Fan fiction.

Rescue me (4)

Rescue Me

Rescue Me (2)

Rescue Me (3)

“What we’ve got here is a cry for help….” CNN.

“Their actions are indicative of an entire generation living without a moral code.  Coddled children…” MSNBC

“It’s an embodiment of society’s cultural decay.” FoxNews.

“Sometimes kids are just bad.” Dr. Eileen Hartnett, Today Show 

Jared switched the television off, tossed the remote on the sofa and sighed loudly.

“How about all of the fucking above?”

Laying across his desk were newspapers from around the world with headlines similar in nature to what the talking heads on the 24 hour news stations were saying.  Pictures of the charred studio lot and aerial videos of smoldering rubble accompanied the chatter about Gravity and Augusta Leto’s alleged crime.  It was sensational and likely going to be the biggest story of the decade.  Two rich kids, twins, with household names.  Faces that America loved.  Criminals.  $130 million in property damages.  One dead.  4 critically wounded. He still couldn’t fucking believe this was their life now.

Jared hadn’t been to the jail to see his girls yet.  On the advice of their legal team, the girls were remaining behind bars for the time being, at least until the dust settled a bit.  He didn’t like the idea of them being inside a lock up but he agreed it was probably the safest place for them right now.  He had faith in the lawyers and their advice even if it meant he wouldn’t see the twins for a while.  There is no way in hell he could bring himself to visit them behind bars.  He didn’t think he could handle it on top of everything else.  On the other hand, Felicity had been down to see them everyday.  There are some things a Mother can do that a Father cannot.  Visiting their twin daughters in jail is one of those things.  Jared didn’t beat himself up over it too much.  As long as Felicity went, they would know they were loved.

“Well, the good news is, there is absolutely no video after they jumped the fence.  None.  And we know they weren’t carrying anything with them when they jumped the fence.  So where did they supposedly get the gasoline?”  Felicity was talking in to her telephone, debating the merits of the case with someone when Jared peeked in her office.  Her back was to the door, she had no idea he stood there.  He listened for a moment more before turning away.

“Yes, but, they can’t prove that.”

Jared laced up his old black hiking sneaks and slipped out the back door of his house.  Their lot backed up quite nicely to a private drive that dipped in to a few lesser known canyon trails.  He figured the paps wouldn’t have come that far down the private drive and thusly he could sneak away unnoticed. Jared needed to work off some of his angst and a hike is the best form of anger management he could come up with given the limitations of his situation.  It sounded like, from Felicity’s phone call, the evidence might be weak against the girls, this knowledge propelled Jared forward on a nice long hike.

He got pretty far into a rocky trail before his phone started ringing.  With sweat beading on his forehead and the sun shining down on his shoulders he paused for a moment and checked the phone’s caller ID.  It was Shannon.  He hesitated, then sent the call to voicemail.  He couldn’t answer the call and lose his sense of peace.  He needed the salve the solitude of nature could provide for his wounds.  Another voice in his head would ruin the zen for sure.  He promised the air he’d call his brother back sometime later that evening and he kept on hiking. Up rockier terrain and through thicker underbrush.  He didn’t know where this barely traveled trail was leading him but it felt good beneath his feet.

When Jared got home later that night, calling Shannon back was the last thing on his mind. Showing on the big screen t.v., that hung high on a wall in the great room, was a salacious crime talk show hosted by Nancy Grace.  Felicity was standing in front of the t.v. in stunned silence.  Nancy Grace wasn’t running the same stock footage all the other news outlets were running, she was running CCTV footage of Jared’s girls pouring some liquid all over a set that was painfully familiar to Jared.  The set of his hit series written by none other than his wife Felicity.

“Where were the parents?” Nancy Grace was screaming.

Felicity started to moan.  The attack wasn’t fair and was definitely below the belt.  Felicity fell to her knees.  “There goes our careers.” she cried when she saw Jared standing behind her.

“Shit.” Jared mumbled.

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Wild Horses (20)

Liberty was born on a Sunday. Her entrance in to this world ethereal.  Aware and bright, were her blue eyes.  Swaddled in your arms until you brought her to my breast.  A new love bigger than anything we had ever known. Soul smacked.

