make somethin' up, okay?"
"What... why?"
"I don't want her to know about this. Her mom... her real one... she died of an overdose, remember? Last thing I wanna do is tell her that her dad's a fuckin' addict too."
"I won't say anything, Jax— to anyone. But you know she wouldn't look at you any differently, right? She loves you so much."
"Love's not what matters," his voice was hollow when he replied, "I don't want her worrying... I don't want her fuckin' pity and I sure as shit don't want to lose the respect of the only ones who matter—"
"Jax." She sounded so sad, "you're never going to lose my respect. You could lose a thousand matches and a million belts and that wouldn't change how I feel about you."
He was quiet for so long that he knew she was probably going to be checking the phone again to make sure the call was still connected. His lips moved but no sound came out. Finally, he forced a dry cough. "Love you more than anything," that catch was back in his voice even though he was trying really hard to hide it. "Drive safe, okay?"
"I will...promise." She was smiling; he could hear it. "I'll see you soon."
"Not if I see you first," the words came out automatically before he ended the call, letting his hand drop away from his ear. His chest was tight as he stared up at the ceiling, watching the light fixture double and then treble. Sitting up slowly, he started running the possible conversations in his head, knowing he had at least an hour and a half to smooth over her arrival. Should be as big of a trainwreck as everything else had been thus far...
February 15, 2014 || Reno (off camera)
It was shortly after one in the morning when he finally gave up on the prospect of sleep, blindly reaching for his phone out of sheer force of habit. It finally showed TWO WHOLE BARS of a signal and his heart lurched. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he dropped into his messaging inbox and saw the new text his wife had sent hours ago.
He didn't bother with a sloppy reply, instead holding his thumb over her picture until it started dialing her number. He expected the call to fail but it actually connected.
"Baby... hi, how're you?" The sound of her voice caught him off-guard, that warmth blindsiding him in the worst possible way. "Is everything okay?"
"H-hey," he had to clear his throat past the lump that had formed. Tears filled his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, overflowing when he closed them. "Cell service is spotty as fuck up here— goddamn mountains. Shoulda brought the satellite phone. Wasn't thinkin'..." he trailed off and then realized how late it actually was. "Shit. It's late.... head's a mess. I'm sorry I forgot what today was."
"It's okay," she said softly, "I forgot for most of the day. It's not a big deal, really."
"The hell it's not," he muttered, "it's our fucking second wedding anniversary, Lyv. It's not like it's National Steak and Blowjob Day, for fuck's sake."
"You remembered now." She sounded sad and tired and he wished he could just ooze through the phone line and materialize in that bed beside her.
"Remembered a few hours ago but I couldn't call. There's no phone in the room and fuckin' Verizon is garbage here. Keep roaming and dropping signal down to 3G or worse." He sighed, "but hey, didn't call to bitch about technology. You okay, baby?"
"I..." her voice caught.
"Of course you're not. Shit what'm I thinking? I'm not. Can barely focus and... shit. I shouldn't be calling you this late." He chuckled softly, feeling tears dripping into his ears although he didn't dare move for fear of losing the signal again. "Said that, didn't I? Christ... I'm sorry—"
Lyv let out a soft laugh that sounded so much like his that it was uncanny. "It's never too late for you, Jax; you know that."
"Can't sleep," Jackson's voice sounded rough to her ears, hoarser than usual. "Fuckin' exhausted but you think I can close my eyes?"
"You know all those containers of old clothes I had in the basement?" He heard the springs creaking and knew that she was rolling over towards his side. "I sorted through all of them. Came out with four bags for donation— you were right. I'm such a packrat."
He skipped right past what she said to the underlying subtext. "Can't shut down either, huh?"
"Nope," she said, wanting to hold onto him more than anything. She settled instead for resting her head on his pillow as she stroked her son's soft hair. "Christian's here beside me, passed out. Kinda envy that right now." She was silent for a moment, "I miss you... so much."
