Tags: kathy and, eric northman is one hot piece, fangirling means srs bsns

Chapter 9

Falling slowly, sing your melody
I'll sing along

He was looking at her in a way that made her heart trip, like a spark jolted it out of rhythm and it had to catch back up. She fought the urge to pinch her arm, to wake herself up and tumble out of the dream she’d fallen into.
If she had even an ounce of courage, she’d lean over, close the gap between them, and kiss that kiss she’d been waiting for since she was thirteen. He nudged her arm again and said something about New York winters having nothing on winters in Detroit and she nodded dumbly. He could say the sky was chartreuse and she’d agree with him; ask her to leap off the building right then and there and she wouldn’t give it a second thought. He grinned – that lazy lopsided grin that got her every time.
Suddenly she became acutely aware of every tiny detail. He couldn’t keep still, his hands constantly moving, drawing in the snow like Mother Nature had provided him with his own personal sketch pad. He was humming softly, lost in the music that seemed to flow through him. The sound was gentle, lulling – totally at odds with the mussed hair, tattered jeans and tattoos.
He’d always been like that – the kid you assumed was trouble, the one that your mother warned you about. Somehow she’s always known that he wasn’t really like that. There was more to him than the smartass who screwed up in class and got sent to detention for smoking in the bathroom. He was kind and funny and sweet – she bit back a laugh. God, he’d never let her live it down if he knew half the things that were running through her brain at that moment. She’d always been accused of over-romanticizing things, of living in a dream world, but when your real world consisted of an emotionally distant father and an overbearing mother, an escape kept you sane.
Her escape was writing and she had a feeling Jack’s was music. She’d never really thought about it before – just how much they have in common. Imagine that – the dork with the glasses and the cat and the apartment full of books having something in common with the rocker guy who lived his life in moments and took chances. He’d argue that he wasn’t taking any chances at all, she knew that. But he was. She didn’t think she’d be able to go to New York, get up on stage and pour her heart out to strangers if she’d been through even half of what he’d been through. Courage came in all shapes and sizes.
She seemed to be the world’s biggest scaredy cat at that moment, though. Kiss him! her brain screamed at her. She gave it a mental kick in the butt, telling it to shut up and leave her alone.
“Seeing anyone?” Jack’s deep voice cut through her thoughts and she blinked slowly at him.
“What?” she asked, trying to get her bearings. Did Jack Mercer really just ask her if she was single?
He grinned, drawing a lopsided heart in the last bit of unblemished snow that was laid out before him on the ledge. “Boyfriend? Girlfriend? The usual.”
She felt her cheeks grow hot for the thousandth time that night and shook her head. “No. Not for a while.” Like a year, she thought to herself, remembering her last failed relationship with the too-pretentious-for-his-own-good fifth-year senior she’d met in one of the studio art classes she took to fill up her credit requirements. He was everything she thought she wanted – smart, opinionated, attractive, worldly. And boring and pompous and self-centered and he didn’t like cats. That last one had been the deal breaker.
“You?” She tried to sound causal and she guessed she’d succeeded when he shrugged.
“Nah. No one. It’s been a while, too.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, like a wall had dropped between them. “I want to say not since the shooting, but it seems longer, you know?”
She wasn’t really sure what he meant and decided to just stay silent and let him talk through whatever he needed to talk through.
He brushed the side of his hand through the scribbles he’d painstakingly drawn moments earlier, erasing them; a shower of snow drifting off the side of the building, dispersing in the wind. “I wonder if I’ve ever really been in one to begin with,” he said quietly, looking over the ledge. He left that statement hanging in the air and she felt a moment of panic, a moment where her mind went blank and she struggled for words.
“Um …” she started, drawing the word out as she searched for something, anything to say.
He saved her with a tired laugh. “Almost dying certainly has a way of showing you just how fucked up your life really is. Take you for instance,” he said, motioning toward her and she held her breath, certain he was going to point out her empty existence full of meaningless classes and a cat that loved her because she knew how to open a pull-top can. But he didn’t; instead, what he said surprised her.
“I’ve said more to you in a couple of hours than I’ve said to any other woman in my life, other than Evelyn, of course.” He fished a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it behind his cupped hand, blocking the wind. “I don’t know … I guess I have no idea how to be in a relationship.” He blew out a cloud of smoke and shook his head. “Pathetic, huh?”
Kathy twisted her scarf up in her shaking hands and took a step toward him. “Maybe you just weren’t ready yet.”
“Maybe I never will be.” He laughed again and Kathy felt her heart twist at the defeated sound. He kept talking, his deep voice wrapping around her. “You can take the guy out of the fucked-up childhood, but you can’t take the fucked-up childhood out of the guy.”

