MAKE IT SHINE.

almost immediately, he’s not sure if he can do this.  his hands are still on the bag, because yeah it’s all in there but it’s not out of reach yet, and he hates every part of him that want to open it up and retrieve the drinks inside, because his hands are shaking and he’s not strong enough to do this he’s not he’s not he’s not -

and then jade’s hands come to a rest over his, and his eyes slam shut, because he knows now more than ever that he does not fucking deserve her.  no one in the world deserves jade west, but beck least of all.  and she kisses him, sweet and gentle, and he’s sure he tastes like trash, but he kisses back, and one of his hands comes up from the bag to rest on her shoulder, move to her neck, thumb pressed against her jaw and he’s not sure which one of them is crying but he knows this is fucking real, and he knows there isn’t a damn thing he can do about it.

❝here, here, wait -❞ he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, pulls out all the cash and cards, pushes them clumsily into her hands.  ❝i don’t - i can’t trust myself yet.  you can’t either, okay? it doesn’t matter what i say, you shouldn’t - you shouldn’t trust me.❞ it’s probably the first honest thing he’s said in a long, long time.  ❝not for a while.❞

       he tastes like booze and sleep, but she doesn’t mind, because he’s still hers. she’s crying; and she thinks he is too, but his thumb is against her jaw and something about her feels better, safer, now that she’s kissed him and she thinks maybe they can work things out. soon, he’s shoving wallet into her hands, entrusting her with his cards and his cash, and she knows he means it. she swallows hard when he warns her not to trust him, because something seems to be telling her that he might end up very convincing.

      “okay. so i won’t trust you.” her hands cup his face and she puts the wallet in her pajama pocket, “but i will still love you. can i look at you now? you were bleeding last night, and i just want to make sure you’re going to be okay, beck.” her hands caress his cheeks, gently skimming his hair already, because she does tend to fret. she chokes just slightly, on more tears, because he’s still broken, and she knows it is going to take a lot of time to fix him.

he doesn’t know what it is that pushes him.  it could be confirmation, or the fact that she’s known and didn’t tell him because he was out being an asshole, or the hesitation she holds, even now.  but it’s probably the purple, stark against her skin, that he knows he caused, because he was drunk last night, but not so drunk that he doesn’t remember everything.  and it’s like he snaps.  he’s out of bed and moving around her like a man on a mission which, to be fair, he basically is.  

he hits the kitchen, pulls the trash can out from under the sink and pulls open the fridge.  he doesn’t toss, because he’s not a madman and broken glass won’t exactly be his friend right now, but it’s a close thing.  there’s more bottles than he’s entirely comfortable with, seeing them in the light of day, and the noises they make hitting together make his head feel like it’s going to explode, and a part of him is screaming to stop, because he needs this, he needs it he needs it he needs it.  except the rest of him, the rational not-a-fuck-up part, has realized that more than that, he needs jade.  desperately.

he hits the liquor shelf next, where they keep the hard stuff, and it’s not like those bottles were very fully anyway, because beck’s been steadily trying to drink himself into a coma.  and by the time he’s done, he’s practically gasping for air, face a mess of pain, head pounding, and his hands trembling just a little.  the irrational asshole part of his brain that he wants gone says a drink would calm those nerves.  somehow his willpower has him tying up the trash bag with shaking fingers, and at some point his knees give out a little and he ends up crouched on the kitchen floor, clutching a trash bag of alcohol and wondering if he can get his shit together.  ❝i’m not gonna be him.❞ he looks up as he says it, because it stands to reason that jade would follow him to see if he’s actually losing his mind.  ❝i’m not gonna fuck this kid up.❞

      she wants to help him, but it would seem as though this is a personal thing to do. she follows after him, though, lingering in the hallway and watching him bag up the toxins that litter the home that they now share. hand smooths down her shirt, trying to see if she feels any different, but she wouldn’t admit that if anyone called her out on it. 

      he doesn’t skimp out, he hits every place that she knows he could keep liquor and he empties it into the trash bag. it is loud and she is surprised, knowing he is hungover and knowing it isn’t pleasant for him. she’s surprised tears are on her cheeks; she hadn’t even realized he was crying.

       eventually, his knees would buckle, and that’s when she moved, and she’s by his side as he ties up the bag, and her hands cover his. “i know, beck.” and he speaks again, and she nods. “i know.” her lips catch his, gentle and careful not to bump into his nose or any other bruise. she withdraws, and realizes it’s been awhile since she’s kissed him for real. it’s nice.

he wakes up feeling warm, gentle kisses on the back of his neck, and decides that staying still is the best option right now - that staying still and willing his headache away is a better option than getting up, than peeling himself away from jade’s warm hands, gentle kisses.  