"Too many sounds in this room," he let out a sheepish chuckle, "bed doesn't creak like ours. I just... goddamn," his voice broke and he covered it with a soft cough. "I wanna come home, babe," he blurted the words, sounding like a homesick child.
"I know," she replied. And she understood completely. Part of her wanted to cave and beg him to come home but she knew that she'd just be handing him another free pass if she did that. The last thing he needed right now was an easy way out. "But you know you need this, Jax."
"Yeah... doesn't mean I have to like it. They've got me writing down my feelings in a fuckin' journal like—"
"Like some hipster blogger?" She laughed, finishing the sentence for him even though she felt like her heart was breaking.
"Was doin' it before it was cool," he grumbled. "But yeah. Don't like it here, Lyv. I just... this room smells weird."
"It looked nice enough when we dropped you off. We've stayed in seedier rooms on the road. Remember that mud festival?"
"Isle of Wight," he replied, rolling his eyes at the memory, "clusterfuck that it was. Way to bring up that loss to fuckin' Braveheart, babe."
"I... wasn't trying to."
"I know," Jackson's voice grew raspier, the tears starting to dry on his cheeks even though his eyes were still burning. Lifting his free hand up, he dug a knuckle into his right eye, letting out a sigh. "I was just givin' you hell. It's nice to hear your voice. Makes things feel a little more... y'know... normal and shit."
"I miss you, Jackson," she said it again, her voice soft.
"Miss you too and I love you so goddamn much."
"I know," and she did. She knew exactly how he felt— for once she could actually hear it in his voice. Maybe she was more attuned to it when there were no distractions but she could tell exactly what he was feeling. "It doesn't feel like home without you here."
He sighed again and then she heard the familiar snap of his lighter before a deep inhale— they were actually letting him smoke there? "Gonna be a long month if I'm runnin' on empty the whole time. Gonna be even longer if this piece of shit phone can't get—" the sound of garbled static came through to his ear, the background noise of the TV she had playing at low volume dissolving into digitized noise. "Lyv?" He pulled the phone away, glancing at the screen. The call was still connected but he'd dropped to one bar. "Shit... you still there?"
"...'m here... breaking up really bad." Her voice came through faintly.
"Just a sec," he moved slowly, crawling across the bed slowly, trying to get back to the signal he had. For a second it flickered to two. "C'mon," he urged it, creeping forward another half an inch— success! The signal rose to three and didn't drop again. He put the phone back to his ear. "There... that any better?"
"I can hear you again," the relief in her voice was palpable and it broke his heart all over again.
"This is shit." He groused, clutching the phone so tight his knuckles started to ache. "Sure... I need to dry out, right? I just..."
"What, Jax?" She gently prodded, "tell me what's on your mind, please?"
"You flushed the rest of it like I told you, right?" There was a scheme hatching in the back of his mind.
"As soon as I got home."
There was no judgement in her voice and for that he was infinitely grateful. He knew there had been a lot stockpiled from pills to a few baggies of nose candy— it was all gone now and for a second he felt a twinge of loss.
She was silent for a few moments before she spoke again. "Are you thinking—"
He cut her off. "I was but...."
"But? There's nothing here, Jax. I threw everything out that you told me about. If you want to come home—"
He held up his free hand, watching it shake. Already he could feel the greasy sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I want to more than anything, Lyv. I wanna hold you right now so bad," his voice broke.
"I can come get you." She sounded so earnest and hopeful.
"I don't think—"
"Don't think, Jax. It makes sense. What if you stayed at home, but still did the treatments? We could find someone in town you could go see or I could drive you there every day—"
"Two hours' worth of gas every day? Don't be ridiculous, Lyv. I just need to suck it up." Even as he contradicted her, it sounded so damned good. He could call Sabra and explain that it was easier to do it at home, without any strangers judging him.
"It would be better if you're here." She said it again, sounding firm. "I can make sure you're feeling okay— God, I didn't even ask you how you're feeling. How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright," he replied immediately.
"Your knees are okay?"