Daddy’s girl took her first steps in to your arms.  Squeaked out your name and filled you with joy.  You taught her to swim in the pool out back at our ranch on Wrightwood.  When we moved to North Crescent you built her a slide then a diving board.  She would sing in tune with your guitar.  Two voices perfectly harmonizing the alphabet, Elmo’s song and Six Little Ducks.  Her fingers danced quickly over the piano keys.  Your little sponge.  Your little girl.

I learned to cook.  Taught pre-natal yoga.  And settled gladly in to a life with you, my husband, and our miracle child.  Time whittled away at the walls we built.  Eventually we let our guard down and went on living.  Your career flourished.  Music faded to the background while you concentrated on movies.  Your investments grew.  Life was good for us.

But … in the back of my mind always was a nugget of fear.  A knowing that Damien Joseph was still out there.  Cops long ago stopped returning our calls requesting an update on the case. Damien Joseph had vanished.  Hadn’t resurfaced for years.  That was good enough for them.  But I knew better.  Late at night after a long day, spent from love making and life building you’d confess that sometimes you thought about him too.  He still owned a piece of us both.  It wasn’t the fans or a rogue paparazzo that made us cling to Liberty so tight, it was him.

So, it goes without saying I wasn’t surprised when he appeared back in our life.  Liberty was nine. Her brother Danny, just three. We were lazying away the day on the beach in Malibu. Your friend’s beach front castle borrowed for the week.  Danny was collecting shells and Liberty was learning to surf.  I was a hundred pages deep in a mystery, you were watching a bird swoop in and out of the waves.  Our day was very California.  Lovely really. Until a bullet ripped through my temple and I fell in to your lap.

 

~FINI~

As requested… (19)

“Grab your computer.” You ordered.

“Are you kidding me? Why?”

“You mean you don’t want to marry me?”

“Of course I want to marry you. I love you.” I said and I snuggled up next to you on the couch “But what’s the rush?”

“The rush is, I don’t ever want a single person to look at this…us….and think we aren’t who we are.”  you kicked the stack of gossip rags that sat on our coffee table and they scattered to the ground.

“When did you start caring what other people think Jared?” I asked as I gazed at our two faces and my big belly on the cover of US Weekly.

“The day I met you.”

I shook my head.  I highly doubted that.

“There haven’t been many people in my life who I have needed like I need you.  You’ve changed me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Shannon says you thawed me out.”

“Jared” I sighed and I put my head on your lap. “I don’t need you to be my husband.  I love us, just as we are.  I love you as you are.  Freakish flaws and all.”  I tickled the back of your knee.  You hate that.

You wiggled away from me and smiled.  “Get your computer.”

“Ok but why?”

“We’ll fill out the marriage certificate papers online then go to the court house to finalize it.”

“You’re serious?  Today?”

“Today.”

“But…”

“I want to marry you right now.  A dress and a church aren’t what makes this official.  Who would we invite anyway?  We just need us … and the government” You smirked and I was brought back to a moment where once again, a quick trip to the court house seemed like a good way to hold on to me forever.

“You’ve thought this all out already?”

“When these bastards figure out who you are” you sighed “I want your last name to be Leto.”

How could I argue with that?

You buried your hands in the hair by my ears then skimmed them down my neck as our kiss became more passionate.  Your mouth was firey.  Heavy breaths as you kissed me like the past.  Alive.  Full mouthed.  Tongue in and out, twisting and curling and taking me over.  My hands quickly undressed you as your mouth moved from mine to my neck, to my collarbone then to my breast.  You pulled at my clothes to disrobe me but your passion got ahead of you. You fumbled with my buttons, stumbled on my zipper.  Nerves.  New nerves.  Like we were coming together for the first time again.  You laid me down on the sofa.  My leg found the back and I propped it there.  You found yourself between my legs.  Pressing in to me.  You kissed between my breasts and softly over my growing womb.

“I love you baby.” you said to my belly button as your hand cupped the tight skin around my womb.