but she takes the decision away, moves away from him instead, and he drifts back into something sleep-like, hears faraway noises that seem like they should be worrisome, that seem like something he should fix.  but his head pounds, and he keeps his eyes pressed clothes, shallow breaths in and out of his mouth to try and quell the ache behind his eyelids.  it’s fine, though, because she returns, gentle fingers in his, and she whispers two words that take his muddled brain an uncomfortable amount of time to unravel.

and when they do unravel, beck’s eyes fly open, and he sits up ramrod straight, regretting the action immediately as his blackened eye throbs, and his nose aches, and his head pounds.  and somehow, all of that gets pushed aside in seconds, and beck forces open watering eyes to look at the woman he loves, and contemplate the fucking mess his life is in, because god damn he should be happy - he should be something like overjoyed - but all he can feel is dread, knotted like a fist in the bottom of his stomach, because he can’t fuck up a kid’s life.  not anyone’s kid, and least of all jade’s.  so what the fuck.  ❝are you serious?❞ probably not the best question to start off with but goddamn if beck isn’t nursing three different kinds of hangovers right now.  ❝jade, are you fucking with me?❞ almost as soon as he finishes the question he covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide.  you can’t swear around kids, can you?

fuck, he needs a - no.  no shit.  not that.  any-fucking-thing but that.

      she should’ve seen it coming, but when he doesn’t immediately react she thinks that maybe he didn’t hear, maybe she still has time to plan this out.. she’s wrong, though. he grows rigid, and he looks at her, through bruised, swollen features. jade sighed, hearing him ask her if she’s serious; if it’s a joke. goth would sit up a little, looking away from him for a moment and she shakes her head slowly. “i’m not fucking with you.” she doesn’t immediately understand why he covers his mouth like that, but when she gets it, she rolls her eyes.

      “i wanted to tell you last night, but-” but you went out instead. but you didn’t get home until late. but you showed up drunk. but we fought. she shrugged. “- i haven’t known for a couple of days. there wasn’t a good time to tell you. i..” she’d fidget like he does, nervous, like he gets. she wants to be happy with him, wanted to tell him when she was giddy, with a smile curling up the corners of her mouth as she tried to be coy. she wanted to laugh and cry tears of joy, have him place a hand on her flat abdomen. instead, she’s curling into herself, thinking of how she’s in a struggling relationship and she’s pregnant... and she can barely force herself to eat sometimes.

      “um... what do you want to do?” she would bite her lip, shrugging to herself, adding, “you don’t have to answer that right away.” eyes fall on her forearm, where five little dots have bloomed, purple against pale flesh. well, damn. now, if anyone sees that, they’ll get the wrong idea. she tugs at her shirtsleeves. “i - i wanna keep it.” voice cracks, gets a few notes higher, because she doesn’t know what he wants and jade used to be so good at reading him.

he thinks he used to sleep through the night.  sleep for longer than a couple of hours at a time.  he remembers his dad used to sleep a lot, after he’d been drinking.  beck wonders if that makes him different, maybe - if that’s why he’s never raised a fist.  maybe he’s too tired.  maybe that’s what it is.

and he’s slow, and messy, but he’s not deaf.  he hears her coming, lets his eyes slide shut as he listens.  he hears her hesitate, too, and wonders if this is.  wonders if she’s here to take her things and go, pack up and move out and leave him to crumble in a house so full of memories he feels like he’s suffocating sometimes.  they’re not that old, but beck feels ancient, feels the weight of the years he hasn’t lived yet pressing down on his chest.  except jade isn’t that - and she doesn’t do that.

she slides in behind, presses against his body, a soft warmth against the ridged lines he’s become.  her fingers feel foreign in his, but he can’t help but tighten the grip, can’t help but pull their entwined hands up to his chest, head tilted down so his fingers brush the skin.  he thinks he might be crying, but it’s hard to tell in the dark, when his head swims and the warmth at his back is the woman he loves more than anything else, too smart to stay with him and too loyal to leave.  he thinks he falls asleep, at some point.  he thinks it’s the first time he’s felt something in a long time.

      light streams in through the gaps in black out curtains and land, unfortunately, upon jade’s face. but beck is still there, which almost makes up for her rude awakening. she knows things aren’t better between them, they may not even be on the upswing, but she does know that she slept pretty nicely, and their fingers are laced together. they’re broken, but not beyond repair. it’s reassuring; and she’s pressing kisses against the back of his neck, comfortable under the covers with him. he’s her home, even now, when anyone who knew about the truth about their relationship would tell her that if she had any sense, she would leave. maybe she was more nonsensical than she thought.

      wave of nausea, and she’s untangling fingers and stumbling into the bathroom just in time to start heaving, and minutes pass by like hours before she stops feeling this way. for a moment, she ponders what did i eat? but then she remembers, she remembers just what beck was late for, the night before, dinner, and what she was going to tell him. she hadn’t planned it, she didn’t even know how she felt, but she knew she needed to tell him.