December 14th, 2009
She tried to shake the sour words from her mind, to concentrate on the drive instead of the nuclear fight that motivated it, but the weight of the car had been shifting uneasily with every turn, crunching and crackling atop the ice and freshly fallen snow. Her dad had always taught her to roll down the window in those kind of conditions, no matter how cold or wet, because eyeballs couldn't fog over or become as powder-ridden as a windshield. If that advice was the only thing she was left doubting in her life, Amy would have been so much happier. The knot in her stomach might have been gone, and she could have concentrated far easier on her already iffy driving experience.

Five minutes later, she'd be hopelessly stuck in the blizzard, spewing expletives at winter tires, snow and the rest of the universe.

Twenty minutes later, her hands would be getting too cold to shovel the tires out. She'd resign to doing that thing she hates; She'd ask for help. She'd dial her phone and she'd beg him not to laugh.

A few hours later, she'd be drunk, and she'd wake up on top of Jared Sykes.

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Two hours after driving her rental car into a ditch, Amy found herself somewhere just outside of Boston, dragging her things into a strange livingroom. Above her, Darth Vader stood triumphantly, a squadron of TIE fighters flying from his cape in what she considered the ugliest of all Empire Strikes Back movie posters. It was even framed.

''Wow,'' She gasped at the artwork, ''I'm kinda surprised you didn't make a frame out of popsicle sticks and macaroni to match the horror of you picking out the single worst of all Star Wars posters. Though I do appreciate you coming to get me, so maybe I'll just shut my mouth.''

'The Popsicle sticks are in the basement, and the macaroni art I keep in a private vault.' Jared Sykes shut the door to his house behind him and kicked the snow from his shoes. 'Seriously, they even have one of those biometric locks - you know, the fingerprint things? The have 'em on the door to keep people out. And don't knock Darth. That's an original.'

Amy was busy scanning her surroundings - mostly admiring a small set of pirate-themed Lego on the coffee table. ''Sorry for spilling whiskey in your car, by the way. And I swear I didn't start drinking until after I went off the road. Not into drunk driving.''

''Soo, uh...'' When she continued, it was with a smile - she didn't realize she'd entirely no-sold Jared's first over-the-top joke of the night. ''Since the snow's not gonna get anybody anywhere... got anything alcoholic laying arou--''

The sight of the empty bottles near a t-shirt thrown onto one of Sykes' end tables answered that well enough, and Amy's eyes went to the floor. ''Dumb question, I guess.''

''Yeah.'' His voice was a little more sullen than it had been a moment ago. ''I wasn’t really expecting company.''

He unzipped the black and red SCCW hoodie that he was wearing and tossed it lightly onto the nearby stairs. Jared’s house was something of a disaster. He never really kept it clean, but the last few weeks had seen a marked decline in its upkeep. Depression will do that to you.

''About that,'' he continued. ''The hell are you doing driving in a snowstorm in my neck of the woods? Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the country doing… whatever it is you guys do.''

''You mean having sex and arguing?'' Amy shrugged when Jared's face went beet red. ''I'm not sure how much of either I can look forward to anymore.'' She wasted no time helping herself to a half-emptied bottle of cherry brandy on the coffee table, starting on the warm drink without so much as a thought to what germs her lips might be introduced to.

''Huh.'' He slid his hands into his pockets and took a step closer to the living room. ''I guess I’m just kinda confused. I didn’t know we’d hit the ‘drive halfway across the country and show up at my house’ stage.'' He waved his hand in the direction of a small collection of bottles on one of the end tables. ''You might want to stay away from those, by the way. Not really sure how long they’ve been open.''

''Don't worry about it, my liquor's the only thing I like to let breathe. And to be honest, you're sort of the halfway point between the show in Detroit and my parents' place in Nova Scotia. I'm a little... I'm kind of confused as all hell right now. Just trust me, you don't wanna hear about it all. Really and truly. I've let my life spin into this... this fucking thing, y'know? Like, some kind of haunted house you're afraid to look at, afraid to step into... you just wanna tear it down and hope the foundation was ever solid enough to rebuild on.''

He stepped a little closer to the living room, still careful to give her a bit of space. ''Hey, you’re here, I’m here, and it’s snowing, so it’s not like we’re going anywhere anytime soon. If you need to vent or whatever, fire away. I can handle it.'' He was leaning against the threshold to the living room now, looking at some of the empty bottles he’d neglected to remove. ''Well, I can handle other people’s stuff. My own? Eh, not so much.''

Amy finished the last of the brandy with one long motion, following up with a hard swallow and sharp exhaling. She hated cherry-flavored anything. ''Trust me, this isn't the kind of thing I can vent about with words. You want the point form version? I hate my life. I fucking hate it. I resent people for things they're not in control of and I fuck people over for no goddamn reason but to help myself.''