"Same as usual. Got a twinge in my back... didn't sleep worth a shit last night but you know that." He heard her sigh and then he heard the sound of the baby gurgling beside her. "He's awake?"
"I put you on speaker for a second so I could open this bottle of water," she replied softly, "he heard your voice— he says hello."
"Hey, Superman," his voice changed slightly, the smile evident to her ears. "Daddy misses you, champ." He heard the soft little sniffle and then a rattle before his wife's voice came back over the line.
"He's smiling," she sounded like she was crying.
"Nah. Probably just gas—"
"You need to come home," she sounded adamant now. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I talked you into this. I'm so sorry, baby. You were right. This is stupid— I'm being melodramatic and you're okay. It was just a mistake... a misunderstanding—"
"Lyv," he said her name sternly, cutting her off mid-ramble. "Don't do this, babe. It's hard enough without—"
"Come home, Jackson." She realized how selfish she sounded as a soft sob caught in her throat. "Goddamn it, now I sound like her, making ridiculous demands. That's not how I mean it... I just... it'd be better all the way around."
"Think that goes against their regime, babe— they wanna monitor everything. They can't make sure I'm not backsliding if I'm... y'know I'd do it in a second otherwise." The conversation, even the way he was speaking bordered on awkward.
"I'd monitor you though." She assured him, "I threw it all out. The house is clean and I'd be here and... a-and—"
"Babe..." his voice caught as he heard her trying not to break down. "We're adults. It's only thirty days. We should be able to do it—"
She wasn't able to let it go now that the seed hand been planted; she wanted him home so badly. "Maybe you could let me talk to them... the people there. I'll just tell them you'll recover better at home with me."
He chuckled softly, "it's funny— got deja vu really bad right now— remembering all those other times I was on the phone with a girl, playing the distance game, faking it with some bullshit lip service. And now... shit. I miss you, Lyv. Honestly. I know... you don't want me to compare this to them but everything seems to be going around and around, Lyv. Just couldn't see it before. Maybe this is how it feels like before the end—"
"Don't say that," she muttered through her sniffles. "This isn't the end of anything."
"Isn't it?" He exhaled slowly, "I'm fucked up, Lyv. Even if this thirty days gets me off the cocktail... what's left for me out there, huh? SCW's the only place that still wants me... how much of that's because of Sabra?"
"Bullshit!" She snapped the word and he could hear the vehemence in her tone, "there are thousands of companies out there who'd jump at the chance to have you on the roster, Jax. Maybe you can't see it, but people respect you. I see a hell of a lot more than you do when you've got that tunnel vision in the ring. You don't hear the way they talk about you backstage—"
"Wouldn't want to," he cut her off, feeling that old familiar anger creeping in. "I don't wanna argue about this—"
"Well good. Then it's settled— I'll just talk to the person in charge and we'll get you home. Put on a little of the ol' Jackson charm and I'll have them wrapped around my finger in no time." She knew he could hear her smiling through the phone. "And then when you're home, I'll make you a big ol' steak and draw a hot bath."
"There's a nice tub here," she heard him take another long inhale before he continued, "you'd like it. It's bigger than ours— deeper too. Could probably drown in it if I fell asleep in there."
"Or just share a bath with someone, as in me." She laughed a little and leaned back against the pillow. "Might have to sneak in to try it."
He was silent on the other end for so long that she actually had to check her phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped before there was a soft creak as he adjusted position on the bed.
"Jax, hey... you still there?" Frowning to herself, her voice grew softer, "did I say something wrong?"
"Hey," his voice came through so faintly she had to strain to hear him, "no... n-nothing wrong at all."
"Baby, talk to me... please?" He could hear the worry in her voice.
"You think Ellie'd watch him for a month? You think being away that long'd be bad for him? I mean, he's already on the bottle most of the time so..."
"Baby, what're you talking about?" She had a feeling she knew, but wanted to hear him say it.