“And I love you Beth Nobody.” you sniffed as tears filled your eyes.  You kissed my mouth again.  “You’re the one. Holy shit.  You’re the one!”  your forehead pressed in to mine.  Your eyes were glossy.  Full with tears.

I sat up and pulled your shoulders down in to me so you could kiss me from above.  This was my happy place now.  Underneath the man of my dreams.  My savior.  My best friend.  My husband?

“Yes I will marry you Jared Leto.” I said as the tears escaped my eyes.  “Today.”

You smiled big and turned me on my left side. “I want you so bad right now” you whispered in my ear.  I spread my legs and scooched myself in to your lap.  You entered me and moaned immediately.  So tight.  Two spoons.  You slowly moved your cock in and out of me.  Your tip teasing my clit.  Balls deep so your root then teased too.  Slow and melodic.  Rhythmic and steady.  You came deep within me. Shuddering and calling my name.  Your wife.  Today I will become your wife.

LifeChangingGossip.com (18)

The next morning there it was.  In your email asking for a comment and on my favorite gossip site’s homepage.

Jared Leto & Mystery Pregnant Woman Late Night Stroll

Jared Leto Shows Off Pregnant Girlfriend

Jared Leto Settles Down and Starts Family with Mystery Woman

“Um.” I mumbled as I read the articles in bed next to you.

You didn’t say a word.  You just clicked off your email and sunk back in to your pillow.

“And so it begins.” you grumbled from behind your hands.

“Sorry.”

“It was going to happen eventually.” you rolled over to face me and propped yourself up on an elbow  “You’re not a secret.  It just annoys me because this is none of their business and now they’re going to dissect our lives in to bite sized pieces so others can digest it.  It’s pointless exposure.  An invasion that’s so fucking unnecessary … Ok, I’m going to go shower.”

You flung the covers off of you and scampered off to the bathroom.  I listened to you pee then turn on the shower before I was sure you weren’t coming back and it was safe to open my laptop again.  I looked at all the pictures.  Googled a dozen articles.  Even trolled around twitter. All with a giant smile on my face.  Freedom.  I could taste it!  The Echelon was a-flutter.  Most seemed to think I was just fat (thanks HäagenDazs) but there were a few that could identify my stage of pregnancy to the minute.  I hunted down the girls I used to chat with on the daily, they did remember me and they were talking about me. Nicely. I wanted to tweet until my head exploded but your shower was already over.  I closed the laptop and picked up my novel.  I was rereading Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (or at least pretending to).

“Well, Beth” You clapped your hands once to get my attention “Feel like getting married today?”

wedding-rings-for-him-and-her-sets

New Me/New You (16)

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“JAYYYYYY” I shouted from high in our property.  “Jared!?”

You came running across the lawn and up the brick steps towards me frantically screaming “What? What?”

“Look! There’s a fire pit up here!” I was standing on a landing carved out of the hill that climbed upward at the back of our property. The old occupants must have forgotten a few things.  There were some patio chairs around a stone fire pit in a little spot on the back of the lot.  An enormous set of steps led up to me but it still seemed like a secret spot in the garden.

“Jesus Christ! You scared the fuck out of me!” you said as you climbed the steps to me.

When you reached the landing, I put my hands on your hips and said “Oh no.  Not that.  Anything but that.”

“You can’t just scream …” I ran my hand over your crotch feeling every sleepy inch of you. “Like that.”

“Can we build a fire up here?” I asked as I slid my hand inside your pants to feel you. Your dick is so thick.  Lengthy and full. I stroked slowly, my thumb focused on the tender underside and you grew hard in my hand.

“Yeah. Whatever you want” you mumbled, your attention drawn to the motion of my hand on your cock.

I kissed you a few times and you softly kissed me back. “I want you, Jared J. Leto.”

“Are you sure you feel ok?”

“It’s our first night in our new house Jared, we have to christen it.”

We’ve been together since ‘the incident.’ But very carefully, reserved and well planned.  A pillow here.  A leg over there. Patient and carefully positioned sex.  More mechanical than sensual.  But I was feeling pretty good today.  Pretty good and really fucking horny.  I wanted our spontaneity back and to be manhandled by your lust again.