XxXxXxXxXx

The fire alarm jolted Jack awake. He raised his head up off the desk, confused. He wasn’t even sure which class he was in. Glancing down, he looked at the book he’d fallen asleep on, hoping for a clue. Math. Great, he groaned. His least favorite class and the one he was most likely to fail. At least the fire alarm bought him a get out of jail free card for the rest of the period. If his luck held out, maybe it was a bomb threat and he could skip the rest of the day and miss the quiz in History he forgot to study for.
Everyone was gathering their stuff to file out into the hallway and out into the parking lot. Kathy was already at the door, her backpack slung over her shoulder, practically toppling her backwards since she had every book known to man crammed into the thing. Glancing over her shoulder, her gaze locked with his and she gave him one of her patented goofy little waves. He couldn’t help grinning but he stopped himself from waving back.
She was waiting for him when he finally dragged his half-asleep ass to the door. Their teacher was by the door, frowning at Jack. He was taking too long, as usual. If it was a real fire, he figured he could muster enough fear to move faster than a snail’s pace, but he wasn’t going to exert himself to stand in the cold for five minutes before being sent back inside.
“Some urgency, please,” Mr. Mitchell pleaded with a sigh. Jack gave him a tired salute before shuffling out the entrance, Kathy by his side.
The alarm was echoing down the hallway, trying in vain to compete with the whoops and hollers of the students celebrating any sort of freedom, however fleeting. He was about to say something to Kathy about trying to decide if he should skip the rest of the day or not when someone slammed into his back, hard. He stumbled into the lockers and knocked Kathy over. She landed on the floor, coming close to being trampled by the kids behind them.
“What the …” Jack started before he saw Matt Wilcox and his idiot friends. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out just who had hit him.
“Well, if it isn’t Queen and King Loser.” Matt’s laugh rivaled a sick donkey’s and he nudged the big guy next to him, giving him his cue to cackle like a moron too. In the last few months, Matt’s pack had grown to five and they all followed him like was the coolest guy in school.
A couple years ago, when he transferred schools after moving in with Evelyn, Jack had trouble with bullies and getting roughed up and picked on in class and after school. That didn’t last long though, not after Bobby cornered one guy who used to beat on him. Bobby broke the kid’s arm. After that, Jack realized he didn’t want to have to rely on his older brother to fight all his battles for him and he tried to toughen up a little. It wasn’t hard once he started to gain some confidence and make some friends. It was nice to not worry about moving to a new school and having to start from scratch every six months or so.
He eventually let down his guard and started to trust people and Steve wound up being his first real friend in as long he could remember. But even still, Jack kept him at an arm’s length about some stuff. Steve was cool, though - he never really asked much about Jack’s past and Jack was happy he didn’t have to share. Kathy was different; she looked at him like she could tell what he was hiding. Sometimes that scared him, but sometimes that also made him feel okay, like he had someone on his side.
So despite building up a not too crappy reputation, being nice to Kathy had painted a big target on Jack’s back as far as Matt Wilcox was concerned. The guy was obsessed with making her life a living hell. He usually backed down when he saw Jack was with her, but that obviously wasn’t an issue for him that day.
The hall was clearing out and a teacher walked by them. “Is there a problem here?” she asked.
Matt clasped a hand on Jack’s shoulder and grinned. “Nope. We’re fine. Right?”
Kathy was struggling to stand up, her backpack weighing her down like an anchor. One of the meatheads reached out to steady her and she flinched slightly. Jack took a step, ready to tell the guy to get his hands off her, but Matt’s grip tightened on his shoulder. “Right, Mercer?” he said.
The teacher was standing there, waiting for an answer. The last thing Jack needed was another afternoon spent in detention. He’d finally finished the last round a couple of days ago and he liked getting home in time to watch some MTV before Evelyn made him do his homework. “Yeah, we’re fine, whatever.”
“Stop dawdling,” the teacher said, her lips pressing into a thin line. Jack’s eyes narrowed. Dawdling? Seriously? Who talked like that?
“We’re right behind you, ma’am,” Matt said, his voice bright with fake sincerity. Jack rolled his eyes, positive the lady was going to see right through it but she just nodded and headed for the exit.
Matt pushed on his shoulder. “Let me go, man,” Jack hissed but Matt just laughed. The guy who helped Kathy still had his hand on her arm and he was steering her as they walked down the hall.
“What’s the plan?” the kid asked. Kathy looked behind her, her gaze locking with Jack’s. She looked scared, which just succeeded in making Jack more pissed.
“Let go of me, asshole.” Jack jabbed his elbow back, nailing Matt in the side. The other boy wheezed and his grip loosened, but he pushed to the side, ramming Jack into the lockers.
“Here’s the fucking plan,” he bit out as he fought against Jack’s struggles. Matt was reaching for the door to the right of the locker he’d dented with Jack’s shoulder. Before he knew what was happening, Jack was shoved into a dark room – the janitor’s closet, judging by the smell of dirty mops and bleach. Kathy was right behind him, tripping over his feet, causing them both to crash to the ground.
He got up as quickly as he could, but the door slammed on him just as his fists smashed into it. “What the hell!” he shouted as he angrily twisted the doorknob. It was locked, either an automatic lock, or Matt had jammed it from the outside.
“Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven with your dog, Mercer! Always knew you losers would hook up!” Matt’s voice was muffled through the heavy wood door and Jack could barely hear it over the blaring fire alarm. That didn’t stop him from shouting back.
“Fuck you, man. I will kick your fucking ass.”