She cringed and eased back onto the couch. ''Fucking conspiracy theories. I get to live a spy novel instead of a real life. Have you got anything cold here? And maybe hard enough to give me a better shot at passing out before midnight?''

''I don’t, not unless you just want soda. Anything I have is pretty much right here. Been a rough few weeks, you know? To be honest I’m kind of embarrassed you saw the place the way you did.'' His eyes went to a spot of dried blood on the carpet just under the coffee table. He hoped she didn’t notice it. ''For what it’s worth, if there’s anything I can do…'' Jared elected to shrug rather than finish the thought.

''Erase the past two years of my life, maybe?''

When thought caught up to the words, Amy shook her head violently. ''No, wait. Scratch that. That's too harsh to say. Just drink with me. We'll watch a shitty movie and party. And fuck, I'm rude... how're you holding up, anyway?''

Jared nodded in the direction of the coffee table. ''So all that doesn’t speak for itself?''

''You do realize who you're talking to, right?''

Jared spared her a half-snort, half-chuckle, kicked off his shoes into the hall and walked into the living room, plopping down in the coach near her. He was just close enough to be friendly, just far enough away to not be creepy.

''I probably should’ve poured this shit out days ago.'' He slid his foot nonchalantly over a small stain on the rug, trying his best to keep it hidden. ''You want the truth? A total wreck. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I used to think I had a handle on things, or at least I told myself I did, and then it all just went the fuck away. It’s been almost three weeks and I still haven’t been to visit his gr… Still haven’t been to the cemetery.''

''It's like that, sometimes. It's just the way it is for some people. You've gotta deal with it your own way, you know?'' She sighed. ''I can't preach about the way you should do things, and it's your right to be a total wreck for a little while. That kind of thing surrounds death. You're entitled to it just by living. Maybe I've just dealt with too much tragedy, but I figure one day I'll be just another dead wrestler, found in her home or hotel room after a heart attack, overdose, whatever... and it's sick to say, but I pray that somebody other than my mother will be a wreck about it.''

He let his head fall back into the cushion and turned slowly towards her. ''I’d be kinda heartbroken.''

''See? That's all I can ask for - for you to be miserable when I die.'' Amy had leaned back into the strange comfort of the couch that smelled like gin, too. ''We're quite the pair, huh?''

''I figure there’s about eight shades of fucked-up between us, yeah.'' He shrugged, grinning. ''Oh well, least we keep things interesting.''

''And I figure at least one of us has sex with women, so we're good, right?''

''Yeah, you know, ’cause I was wondering if my ego was getting trampled or not today.''

''Baw,'' Amy smirked. The change of subject was more than a little relieving, and the load got even lighter when she slipped an arm around Jared's neck, tilting her head against his. ''Poor thing. You know I don't have much more than a mess to talk about, though. You should be glad you aren't sleeping with anyone, because holy shit is it a bad idea in the circles we run in.''

Jared's response was a playful shouldering that loosened her grip a little, but Campbell's own words were what had turned her mood south again. Her eyes went to her lap and she coughed, unfurling herself to reach for another open, nearly-finished bottle. ''I, uh... I'm pretty sure it's over, anyway. She and I, that is.''

The admission caught him totally off guard. ''Seriously? Wow, that sucks. I’m sorry, Amy. I really am. When it all came out a few months ago I sorta figured you two’d be in for the long haul. It’s, uh, yeah. Kind of surprising. But if you don’t want to talk about it I’ll totally understand.''

''She wants the long haul, and it's not even that I don't...'' She shook her head. ''I just can't stomach it. Everything about everything makes me hate waking up in the morning. Alex is great - amazing, even - and Quinn... the life it could be... it could be perfect, but it's not and it won't be and it's nobody's fucking fault and that drives me crazy and...''

Amy blinked fast, shaking her head again. Jared was kind enough to ignore the beginnings of tears, but the little redhead knew she'd just ramped the awkward tone of the room up another notch. ''... and I'm not meaning to suddenly be going nuts on you, sorry. My problems aren't half as bad as yours right now. I mean, it's not like my friend just di--''

Before those words escaped, her body was awash with goosebumps and the quivering of sobbing she'd try to quell before the tears saw the light of day. Katie Malick came to mind quickly -- no matter how hard Amy would try to forget it, she'd just lost the best friend she'd foolishly betrayed, and she was talking to the only person other than Katie Malick who'd have heard those kind of admissions from her. ''Okay,'' She corrected herself with a cracking voice. ''So, I'm a fucking mess. I'm sorry.''

''Don’t.'' Jared’s voice was soft, and strangely he was smiling. It wasn’t quite the reaction one might expect from someone whose own recent failings had just been brought to light, but it was there nonetheless. ''Don’t apologize. If you need to yell, or scream, or whatever then I’m not gonna stop you. Don’t feel like you need to hold back around me.''

