breakdowns can create breakthroughs

[jason andrew irving]

Jason had always been the easygoing sort of guy that he was; he was never in much of a hurry to do anything. He didn’t mind sitting around and just relaxing, he had always thought it was the perfect way to spend a weekend, especially after a tough week at school. And the past week had been rather hard for him. It seemed like every one of his classes, both easy and hard, had been testing this week. And tests required study time and study time took away from the time he spent with Ana. That wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed doing, especially when he was studying for one of his harder, medical classes. Not understanding things tended to make him crabby and he hated taking out his irritation on his girlfriend. When it came to studying for his difficult classes, he tended to shut himself in their spare bedroom for hours on end.

It was kind of nice to have two spare bedrooms; as of right now, one was a guest bedroom, just in case anyone decided to pop in for a visit, and the other had a daybed of sorts in it along with a large desk. It was more of a study room than a bedroom, but it was there in case they had a few unexpected guests. His family didn’t live in the area and if both his parents could get the same time off of work, it wouldn’t surprise him if they showed up with his brother.

Weekends happened to be Jason’s favorite part of the week because studying was pushed aside, even if he had a test of some sort on Monday. Studying was done Sunday nights. Friday and Saturday were for Annie and their time together, nothing more. So now, sitting with Annie in his arms was the perfect way to relieve his stress from the past week. Whatever they had been watching on TV had been slowly pushed from his mind as they had gone from just cuddling on his squishy, leather sofa to a few soft kisses. Those kisses had turned into something more, completely distracting him from the show that had been on. As they had stretched out to take up the whole couch, he had knocked the remote to the ground, laughing quietly as he heard the soft clunk. His hands had started up underneath the hem of her shirt, but as he shifted his weight, he followed the remote to the ground, laughing harder as his hand smacked the remote and changed the channel. Bouncing to his knees, he leaned over to her and kissed her ear. “Why don’t we go upstairs?” Murmuring in her ear, he laughed again. It had taken some time when they had first started dating for him to remember that she hated it when he whispered against her.

He grabbed the remote and shut off the television before standing up from his awkward position on the floor and taking his girlfriend’s hands. He pulled her small body up off of the couch and gave her a short but deep kiss before leading her up the stairs. Had it been a few months prior, she wouldn’t have had to walk up the steps, he could have carried her, but he hadn’t completely regained his strength after the wreck since he really hadn’t worked out since then. Only when they got to the landing at the top of the stairs did he pick her up, careful not to run her into any walls. That was something he did to himself more than enough, he didn’t want to make a hospital run for her because of him.

It didn’t take long to get from the landing to their bedroom and he laid her down on the bed, kneeling over her as he did so. One leg on either side of her body, he kept his weight on his knees, resting his elbows along side her shoulders and running his fingers through her long, blond locks. He found it funny that he hadn’t been with her quite six months yet and this happened more often than it did in his two year relationship. He swore Anabel had some sort of curse over him - it seemed like she could get him to do anything. Laughing quietly for a moment, he pressed his lips against hers again; it was a feeling he couldn’t quite get enough of. Maybe that was why this tended to happen as often as it did.

tags; Anabel Bailey
wearing; click
notes; I don’t really like the way it started,
but it turned out okay.

[ana isabel bailey]

Annie looked as ready for summer as she was. Dressed in the same t-shirt and short shorts she had worn to the beach that morning, the scent of the salty lake still in her hair, she was settled into the soft cushions of the couch with a warm presence beside her. He was sort of like summertime, hot and with a sunny disposition, at least to her way of thinking. It was a bit of a relief from the intense studying for next week's exams. And then it would be summer. No more lectures, no more thick chapters to read about things that meant nothing to her, and perhaps best of all more time with her aspiring doctor boyfriend. After this summer she knew med school was going to pretty much take him away from her. She wasn't looking forward to it, but it was what it was. They'd probably just attack each other like animals when he did have a break from studying. At least now they had time for each other, she knew that would fast come to an end. Starting this next semester she'd get a taste of what it was like to be a doctor's wife.

Reaching a delicate hand up and turning his eyes away from the TV she placed her gentle lips against his. She let him go and curled back against him only to have his fingers guide her chin back to face him and returning the favor. Before long their silly childish play had grown more intense and their show was neglected as they kissed and touched. She smiled slightly as the remote fell to the floor and his fingers slid beneath her t-shirt, her jacket already beneath her. And then suddenly he was gone and there was a thump. Sitting up and composing herself she looked at her boyfriend, unsuccessfully stifling a giggle. "Well at least you didn't hit your head this time," she teased him with a coquettish smile. She genuinely feared that one of these days he was going to fall off the couch or their bed and they'd end up hobbling into the emergency room, their clothing all disheveled and their hair messy.

She smiled as he rested his head beside hers and moved their heads so their jaw bones touched as he kissed her ear and murmured a suggestion that quite pleased her. He really didn't need an answer and pulled away, looking at her. He was most attractive with his glasses half fogged over, his hair all disheveled, and his shirt half unbuttoned from her quick fingers, a bit of dark hair exposed. She laughed lightly with the thought that she'd take him right there, on the floor. She offered him her hands and slung her feet over the side of the couch, standing and feeling his full lips crush down on hers, his kiss holding back an animalistic desire as he pulled away and lead her with him upstairs. One day he'd carry her, but in the mean time she didn't mind making her own way. It might not be as romantic but it was reality, their reality.