“We’re not actually in our new house right now. It’s down there.” You pointed down the hill to tease me.

“I want to christen every inch of this property.” I said and I continued to rub your cock.

You moaned when I sped up my hand job “Mmm”

“You like that?” I asked.

“yeah” you croaked and I bit your shoulder softly.

While I nibbled your neck, you slipped a hand under my t-shirt to caress my boob. My nipple slipped between your fingers and you twisted it slightly before giving it a pinch. “Mmmmmm” I moaned now.   I wanted to taste you.  To feel your throbbing dick in my throat but I was sure my jaw wouldn’t allow it.  The pain might be worth it for the pleasure it would give me but I didn’t think you’d have the heart to go through with it.  You pulled your hand away from my breast and ran it down my stomach until it disappeared inside my shorts.  You tickled my little patch of hair before searching for my clit.  Your middle finger rubbed my bud back and forth.  At a similar pace to my strokes.  We both moaned.  Our kisses brief but our lips still touching as we gasped for air.

You backed off me for a moment, your eyes glazed and sparkling with lust.  You looked around for a place to sit.

“Over here.”  You said and you slipped your workout pants off.  Your blue briefs came off with them.  You sat on the edge of one of the newly discovered patio chairs.  Your cock high and ready for mounting.  I scooted out of my shorts and pulled my top over my head.  My bra was already off my chest so I left it clasped around my upper waist.

I took a moment to look at you naked on the patio chair.  Your long hair cascading down your chest, covering a nipple and your PIA tattoo.  Your cross necklace dangling down but hanging higher than the ends of your hair.  Your tight stomach. Tattooed arms and wrists.  Massive cock straight up off cut hips and muscular thighs. So fucking handsome.  Every inch of you.

I turned around and backed myself slowly in to your lap before impaling myself with you.  Deep at first.  I like to feel all of you inside of me. Filling me completely.  Then I rose and fell in long strokes up and down your cock. You unclasped my bra and let it fall to the ground.  My boobs bounced up and down as I rode you.  Your hands aided my hips until you slid them under my butt to watch yourself disappear inside of me.  You kissed my spine and squeezed my breasts as our pace got faster and faster.  I hadn’t reached my peak yet and you were well aware so you slid your hand around my thigh to my pussy where you vigorously rubbed my clit.  One hand on my breast, one on my bud.  Your hot cock inside me.  It was only a moment, not two, before I released and called out your name.  A moment later, you did the same and moaned mine.

L.A. or Bust (15)

“My place is in the Hollywood Hills.” You said as we wound our way up the 405 and across the 101 in the back of a chauffeured town car.

“Ok?” I nodded not really knowing what that meant.  Of course, I assumed you lived in some sort of celebrity village.  Gated world filled with colossal houses with salt water infinity pools and guest quarters.  But I pretty much assumed that meant Beverly Hills not Hollywood Hills.  Either way, I figured it had to be fancier out here than Baltimore.  Then again, you don’t do fancy, do you?

I rolled down the window and slipped my hand out in to the air.  My fingertips danced on the wind and my palm rode an invisible roller coaster up and down on the breeze. The skin on my neck and face was healing quickly but was still too tender to keep the window open long with my hair whipping around. It stung when my hair hit my flesh.

They painstakingly applied a topical antibiotic to my lacerations repeatedly during my hospital stay but the doctors still thought a little plastic surgery might be in my future.  You think it was too early to tell anything like that.  I was still so swollen and black-blue-purple-green from the bruising.  Either way, I wasn’t worried.  I was moving to nip/tuck central.  If it didn’t heal right, I’d just have it fixed.

All around us were hills peppered with houses both big and small.  Some with roofs like back home others with orange ceramic tiles. Spanish. Custom.  It was cool to see so much variety.  I grew up in flatlands with neighborhoods where every third house was the same as the one before it.  I liked seeing an apartment building then a fancy glass house then a row of bungalows.  Seemed like every dream could be won here.

You were reading a few things on your iPad.  Emails.  Whatever.  Ignoring me.

“My baby daddy has an Oscar!” I shouted out the open window to get your attention.

