020: Fall Out Boy

After the house had become nothing more than a smoking pile of ashes, Rick and Kayla left the property with no plans of returning. Their next planned destination was Holly Springs, Mississippi, as there was family business on Kayla's end to conduct. Rick had assured her that he could make the three-hour drive no problem, but after a little over an hour on the road, he'd started to flag – everything was catching up to him and he couldn't focus. Just west of Memphis, they found themselves a Comfort Inn that had reasonable reviews and was actually still open. Even in a time of crisis, Rick couldn't bring himself to stop being fussy.

The ride to the hotel was a quiet one; they were both exhausted and playing over the events from earlier. For Kayla, watching the Phelps' house burn had removed a ten-year-old weight from her shoulders. The invisible shackles that had kept her chained to that basement were removed, freeing her from ever having to be stuck again. A few times she'd looked over at Rick, but he seemed almost intensely focused on the drive.

He hadn't spoken in hours. The last thing he'd said aloud, to her, had been his assurance that he'd handle the upstairs of the house. He'd spent time smashing windows and the few pieces of furniture that were left, making sure the fire had adequate fuel so the place would be consumed. When the inferno was raging its hottest, he'd stripped off the sweatshirt he had on and tossed it into the blaze. It hadn't mattered, though. He still felt dirty.

When they made it to the hotel room, there was a queen-sized bed that had recently been turned down. Once their belongings had been set down, Kayla had suggested they take a long shower together, but Rick had refused. He'd expected her to push back, surprised when she left him to it. She knew he was exhausted. She could tell by the way he was moving, as if every muscle had been strained – he was probably going to be in a world of hurt come morning. It was on the tip of her tongue to thank him again, but it almost felt like the words were wearing thin. What he'd done for her was much more than he'd ever know – much more than simple words could explain. After about an hour, he finally emerged from the bathroom and Kayla wasted no time in going in and running herself a shower.

There wasn't anything special about the shower in the hotel room, but for Kayla it had to be the best shower she'd ever had. In addition to the physical dirt being washed away, there was also the dirt from the past that had been clinging to her for so long. With each scrub of her soapy loofah sponge and rinse of water, she could feel that decade old dirt washing away. Once her skin was clean and her hair was freshly washed, she emerged from the shower and secured a towel around her body and one on her head. It was after midnight now, a fresh month and she couldn't help but feel that sense of renewal.

Her hand came up and wiped away the cloudiness from the mirror. As she looked at her reflection, it was almost as if she was seeing herself for the first time. A hand came back and ran over the scars on her back as it had done thousands of times, but this time was different – there wasn't any disgust. They had always been a reminder of her personal Hell, something she'd never escape from. This time, however, knowing that she would never be able to go back to that basement, her scars symbolized so much more: she was a survivor. The scars on her back and the one on her side was proof of that.

Smiling to herself, Kayla finished drying off and changed into a pair of light pink underwear and a black T-shirt that was Rick's, but that she had claimed. Her blonde hair was brushed back and her skin was lathered with lavender lotion. Once she was done and her teeth were brushed, Kayla emerged from the bathroom and saw her husband laying on the bed. "That had to be the best shower I've ever taken." Stretching out her arms above her head, she felt the tension melt away. With a contented sigh, she dropped them and walked over to the bed. "And now all I want is to relax with my wonderful husband." She'd gotten into the bed and snuggled up next to him, turning onto her side. "Psst, that's you." Her lips were right next to his ear as her hand rested on his chest.

Rick had spent an hour under that blessedly hot water trying to wash away a stain that he hadn't realized was still there – the smell of the fire had brought it all rushing back to the surface. He felt raw, strangely exposed even though he was wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of ugly plaid pajama pants. A part of his brain registered that she was talking to him, that she was trying to reach out and make a connection over what they'd just done but he couldn't find the words to properly respond. He was seeing those walls crumbling in on themselves, seeing the savage beauty of the fire as it ate up that damaged frame. It was only a matter of time before the place had fallen in on itself – they'd simply helped it along. He wasn't worried about legal repercussions. Through a shell company that wasn't directly tied to his name, he owned the land. It would be razed properly in the coming months and something better would eventually stand in its place. If anyone had seen them, had spied on their arsonist Bonnie and Clyde outing, he'd deal with it. He wasn't worried about any logistics. With enough money in the bank, he wasn't really concerned.

He was stuck in the past, stalled on a what-if that exposed his own cowardice. It had been more than twenty years that he'd apparently been in denial. All this time, he'd held fast the belief that he'd done things the right way. He hadn't been able to bring himself to watch Raven's Roost burn to the ground – he'd told himself that it was about plausible deniability at the time, that it was all about establishing an airtight alibi. He'd been a damned Ravenswood then, too much like his parents – it was all about the image. About keeping himself squeaky-clean and above reproach. Now he ached to have that definitive closure that he'd just helped Kayla get.