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack gave up on anyone hearing them on the other side of the door. The alarm was still blaring, bouncing off the walls like a ping pong ball gone insane. Plus, everyone was outside anyway, pretending the building was on fire.
“Lights,” Kathy said. “There’s gotta be a light switch around here somewhere.” Her hand smacked into his forehead as she flailed around, groping for the light. “Sorry,” she said, but he didn’t answer.
He was frozen in place. The darkness suddenly had a weight to it, a weight that was descending on him slowly, pushing the air out of his lungs as he fought to keep his knees from buckling.
“Yes!” Kathy yelled out in triumph as she flipped the switch she’d finally found.
The bare bulb in the ceiling came on, revealing just how cramped the space they were stuck in was. But it was barely a flash of light before a crackling sound shot through the tiny room and the bulb burnt out. Jack didn’t even have the strength the laugh at their shitty luck; he was too busy trying to fend off his first full-fledged panic attack in months.
He tried to remember what his shrink told him to do – something about breathing deeply and visualizing his “happy place”, whatever in the hell that meant. He couldn’t even begin to picture anything other than darkness. It was in front of him, behind him, above him, below him … he was drowning in it.
“Jack?” Kathy sounded worried, like it was dawning on her she was trapped in there with a crazy person. She reached out and touched his arm and he jumped back, banging into the metal shelving lining the wall behind him, knocking stuff over as it rocked back and forth, obviously not anchored into the cement wall.
Kathy drew in a breath and he felt her touch his arm again. She had guts, he’d give her that much. He pulled his arm away from her, trying to keep from freaking out and scaring both of them.
“Stupid shit.” A voice hissed behind him and he stumbled forward, tripping as he lurched to the other side of the room.
“Waste of space.” Another voice – this one thin and thready and full of hate. He remembered that voice. “No one wants a dumb fuck like you.”
“Shut up,” he pleaded through clenched teeth, covering his ears as he sank to the floor, unable to block out the memories.
“J-Jack …” Kathy stuttered and he shut his eyes, ashamed that she had to see him like this. If only that fucking alarm would stop …
He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on his knees, hoping that if he could just make himself small enough, he would disappear.
Kathy sat down next to him, his brain registered that much. There wasn’t much room and her shoulder brushed up against his. He wanted to scoot away, to put distance between them, but he had nowhere to go. “Tell me what to do,” she said quietly.
He laughed, the sound tearing from his chest and coming uncomfortably close to sounding like a sob.
“Please, Jack, I mean it. Tell me what to do. What’s wrong?” He could picture her perfectly – her eyes wide and fearful, but completely trusting and naďve. Her hands nervously wringing the hem of her sweater as she chewed on her bottom lip. He latched onto that image, onto the feel of her shoulder leaning lightly against his, and the voices got quieter, fading slightly.
He took a deep breath, wincing as it shuddered into his lungs, certain the sound of his fear and shame echoed around the cramped room. “N-nothing,” he managed to say.
“What?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do.”
“I don’t believe you.” He marveled at the determination in her voice. Any other girl would be pounding on the door to get away from the psycho they were trapped with, but here she was, basically calling him a liar.
He leaned a little bit more to the left, allowing more of his weight to press into her side. He seemed to draw strength from her, like he did when Evelyn would wake him up from a nightmare and sit with him until he fell asleep again. He never thought he’d find someone else like that, someone who helped him fight back the darkness.
She didn’t move, just stayed put in that same spot. Maybe she sensed it too, sensed that what he needed most was just for someone to stick it out with him.
“Is it getting better?” she whispered after a couple of minutes.
“A little,” he admitted, his voice weary. He felt strung out, but the room was finally starting to feel more like a crappy janitor’s closet and less like a deep, bottomless pit. “Sorry you waited for me when the alarm went off?” he asked, realizing she’d be in the parking lot if it wasn’t for him, probably reading a book, waiting to be let back inside.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now,” she said.
“Right,” Jack said with a tired laugh.
She rested her head on his shoulder, her frizzy hair tickling his cheek. Her voice was so quiet, he barely heard her. “I mean it, Jack.”