You laid your hand softly above my womb without diverting your eyes from your computer.  So much for that.  I watched the hills fill with more and more houses.  As we wound around a nonsensical highway system the landscape started to look less and less like a place where dreams are made and won and more like a smelly armpit.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Work.”

“Where’s your guitar?” I teased “Is it invisible?”  I was restless.  7 hours on a plane, a nervous run through an airport, baggage left for a stranger to fetch, new faces, new places, new loves, new drugs (pre-natals!) … did me in.   There was too much new, I needed a little of the old to get me through the rest of the ride.  I slid myself closer to you.  Brushed your hair back and nibbled on your neck.  Ran my hand across your crotch.

“Talk to me.”
“I’m doing this right now so I can spend the rest of the day talking to you.”

“Ok. Fine.” I pouted.

You pinched my chin softly and returned your hand to my womb for a moment.  “We’re almost there.” you informed me.

“Ok. If you say so.”

You took my hand in yours and laced your fingers with mine.  “I’m glad you’re here Beth.”

“Thanks.”

“It’ll be ok. You’ll see.”  You kissed the top of my hand and held it tight as you read and read and read on that piece of obnoxiously convenient technology.

Another fifteen minutes passed.  I leaned in and tried to read over your shoulder.  It wasn’t juicy.  No emails about caviar and champagne laden rock star riders, tore up hotel rooms you had to explain or mysterious smells on the tour bus that needed quick identification.  You were doing actual grown man work.  Investments.  New technology.  You were all growed up Jared!

I went back to starring out the window and promised myself I’d never leave the house again without a book in my purse.  Tried hard to stay out of my head and just focused on the landscape as Los Angeles rolled by.  Tall buildings started popping up.  Shit holes sprinkled along the side of the highway.  Lots of palm trees. Miles of chain link fence.  Ivy and mess.

“What’s that place?”  I asked as we exited the highway at Cahuenga Blvd.

“That, my dear, is the Hollywood Bowl.” you said and you finally put your tablet and telephone away.

“Oh my God! You guys did a VyRT from there!”

“We did.”

“Show me around?” I asked admittedly giddy. My fingers poking lightly at your knee “Where’s the star walk and Fredrick’s of Hollywood? Eh?  The Hollywood sign? Isn’t the ocean around here somewhere?”  I was starting to get excited. Maybe LA wouldn’t be so bad once I knew which end was up.

“One thing at a time woman.  You’ve got to heal first.  And we gotta talk about the way things work around here.  It’s not as easy for me to come and go here as it was in Baltimore.”

“Great.  We’re in prison.” I flumped back in my seat.  My enthusiasm was waning again.

You shook your head “The papps are still on my dick because of the award.  They hang around the house.  The last thing I need is for you to be photographed for the first time beaten to shit.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  I didn’t think about that.”

Cahuenga became Ventura Boulevard and we made a left in front of a donut shop and drove up in to the hills.

“It’s not like that everyday.  Once the cops catch that fucker, we can relax a little. After that and after you’re healed, we’ll announce the relationship and introduce you to the Echelon. Maybe not in that order. They’ll get a kick out of you I’m sure.  Especially, since you used to be one of them.”

“I still am one of them.”

“Good answer.”

“It’s not a line.  I met a lot of really cool people at your shows and I totally dig the music.  Nothing has changed just because you knocked me up!”

“You dig?”

“I dig.”

“Right on.”

“Har-de-har-har” I said.

“That’s my house.” you pointed to a white wall on our right with a little ivy creeping over the top.  “But there’s a lot of people there right now so we’re just going to stop for a second to pick up some of my things then we’re going to go up the hill a little to a place I think I might do something with.  My house is also the studio you know.”

“Yeah, I was wondering how all that worked.”

“It wont.  Not for us.”

The driver parked the town car in front of the house I’ve seen on VyRT a dozen times and in online tabloid magazines twice that.  While we idled, I tried to orient myself to what I knew about your place from your video streams and Artifact.  Your awards were in the kitchen.  Studio downstairs.  Pool.  I started to feel like a creeper instead of your lover so I sat back in my seat and tried to figure out how the hell one pronounces Cahuenga Blvd.  Once I figure that one out, I’ll work on the pronunciation of your street.