After a moment, he realized the room was too quiet. He hadn't actually said anything and since his eyes were open and he was staring blankly at the ceiling, it wasn't as though he could feign being asleep. Closing his eyes for a moment, he pulled in a slow breath through his nose as his teeth dug into his lip. He'd heard what she said. He'd always been able to do that, even if he wasn't directly focusing on the person talking – it made him quite successful in business, after all. "Relaxing, yes." The corner of his mouth twitched towards a wry smile as he turned his head to look at her. "After today's..." he hesitated, trying to find the right word, "events? Yes. I think that's a wise choice."

She had placed a kiss on his cheek and then nuzzled her nose against his neck. "I feel different. Almost like the person I used to be before the Phelps." Usually she referred to them as the Pastor and his wife, their last name didn't feel stuck in her throat.

He wasn't quite sure what that meant and that little worm of doubt wiggled its way into the back of his mind. He'd given her freedom, after all. The next logical step would be rebirth from the ashes – she could go anywhere now, be anything she wanted to be. Forcing himself to move, he rolled over so that he was facing her, keeping his gaze locked on her. He thought he was keeping his expression neutral but there was such infinite sadness in his dark eyes. He was already mourning something that hadn't come to pass.

Oblivious, Kayla smiled warmly. "I'm so glad you suggested this." Leaning in, she kissed his cheek again. "Thank you."

"Mmhmm," he made the sound in the back of his throat. "No thanks needed. Remember?" He chuckled softly, lifting his hand to gently pat her cheek. "I'm glad you feel better. I suppose the true test will be later tonight, though. See if those pesky demons really were purged by fire or if they were just lying in wait until you finally let your guard down." The words were strange, as if he was talking about something else entirely.

What he said struck a chord with her, but she wasn't sure why. "Honestly, I think tonight is going to be uneventful." She sat up, her hair resting damply at her shoulders. "Unless you want to make it eventful." She gave him a smile with a raised eyebrow. "If y'know what I mean."

"Are you trying to seduce me?" He feigned shock, quick to slip into that charming tease but there was a strange sort of stiffness to it. "Hmm, I suppose I can clear my schedule for a few hours of bliss."

Kayla noticed the stiffness as she studied him for a few moments. "You okay?" She'd lost that flirty playfulness, concern coming through.

Rick nodded. "Physically? Of course. We managed to avoid any serious..." he trailed off, realizing she wasn't asking that at all. It was surprising that she could see right through his facade and he resisted the urge to curse himself for being that transparent. She had earned the right to be close enough, had proved her loyalty time and time again. "I..." he paused, clearing his throat, "I suppose it's all weighing on my mind more than I care to admit." He sounded almost ashamed as he broke eye contact, heaving a sigh. He needed to create a little distance, give himself that illusion of privacy even though he'd already torn it to shreds by letting her into every corner of his universe. He got out of bed, crossing the room to the chair in the corner and then he picked up the pack of cigarettes, slipping one between his lips without thinking. He didn't care that the property was non-smoking, wasn't even thinking about abiding by the rules.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" Kayla sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them – she wanted to go over and hug him but there was something in his body language that made her think that might be disastrous.

He sparked his lighter, staring at the flame for a few seconds before bringing it to the tip of his cigarette. The only light in the room were the twin lamps on either side of the bed. He'd shut off the main light while she'd been in the shower, mostly because his eyes were aching from all the smoke and debris. The orange glow illuminated his features, making the shadows more apparent – he looked drained, exhausted right down to the bone. A long inhale made the cherry glow bright red and the exhale was a sigh and a cloud of smoke. He got up and went over to the window, cracking it open before returning to his perch on the edge of that uncomfortable chair. "Whatever I'm feeling right now is wholly irrelevant-"

"Not to me it isn't."

A wan smile was there for a moment on his lips before he took another drag. "It's not about me, though. This was for you. To fix damage done – I have no right to feel anything other than relief. Joy, perhaps." There was something in his tone, a sort of loathing that she'd never heard before.

"Rick..." she scooted forward on the bed, as if she needed to feel just a little closer to him and she shivered as the breeze blew in from outside. The day had been mild, almost hinting at spring but now it felt like winter was back – it didn't help that he seemed almost to be pulling away from her. She didn't know what else to say to bridge that distance she felt yawning between them.

"Kayla." He said her name softly, "I'm glad you got the closure you needed. I'm not lying when I say that. I am truly happy that my ridiculous idea actually worked."

"You don't sound happy." It wasn't an accusation. She was simply stating a fact and as she watched him now, watched his expression as he stared off into nothing, she realized what was going on.

He sighed. "I don't feel much of anything right now, I'm afraid."

"It goes without saying how much what you've done for me means." She scooted further forward so she was sitting on the end of the bed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clasped between them. "You did all of this... for me. Without a single thought for what it might do to you in the process."

