Jackie didn’t remember showing up at his door, or anything that had tumbled from her lips. How much did he know? And did he, would he, think less of her after she carefully laid out the story? Groaning, the woman pulled herself from the bathroom floor, her stomach wrenching into more and more knots as her head throbbed. She shouldn’t have drank so much. She shouldn’t have taken pills on top of it — But, she needed the high, that escape, that would put her out of her mind.
“Like shit,” came her response, as she reached for the Advil resting on the counter. Quickly, she downed the pills with a giant gulp of water. “Any chance you have a spare toothbrush laying around?” As many times as she’d ended up at his apartment, she should have had one. But, that meant something. Even leaving a toothbrush, meant something. But, as much as Jackie wanted to deny her feelings for the man, they were there, unavoidable and increasingly obvious.
She opted for the mouthwash, pouring a swallow into her mouth, the mint stinging her tongue as she swished it around. Spitting it out, she brought the back of her hand to wipe across her mouth. “Okay, but I am sorry. You don’t deserve to have to deal with my shit. Especially not this shit,” her voice rose, shaking as her mind tortured her with the night’s events, replaying them in what felt like slow motion until she visibly tried to shrug away the memories. She moved toward Derek, two steps closing the distance between them, bringing her forehead to rest against his chest. “I shot someone last night, Derek. I killed them.” Tears smarted her eyes, and she clinched them shut. “God, I fucked up.”
“Here,” He replied as he went into the medicine cabinet to grab an extra toothbrush that was definitely not for her. His first instinct was to tell her that things like this happen all the time, but do they? He wanted to tell her that this is what he signed up for her when they had this unspeakable almost relationship between them but that’d probably just push her away.
“Hey,” He wanted to stop her thoughts before she spiraled some more. Honestly, he did deserve to deal with her shit, especially after the mistakes he had made in this life. “It’s going to be okay,” He tried to sound as reassuring as possible. “Your shit is my shit, alright?” He knew she’d do the same for him.
Derek put his arms around her as she touched his chest with her head. He just wanted to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright. He wasn’t the best at comforting, not by any means but for her, he’d try to do anything. “Look at me,” He insisted, hoping she would do so, “We all fuck up. It’s okay.” He didn’t think any less of her, no fucking way. And he’d let her cry for as long as she needed to. “Tell me what you need me to do.” Whatever it was, he’d be there for her. “Did you take care of the body? Or do you need me to do that?” He wanted to make sure her tracks were covered. There was no way in hell he’d let her go down for something. Not in this lifetime.