He gestured to his face, now a pretty shade of fuchsia, and chuckled. ''Regardless of what color I turn, say whatever you want.''

''I don't know if there's much more to say after admitting that I hate my life, or at least what I've made of it.'' It was her turn to get pink-cheeked, embarassed when the stray couple of tears broke off from the glassiness of her eyes. ''I have such incredible people around me, but between what I do and what the people around them do, it's ruined. I made a horrible mistake in letting things become what they have. I hurt people I love, and now I'm going to do it all over again because I can't make up my fucking mind, because I can't... I can't just sit back and be happy. And I can't even blame it all on my own idiocy. I can't say it's all my fucking fault, because it's all past or what other fucking people are doing. I fucked Darcy over. *I* own that mistake, but Alex is a person I can't be happy with because of things she did in the past, because of the manipulative cocksuckers who she'll never be rid of.''

Campbell craddled a bottle of whiskey between her knees and her chest, not realizing she was pressing her forehead into the point of Jared's shoulder. ''It's not her fault. It's not. It's not even my fault. I can't hate her, and I can't blame me, so I don't know what the hell to do. I just can't do it... I thought I could force myself into this great love, like it might make what I did worth anything, but I can't.'' The sniffle was quiet, but audible. ''I can't.''

He’d seen her cry before. The first time was on a monitor backstage during an episode of Sin City’s flagship program, Temptation. The second was only a few weeks ago at the funeral of Katie Malick. Neither hit him quite this hard.

''Hey. Hey,'' he whispered. ''It’s okay. I promise it’ll be okay.''

He rolled his shoulder slightly, freeing his arm. It hung suspended in the air as he tried desperately to make up his mind. He wanted to hold her, to be comforting, to be reassuring. She looked so frail that the fear of actually breaking her stayed fresh in his mind. There was also a little matter of a line he wasn’t sure he’d be crossing.

''You don’t have to force yourself into anything, you hear me?'' Jared kept his voice low. It ate at him to see her this way. ''It’ll be okay.''

''I forced myself out of my marriage, and I'm okay with that. I own that mistake. I just can't stomach this... it's so selfish, but I have to break away no matter how much it hurts her. It's better for the both of us in the long run. I've wasted so many people's time and it's just... fuck.''

Amy was a veteran at using her tiny fists to inflict real damage, but the punishment was directed squarely back at her when she lashed out in frustration, driving the butt of a worn hand into her temple. ''Fuck!'' She snarled, ''I can't fucking stand myself. I can't stand my life. I can't stand what she enabled me to be or what everybody else enabled her to do... and I can't stand that I don't want it like I thought I did. I can't handle this. I'm in fucking... wherever we are... because I don't want to be at home, and I can't let my family see me with everything blown up in my face and... and...''

Her eyes squeezed shut and she coughed again, trying to choke the flood of feeling. ''And I lied about this being halfway between Detroit and Nova Scotia. Maybe it is, I dunno... but I didn't have an end game. I wasn't travelling there. I was coming here. Here. To see you. Because this feels safe. You're fucked up and I'm fucked up, but this feels safe and nothing else right now does. I'm not pulled in fifty directions or trying to compensate for something. I'm just... just here.''

''I’m glad you’re here. I – hey, stop that.'' She fired a second fist at herself, but this one he was quick enough to catch. She struggled against his grip for a moment, but only when he was fairly convinced she wouldn’t try it again did he let go. ''If you need to hit something then I’d rather you take a shot at me. I can take it, and it’s better than beating yourself up over it.''

''It makes me happy that you feel safe here. Like, you don’t even know.'' A slow heat was building behind his eyes. He’d spent enough time in his own emotional hell to know what that feeling usually brought. ''You’re like the only person I know who’s not judging everything I do, or wondering if I’ve lost my goddamn mind, and it kills me to see you like this. Really, you don’t even know.''

''No disrespect to your other friends,'' It was a strangely sweet thing when Amy forced herself to smile meekly at him under the tears. ''But I'm probably the only person you know who can relate to what being at your worst feels like. That's... it shouldn't be a good thing, really, but it kinda is.''

Jared shook his head. ''Whether it is or it isn’t, I don’t much care. Just… just know that it really means a lot to me. Fuck, I’m so bad at this. The conversation gets all serious and watch out! Jared locks right up.'' He turned his head and laughed into his shoulder. ''It’s like, I just want to make you not sad, and I wish I knew how to do that.''

Amy chuckled, though she wouldn't meet his eyes. Her smile was infectious - even if that words sounds too harsh for something brimming with so much energy in spite of so much sadness.

''Just hand me another drink and I'll show you how it's done.'' She winked, and Jared obliged, if not only because they both needed an excuse to be caught having fun in such a storm.