“So, where we going?” I asked after you filled the trunk with a few items and bless all that is holy: your guitar.

“I just picked up the key to a place for sale up on Wrightwood.”

“Wrightwood? Like I know where that is.”

“Up the hill from here.  It’s a little three bedroom ranch.  Pool.  Great security.  Needs some TLC but just cosmetic stuff.  Might be fun to redo if you like it.”

“You’re going to buy it?”

“Maybe.  It’s a great price and Shannon likes project houses.”

“Your brother?”

“Don’t worry, he knows all about you. So does my Mom. You’ll meet them both one of these days.”

“I’m not ready for all that yet.”

“When you are …”

The house was fantastic.  Gated.  Secluded.  Single story.  Huge windows.  Sliders everywhere.  Sunshine.  Private and peaceful (you could hear the highway just a little bit, that I was thankful for.  Too much quiet is bad for my health). The Master Bedroom over looked the pool.  The second and third bedroom hung together at the front of the house with a Jack and Jill bathroom between.  All of the bathrooms were hideous, kitchen too.  But the floors were outstanding.  The ceilings were high.  It had a lot of potential.  I loved it.

“Do you like it?” you asked as we stood in front of the stone fireplace and you flicked the gas on to check for function.

“It’s really nice Jared.  Too much red brick but I can see the potential.”

“Yeah.  Could be a great house for a family.” you snuggled me in and kissed my hair.  “Still hard to believe you’re having my baby.”

I cocked my head back “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean it like that. Of course it’d be you having my baby.  It’s just freaky that I’m going to be a Father.  I have no idea what that means.”

“Jared?  Did you forget, I don’t know how a Mother acts either?”

“We’ll figure it out. Our baby will have the two best parents a kid could ever ask for.”

“Yeah she will.”

“He!” you teased.

“She.”

“You can’t tell, can you?”

“Naw.  Just wishful thinking.  I always wanted a girl.”

“50 percent chance of being right.”

“I like those odds.”

“Me too.”

“Should we look at the nursery again?”  you asked.  I nodded and took your hand.  L.A. isn’t a bust after all.

 

boyorgirls

Unfuckingbelievable (14)

I woke in a low lit hospital room with you by my side.  It was late night or perhaps very early morning.  The city lights were twinkling outside the room’s one window but it was very quiet.  An IV was pumping fluids in my veins and a blood pressure cuff was filling, monitoring me and then deflating periodically on my upper arm.  I was stitched and bandaged but in a lot of pain.

You were sleeping lightly in a chair pulled close to my bed, your head on your arm, your arm on the railing of my bed.  Snoring softly.  Exhausted.

My mouth felt very dry.  My throat like ice climbers had hacked their way through.  My lips like I played spin the bottle with a cheese grater.  A total and complete mess from my shoulders up.  With the exception of some blue/black bruising on my wrists and probably some major bruising on my neck, the rest of me was unscathed.

A nurse flittered in to the room and checked the fluid level in my IV bag.

“Oh, you’re awake!” she announced.

I put my pointer finger to my lip quickly to shush her.  I nodded to your sleepy self and she smiled.

“He came in around midnight.” she whispered before she went back to her tasks.

“He shouldn’t have.”  I croaked.  My voice weak and unconvincing.

The nurse gave me a quizzical look then asked “Is it ok he’s here?  Police cleared him but if you want him out…”

“No.  I just mean … he has better places to be.”

She stopped what she was doing and turned to me before saying “Honey, I don’t want to get in your business anymore than I already am but I don’t think there’s anywhere in this entire world he’d rather be than by your side right this very moment.”

“He should be on tour.”

“I doubt that matters to him much right now.” she said as she fiddled with the monitors and checked all my tubing.

“You think?”

“He’s real worried about you.”

“He was on the phone when …”

“I know honey, I know.  You don’t have to talk about that.  Get some rest, ok? How’s your pain?”

“Pretty bad.”

“Let me see what they’ll let me give you ok? Maybe some Tylenol?”

“Something stronger than that?”