XxXxXxXxXx

“I forgot about that,” Kathy said and he laughed, shaking his head.
“You’re a lousy liar.” He finished his cigarette, grinding it out on the ledge, tossing it down onto the city street below. “I was a mess.”
“No you weren’t,” she protested but he shrugged.
“Still am,” he said with a tired grin, looking over his shoulder at her.
She moved closer, leaning against the ledge, mimicking his stance, the way his forearms rested on the brick wall and he kept kicking at the snow with the toe of his motorcycle boots. She dangled the ends her scarf in front of her, tossing them back and forth in the wind. “Nobody’s perfect, Jack.”
He was watching her, she could sense it on the back of her neck and a tingling crept up from the pit of her stomach, spreading through her like a match dropped in kerosene. “Perfect is pretty boring,” she continued, hoping he couldn’t hear the nerves that had crept up her throat, threatening to steal her voice.
He moved closer and she turned to face him. His head was tilted and his eyes had that kind of cute, confused look he got sometimes. He grinned slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Reaching out, he tucked her hair behind her ear. She held her breath as his finger trailed over her cheek and down her shoulder, coming to rest on top of her hand. He picked up the end of her scarf, the one with a fringe made out of a dozen different colors of yarn, the one she knew he thought was ridiculous.
His voice was deeper than ever and she felt it down to her toes when he spoke, certain the roof of her building shook with each word. “Yeah, perfect is boring as hell.”
Tugging on the scarf, he pulled her closer and leaned down, closing the gap between them. Kathy closed her eyes and …


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