Wood and Roses

Mercedes’ eyes shot open into the darkness of the Mercer living room, a terror running through her so suffocating in it’s presence that she couldn’t breath. Shallow labored breaths tried to force their way out of her lungs but there was a blinding dread that seemed to stop all function.

Faces swam around her, voices, colors and lights all a blur…for a moment she was back in L.A. again. Back to where it had all gone horribly wrong, where any and all control she had ever thought she had had been robbed of her. Once again she was back in an eight by ten room on that bare, stained mattress surrounded by strangers.

Screwing her eyes shut Mercedes sat up rigidly, trying to remove herself from that place…a dream, it had only been a dream. Another dream…goddamnit when were they going to end? Her hand clutched feebly at her chest as she tried to draw away the pain, cursing anything and everything under the sun. Mercedes didn’t know who it was she hated, she didn’t know who to direct all the anger at, but anger was all she had. Without the anger, the terror would steal away her waking hours as well. At least when she was awake there were no dreams.

She blew air softly out of her nose and opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the darkness. A couch…she was on a couch, not a bed. She was home, not in some junkie squatter’s place of business.

“You’re home, Mer.” She stated reassuringly. Her voice, though barely a whisper, seemed to echo throughout the dark room. Dark…it was too dark. Her fingers found the light switch on the couch-side lamp and the room was quickly bathed in warm, comforting light. She scanned the area slowly, her breathing steadying gradually as she did so. “You’re okay.”

Legs swung over the edge of the couch and Mer soon found herself on her feet, padding gingerly towards the kitchen and flicking on the light. The clock on the wall read five a.m. and Mercedes sighed. There was no way she was going to be able to fall asleep again. The stale coffee in the pot on the counter on any other day would have seemed like a last resort, but Mercedes quickly found herself grabbing a mug with shaky hands and pouring herself a cup. As it reheated in the microwave, she leaned against the counter, rolling her neck once to the right and then the left, hearing a satisfying crack in each direction.

As if on their own accord, her hands reached next for the kitchen cupboard above the sink and found Bobby’s whiskey. She placed it on the counter, wincing at the clink of glass hitting linoleum.

The beeping of the microwave alerted her to the fact that her coffee was hot and she silently retrieved it, pouring a generous amount of whiskey into the dark liquid and returning the bottle to its place above the sink. The strong smell of coffee and whiskey seemed to simultaneously awaken her senses and dull them. Mercedes leaned in against the warm shiver that ran through her as she held the mug to her lips and took a lingering sip. The kitchen was quiet, calm, reassuring in its simplicity. Here, this house was the only place in the world she knew for certain no harm would ever come to her. It was like her fortress against all the evils of the world, the demons. And upstairs, sleeping soundly in their beds were her knights, her protectors.

Mercedes gave an indignant snort at her present train of thought…who was she kidding? She could damn well take care of herself…most of the time. However, as she sipped the strong brew in her mug and tried to fall into the warm lull of the whiskey, she conceded to the fact that it was one of the best feelings in the world to know that she didn’t always have to. There were people in the world that loved her enough to do the taking for her, at least for a little while. And that was why she was here…to feel the love and protection she had missed so much.

The unmistakable sound of the stairs creaking beneath a Mercer’s feet pulled Mercedes back to the present. She recognized the footsteps instantly- something she’d been able to do since childhood- and sighed.

“Can’t sleep?” Jack’s head poked through the doorway and his expression soured slightly. Despite his blatant dislike for the company in the kitchen he continued into the room until he was standing at the opposite end of the large kitchen table. Blue plaid pajama pants hung low on his hips as he tried to shake a tendril of silver hair from his eyes. One hand reached up to his unclothed chest and scratched absently for a moment before dropping back to his side. He was leaning against the counter in the classic Jack fashion, one hip jutted out, his shoulder taking most of the weight as it rested on the fridge.

Despite the lingering sense of terror that Mer had yet to shake, the sight of Jack in the same room as her, with no shirt, hair in his eyes…standing that way…it still had the same old effect on her, if not stronger than before. The need to be just that much closer to him, to touch him, kiss him…god it was torture to only be able to stand there and return the cold stare he was directing at her.