“Doubt it. But I’ll check.”  She floated out of the room and I thought to myself: That’s odd.  Why can’t I have one of those pain killers that would numb me for days?  Perco-whatever or Vico-din-din-din?  All things considered, aren’t I the type of patient that shit was invented for??

While I waited for the nurse to return with something/anything to numb my pain, I watched you sleep.  My hand with the IV was closest to you but I ran it through your hair anyway.  I wanted to touch you.  Feel some part of you to remind me that I’m here and alive and that my life does have some good in it.  You are still in it.  No matter how bad that is for you, in this moment, your presence is everything I need.  Everything I have.  The only thing I want.  My hand wasn’t as soft in your hair as I thought and I accidentally woke you.

Your face lit up when you saw that I was awake too.  Then a heaviness filled the space around your eyes.  Your veins were high on your skin.  You looked stressed-the-fuck out.

“Beth.” you sighed and I started to cry at the sound of your voice.

“Don’t cry !” You stood up and came in quickly to hold me but stopped yourself before you got too close.  I was like a China doll, delicate and on a high shelf.  It was awkward for the both of us. So used to wanton access to every inch of the other.  I wanted to be in your arms but you were afraid to break me.  The space between us was too wide.  It made me cry more.  You shifted my blankets so you could sit on the bed and took my unencumbered hand in yours.  “It’s going to be OK” you reassured me.  “You’re going to be just fine.”

We sat together but were miles apart inside.  My tears fell but my lungs no longer cried out.  You tried to find unbruised skin to touch but you were limited so you mainly held my hand.  Even wiping away my tears worried you.  We both were broken.  Pathetic versions of our former selves.  Vulnerable.  Weak.

“As soon as they sign your release papers, I’m flying you home to LA.” You declared after a lifetime of silence.  Your tone didn’t leave much room for debate but I wasn’t about to let you do that.  Though I was flattered by the notion, there was no way would I allow you to take on my burdens as yours. Not for a single second.

I shook my head no and whispered, my voice hoarse and constricted,  “This isn’t your problem to fix Jared.”

“Don’t move your neck!” you warned “Jesus Christ!”

I put a hand up to my neck and felt the brace there.  Wow.  Damien Joseph really did a number on me this time. He fucked me up good.

“Jared” I said as I put both of my hands on top of yours  “that’s very kind of you to offer but I’m not going anywhere.  This is where I live.”

“He’s going to kill you if you stay.”

“He’ll find me wherever I go.” I advised.

“He might figure out where you’ve gone but he will never ever be able to get near you again.”

I sighed.  It is going to be hard to convince you to walk away.

We returned to relative silence.  The only sound coming from my monitors and the nurses movement in the hall.  You were angry with me.  For the right reasons but angry just the same.  Once again I was at a loss for words.  How do you explain to someone you love that you love them too much to let them stay?

* * *

“Jared?”  I asked you as you tapped away on your telephone.

You looked up at me and let your eyes answer my call.  They were moist.

“Is there something else I should know about what happened…” I stuttered.  Not knowing the full details of what happened to me after I blacked out, while knowing you likely witnessed every minute, was eating at me.  I had to ask, though I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer: “Did … Did …” I looked at my feet “Did Damien rape me?”

“No.”

I collapsed in to a pool of reverence.  Thankful to God for the littlest of mercies.

“Thank God!”

You leaned back on an elbow on the edge of my bed. “The cops said something or someone must have scared him off.”

“So he got away?”

“There’s a warrant out for him.” You said as you sat up straight.

“But he got away?”

You nodded simply. Then added “There’s an officer stationed outside your room right now.  No one is allowed in or out but me and Nurse Katie.”

I looked out the hospital room window.  A warrant for his arrest might as well be a warrant for my death.  He’d be after me for the kill now.  No doubt about that. An officer outside doesn’t matter.  He’ll wait until complacency sets back in and get me then.  He has the patience of a psychopath.  Time isn’t a deterrent.  Los Angeles or Mayberry.  I’m not safe anywhere.

And if I’m not safe, Jared, that meant you weren’t either.

“I’m sorry I brought you in to this mess Jared.” I began  “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be here or anything. I’m ok.  Really. You should go back to the band and get back on your tour.”