"Pack a bag and get in the car," she could hear the ragged way he was breathing, his voice cracking on every other syllable and she knew he was so damned close to a meltdown it wasn't even funny. "Take Christian over to Ellie and Devon's. I need you here, Lyv. Need you so bad— I miss you a-and I can't do this alone."
Sitting up in bed, her eyes widened. "Are you saying you want me to come there, with you?" Her heartbeat picked up the pace. "Seriously, Jax?"
She heard him sniffle before softly clearing his throat. "Yeah, guess that's what I'm saying— not want, Lyv— need."
All joking aside, she was completely floored. "Are you serious?"
"Treat it like a vacation, babe—"
"Do you think they'd let me?"
"Haven't thrown around the celebrity clout in a while. Guess I'm due." He sounded so tired, "I'll make it happen, Lyv."
"Is it against the rules?" She had gotten out of bed, careful not to wake Christian now that he'd finally drifted off again. Already she was getting out a bag and was putting clothes into it. "I don't want you getting in trouble."
"I've got money," he mumbled around the fresh cigarette that was between his lips, "people know who I am. Probably can use that for leverage... I dunno. If not, I'll just slit my fuckin' wrist and tell them I plan to do it the right way next time if they won't let me have you with me."
She flinched at the suggestion of suicide. "What about Christian? Should I bring him too?"
"I don't know," he cleared his throat again, "depends if you wanna have him see this side of me, I guess."
"I'll call Ellie. I'm sure she won't mind. If nothing else, we'll just have her keep him 'til the weekend." She had no doubt that she needed to be with Jax— the broken quality of his voice made her ache to hold and comfort him. Besides, the longest they'd been apart since they started dating was two days right before Christian was born— she'd gone into labor two days early thanks to how bad that had been. "Baby, I'll be there as soon as I can— okay? I promise you that."
There was silence for a few seconds before she heard his voice again. "Thank you," he said softly, surprising her with how sincere he sounded, "I know I was a dick about doing this on my own before I left. I guess I was still kinda pissed that you and Natasha railroaded me into this," he chuckled bitterly. "I shoulda asked you then."
"Jax... baby, I'd go anywhere you asked me to." She'd set the bag by the bedroom doorway and had walked back to the bed. Leaning over, she started to pick up Christian. "I'm your wife. Kinda means in this with you... to hell and back—"
"Well, hopefully it doesn't come to that—"
"—all the way in. No matter where or what or how." She finished as if he hadn't cut her off.
Normally he'd make some suggestive joke at her saying that she was 'all the way in'— the fact that he didn't even seem to register that opportunity was more telling than that long pauses and the sniffling. "Hey, babe? Don't tell Ellie why I'm here, okay? Just tell her... I dunno. Say I'm hurt. Make somethin' up, okay?"
"What... why?"
"I don't want her to know about this. Her mom... her real one... she died of an overdose, remember? Last thing I wanna do is tell her that her dad's a fuckin' addict too."
"I won't say anything, Jax— to anyone. But you know she wouldn't look at you any differently, right? She loves you so much."
"Love's not what matters," his voice was hollow when he replied, "I don't want her worrying... I don't want her fuckin' pity and I sure as shit don't want to lose the respect of the only ones who matter—"
"Jax." She sounded so sad, "you're never going to lose my respect. You could lose a thousand matches and a million belts and that wouldn't change how I feel about you."
He was quiet for so long that he knew she was probably going to be checking the phone again to make sure the call was still connected. His lips moved but no sound came out. Finally, he forced a dry cough. "Love you more than anything," that catch was back in his voice even though he was trying really hard to hide it. "Drive safe, okay?"
"I will...promise." She was smiling; he could hear it. "I'll see you soon."
"Not if I see you first," the words came out automatically before he ended the call, letting his hand drop away from his ear. His chest was tight as he stared up at the ceiling, watching the light fixture double and then treble. Sitting up slowly, he started running the possible conversations in his head, knowing he had at least an hour and a half to smooth over her arrival. Should be as big of a trainwreck as everything else had been thus far...