"I didn't-"

"Shh," she admonished, "let me finish. I can tell by the look on your face that I'm right. Everything we did today... it brought up your own demons, didn't it?"

"In a manner of speaking," he nodded, shivering as a chill of foreboding crept down his spine. He dropped the remains of the cigarette into the empty can of ginger ale on the table and mirrored her posture. "At the time, I thought it was best not to be seen. I was afraid of being caught, of course. Deep down, I knew, though... I knew if I'd lingered to see it play out, I wouldn't have had the guts to actually go through with it. I would have called the fire brigade. I'd have dashed in there to put out the blaze with my own hands." His tone was bitter and, in that moment, he ached for something to numb all he was feeling. It was the first time since he'd dried out in Reno that he'd had a craving and now it was like an itch in the back of his mind that he couldn't scratch.

"You can't know that for sure," she tried to reason with him but he wasn't having any of it.

"I do. I know who I am, Kayla. I've always known and I just didn't want to see it – I've become just like them. I surround myself with things, with wealth as though it can be a safety net. What we did today is a prime example. I bought that land before I even told you I'd looked into it. I threw money at the problem-"

"Rick... stop. Just stop for a second and listen to me, okay? Can you do that?"

He nodded, biting his lip to keep the bitter spiel contained.

"Good. Then come back over here," she patted the bed for emphasis.

Reluctantly, he did as she asked. He sat down next to her, bowing his head. He was tense, breathing shallowly as if he was about to have some catastrophic meltdown. She touched his shoulder, feeling that tension and then her hands were cupping his cheeks, turning his head to force him to look her in the eye.

"I don't care about the money. You protected us – protected me – from doing something illegal and that doesn't make you anything like them, Rick." She had no idea if that was true but it felt right in her heart. "I care about you, okay? I care about what's going on in that head of yours."

"What you did today..." he shifted, lifting his free hand to touch her cheek. "I'm in awe – just a little envious, even. When you marched right down there and torched that filthy, vile room..." he shook his head. "I realized I robbed myself of that catharsis. Watching it burn... God... that was something else. I can't even begin to imagine all you felt while we stood vigil."

At hearing his confession, Kayla hugged onto him, needing to be as close as possible. "The only reason I had the strength to do that was because of you." She pulled back just enough so that she could look him in the eye. "You are my strength and without you, I never would have been able to go back there." Her hand had rested on the back of his neck so that she could play with his hair. "You've saved me in more ways than you will ever know."

He wanted to deny everything she'd said. There was no way he could be responsible for what she'd done today. That sort of bravery and strength wasn't something that could be passed on or bolstered by someone as weak and powerless as Rick felt he was. "I..." there was a catch in his voice for a moment and he shook his head, trying again. "I don't really know what to say to that. A part of me wants to deny it at the top of my lungs. I didn't do anything except provide the means – your safety net, I suppose. You were the one doing all the work. You were the one up there on that high wire, doing what I wish I could've done all those years ago."

"And you were the one there to hold my hand and go into that hell with me." Her heart ached at how much she loved him. He was her soulmate and she would spend the rest of her days proving it to him. He tried to suppress a yawn and she shook her head, chiding him, "c'mon. Get back in bed with me."

He did as she suggested, settling back in under the covers. "I'm sor-"

"Nope." She put a finger to his lips, looking down at him with a sad smile. "No apologies, remember?"

He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips when she threw his words back at him. "Of course."

"No matter what you think, I need you to know one thing, okay?"

"Tell me." His dark eyes were pleading with her to say something to make the demons just shut up.

Sitting up, she looked down at him as her hand grabbed onto his. "You make me stronger just by loving me. You are a good man who's made me better because you love me."

"I'll never stop." The words came out softly, his fingers interlocking with hers. "Promise you that, right through my very last breath. If that's what I've done..." his smile was almost bittersweet, "I'm glad. You make me feel as if I actually matter. I suppose that's what's bothering me the most. I spent so much time believing the opposite. It's a hard habit to break."

"You'll get used to it and I'll help you." Exhaling and still holding onto his hand, Kayla slid down so that she was laying next to him, pushing him over onto his back. She rested her head on his chest, the familiar sound of his steady heartbeat almost as soothing as his hand running through her hair and down her back. The day had been emotionally draining, apparently for both of them, but she knew deep down that as long as they had each other, they could make it through anything.

"I do love you," Rick murmured, already sounding as though he was close to drifting off, "so much."

"I know you do." The words came out soft, so low he probably didn't hear. She lay there for a while, listening to the steady sound of him breathing, taking comfort in the fact that he was here. He'd given her the thing she'd always needed, the thing she'd never thought she'd get: closure. Maybe she could help him find the same thing.

As she started to drift off to sleep, there were no fears or worries she'd wake up in the middle of the night with a nightmare-induced panic attack. For the first time in forever, she felt at peace. She felt, deep down, that things would be okay. For once, the future held nothing but promise.