“Stop acting like I care because I’m obligated to rather than I actually do! It’s an insult.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop fucking apologizing!” you groaned.  “Jesus!  You’re too much.  Look at you!  I never should have let you meet up with him alone.  I knew this guy was bad news but I left anyway! What kind of man leaves his girl to deal with a lunatic all alone?”  You rubbed your temples and revealed a pained and guilty face.

“This is not what I want!” I cried “You have nothing to feel guilty for! I told you to leave. Damien Joseph is the bad guy, not you!”

“I should have been with you.”

I crawled down to the end of my bed where you were “You don’t belong inside this nightmare Jared.”

“Neither do you!”

“Please go home Jared.  This isn’t meant for you! You’re so much better than this!”

I was so angry in that moment.  Not for what had been done to me; this type of violence and Damien Joseph are, unfortunately, part of the fabric of my life; but for what he had done to you.  He made you second guess yourself.  Feel helpless.  It was so misdirected and unacceptable to me.  You were the good in my life and here you were at my bedside feeling bad.

“I can’t just unsee what I saw.” You stood up and paced the small hospital room.

“I’m fine.” I said and I tried to sit up.  Pain shot through my entire body but I stuffed it down. “Don’t you have a show tonight?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I told you I’m fine Jared.  Don’t let him control you too!  Please?  You have to go.  Go back on tour.  I’m fine. Trust me.”

My words got under your skin like splinters.  I saw them reflected in your eyes.  Daggers or poison darts.  Bleeding you all the same.

“Go home.”  I requested again.

You were quiet for a few minutes.  Watching the twinkling city lights fade as the sun rose.

“You’re pregnant for fuck sake.” You said without turning away from the window.

“Preg…?” I couldn’t finish saying the word.  I just put a hand to my womb and started to cry. My soul swelled as my heart crashed.  What a mind-fuck.  An explosion of tears funneled out of me.  Inaccessible breaths.  Snot and all.

You sighed as you came back over to me “They told me last night.”

“They’re wrong.”  I threw my legs over the side of my hospital bed, pain in my back quelled by the new pain in my heart  “I can’t have kids Jared.” I reminded him as I stood up and untwisted my IV from the bed railing.  “I told you that.”

“Apparently you can.”  You reached over to the table where a cup and a pitcher of water were sitting and grabbed a paper with your scribbling on it.  “See these numbers?” you said as you handed me the paper “They’re your HCG levels and according to those numbers you’re about ten or eleven weeks my dear.”

“I can’t be.” I looked at the paper then back at you then back at the paper and round and round.

“You are.”

I began to feel very defensive as the possibility of me actually being pregnant started to sink in. “I didn’t do it on purpose! I was told it was impossible for me to get pregnant.  I swear! I’m so sorry.”

“STOP! Stop. Stop!” you urged as you walked over to me and directed me back in to the bed. “I know you were telling me the truth.  Stop.  The doctors explained it.  It’s ok.  Stop talking.  I’m not mad.  I’m not.”

Dumbfounded. No, the mess between my ears was way beyond that. Confounded.  You absentmindedly rubbed my leg while lost in your own thoughts.  I ran away in to mine.  Memories I’d give my life to forget filled my head.  Then gratitude.  An unmistakable stream of gratitude trickled in to my consciousness slowly.  Here I was on the worst day of my life hearing the best news of my life.  And there you were, by my side, exactly where … maybe someday … I’d come to believe, you belonged.

* * *

“Ten or eleven weeks?”  I asked you.

“Yes.”

“Are they sure those were my test results?” I joked.

“They did an ultra-sound in Emergency.” You smoothed my hair and looked deep in to my eyes. “I already met the little alien.  Strong heart.  Tough kid.”

“Wow.”

“I did the math.” you teased “Sorry to tell ya, but it’s mine.”

Incredulous. “We’re having a baby?” I asked again.

“We’re having a baby.” You affirmed. You leaned in and kissed me very softly.  “Now you see why we have to get you to L.A.?”

“We?”

“Yeah. We.”

I acquiesced with a sigh … finally.

“Los Angeles or bust!”

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