There was this fire in her again, screaming for her to go to him, be in his arms, feel the heat that neither had ever been able to deny, that she could feel even from the other end of the room… and yet there they were, neither able to swallow their pride.

With a defeated sigh Mercedes dropped her gaze from Jack’s and took another sip of her drink. Though she had been sleeping, she felt like she hadn’t rested for years, and this night had left her with no reserves to battle it out with Jack again. All she wanted to do was let go, truly let go and go to him…feel his arms around her, his breath in her hair. Instead she shook her head sadly, took another large gulp and start for the door.

She had to get away from Jack before she gave in completely and left herself at his mercy. A few steps towards the door and she stopped, turned on her heel and headed back towards the cupboard for the whiskey. As her hand encircled the bottle, she felt the air in the room change and knew without looking that Jack had tensed, no doubt about to say some sarcastic retort or tell her to put it back.

“Don’t Jackie.” She said quietly, turning once again and heading for the door. The words that were supposed to come out as a command sounded like a plea even to her and she doubled her stride towards the door. “Not right now, okay?” A hand was on her arm then, gently stopping her though he didn’t try and turn her to face him. An electric jolt went through her at Jack’s touch and she pursed her lips against it.

“Mer…what are you doing?” His voice wasn’t judging or condescending, nor was it angry. It was simply a question, a gentle one, a peace offering if only for the moment.

“I’m just…” Mercedes paused, unsure of what it was she was actually doing, and how she was going to word it so that he’d understand…and god his hand felt good on her arm, the kindness in his voice…she wanted to stay there forever. “I had a bad dream. I just need to take off the edge, okay?” She turned her gaze to meet Jack’s and managed a soft smile, placing her free hand over his reassuringly. “You’re not driving me to drink or anything I just-”

“You’re shaking.” God why did he have to look so concerned…why the hell did those eyes have to undo her so completely. She closed her eyes, grasping at the calm that had begun to fall over her moments earlier.

“You don’t have to do this.” She gestured, opening her eyes but averting her gaze determinedly. “You don’t have to be nice to me because you feel bad that I’m sad, Jack. This had nothing to do with you.” She tried to pull her arm gently free but he didn’t let go. Before Mercedes could comprehend what was going on, Jack had taken the cup of coffee from her hand and placed it gently on the counter- and then she was in his arms. She stood rigid for a moment, unsure whether it had been her that had hugged him or visa versa, but the need she felt in his embrace told her it had indeed been Jack.

“I didn’t come here because I thought you were sad.” He muttered quietly, still holding her as they rocked slightly against the counter. “I came down here to watch you sleep, Mermaid.”

“But…” Her voice was muffled against his chest as she let her head rest there tiredly. “I thought you were mad at me…”

“I am.” He shrugged non-commitedly, pulling her tighter still. “I’m mad…and I miss you, and I just…I don’t know how to handle this, Mer. I want us to be okay but I don’t know how to do it.” Mercedes felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach…how could he not know? They were Mermaid and Jackie, they had to be okay. They’d always be okay…

“We’ll figure it out.” She said simply, squeezing her arms tighter around his middle and pulling back to study him. “We always figure it out.” Jack nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes.

“Yeah…yeah we do.” He stated simply, placing a chaste kiss on the top of her head and releasing her from the hug. He glanced pointedly at the bottle on the counter.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mercedes shook her head tiredly at his request, straightening her pajama pants and running a hand through tangle, sweat soaked hair.

“Another day.”

“Another day.” He conceded, regarding her with a soft mixture of admiration and affection. The two stood there in the kitchen, a comfortable silence descending upon them. Neither wanted to move and break the momentary truce that had formed there.

Finally Mercedes reached for the bottle on the counter and gave a half-hearted salute to Jack before turning towards the living room.

“Mind if I join you?” The question caught Mercedes off guard and she paused mid stride, the question hanging heavily in the air. Jackie had never been a huge drinker…oh the boy could drink and would when the occasion called for it, but whiskey at five in the morning wasn’t exactly Jack’s style. Still, an unsure smile curved at Mercedes’ lips and she nodded.

“Yeah…alright.”