She was surprised however when he swept her up when they reached the landing, Annie moving her head up to his shoulder in an act that appeared affectionate but was really just saving herself injury. She knew he didn't mean to, but there were a couple times her head got a bit too close for comfort. The soft protection of their bed, so long as neither of them hit their head against the headboard, was a welcome relief. Her body relaxed back against it as he kissed her and played with her hair. He'd become a bold but tender lover with her. Tonight she just let him have his way, she didn't stop him, didn't take control.

As his lips enjoyed the contours of her torso, she watched him placidly, arching her back like a cat with pleasure when he found a sensual spot. Half purring with enjoyment she returned to the task of the last remaining buttons on his shirt and then slid her own hands beneath its open front. She glided her hands down and then up again, beginning to run her hands to his back, her right hand coursed over the scar on his side. He shifted away from her in a way that had nothing to do with pain. She pulled her hands away completely, suddenly no longer so caught up in the heat of the moment. She swallowed, her eyes on the ceiling. She'd thought at least in this area he was ok, but maybe he wasn't after all. The accident had affected so many parts of his life; she almost wanted a less complicated relationship. It was overwhelming at times.

Slowly her own body recoiled in the same way his had and she stared at him as he seemed to realize something was up. "Jason," she began, licking her bottom lip, "Why did you move away from me like that?" She slid her body up a bit, still beneath him, at least for the moment, but slightly more face to face. Maybe she was making something out of nothing, maybe he'd just give her a kiss on the nose and they would again fall into the kind of bliss that only lust could fuel, and yet judging by his face, he hadn't wanted her to ask.


wearing: bright and sunny
comments: yes, mine got a bit odd too.
lyrics: rick springfield

[jason andrew irving]

He was taking his time, enjoying himself as he played with her hair, his dark eyes looking into hers with a mixture of love and lust. He could still smell the beach in her long, blond hair. It had been a fantastic way to spend the majority of the day and he wasn’t complaining about the way the last of the day seemed to be going. After a moment, he sat up, always careful not to place too much of his weight on her smaller body. Laughing as he thought about when he last tried to do this, his fingers started under her shirt again. It was a good thing their bed was much wider than the couch, as this proved to be hard for him to do in a limited space. Careful with his hands, he slid them up her body, the shirt riding up with them and only with her adjusting her body did it find its way completely off, Jason tossing it on the floor beside the bed before his hands slid behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra.

His hands left her for a short moment as he reached towards his face and slid his glasses off his face, setting them on the dresser beside their bed. It wasn’t often that he’d wear them all day long, but he had worn them to the beach and just left them on when they got home. As he rested his body back on hers, he kissed her lips briefly before he slid his body downwards, letting his lips play across her skin. It had taken a few times, but once he realized what she liked, he learned quickly and became much more audacious each time their clothes had found their way to the ground. A content chuckle slipped from him as her fingers unfastened the buttons on his shirt they hadn’t managed to get to on the couch. The feeling of her fingers against his bare skin was something he couldn’t get enough of. He sighed quite happily as she slid her hands back, loving the way it felt. He could feel himself aching with desire at her touch.

Not really realizing he did it, he flinched as her hand brushed against the two, nearly identical scars that ran down his side and a questioning look crossed his face as her hands seemed to drop away from his body. Hardly a moment later, his lips had stopped caressing her body, his eyes turning to her face and studying her expression closely as she seemed to pull away from him. Her eyes weren’t on him, they were on the ceiling as she tended to do when she wasn’t sure about something. Something was wrong, but he didn’t quite understand what. The way she said his name told him something was wrong and the short pause between that and her actual question had him thinking even more. Tilting his head slightly to the right, he gave her a puzzled look, thinking back a few seconds. Had he really pulled away from her? Yes, he had flinched, and now that he realized it, he wished she hadn’t noticed, but then again, he’d be an idiot to think that after living with her for months she’d miss something as obvious as his body jumping beneath her touch. “I didn’t realize I did,” he said slowly, his eye brows furrowing slightly.

It must have been some sort of reflex his body came up with or something of that sort since he was so aware of the surgery scars lining his side. He hated them and perhaps it was just a subconscious way of him not wanting anyone to see them, to feel them. At least she hadn’t pushed him to take his shirt off while they were at the beach. It was a little uncomfortable wearing a dark shirt in the sun, even one with no sleeves, but he didn’t want to wear anything that would become see-through when it got soaked. Nor did he want to see the strangers’ eyes catching sight of his bare side and see the mixed expressions hidden in their eyes. The curiosity, the sympathy and the disgust. Ana was the only person he was comfortable enough to be around with his shirt off, and now he was questioning himself even on that level.

Shrugging, he grinned a lopsided grin and kissed her deeply. He wasn’t the type of guy who was going to push her into having sex with him if she didn’t want to, but right now, he just wanted to push aside the brief, unsettling moment that had happened and hope she’d forget about it if they continued where they had been interrupted. Breaking off the kiss, he sat upright and started to unbutton her shorts, knowing she’d stop him if she no longer wanted this right now.

[ana isabel bailey]

Still panting with desire she stared at him, her eyes with a questioning quality, her lips parted. Her body squirmed beneath him, still wanting him quite badly, but feeling this needed to be settled. The way his body had moved to avoid her touch bothered her. Sure it was a sensitive area, but so were many other parts of him and it seemed he quite liked it when her fingers traveled there. Again squirming at the thought she wished he'd just answer her. As his thick, dark eyebrows drew together her lips twitched and she let out a little sigh, "But you did," she told him wearily, sounding almost like a small child, a hurt look across her delicate features as she stared at him pitifully.

Anabel just didn't get it. He had no reason to be bothered by her seeing or feeling it. She'd made every effort to show him that she was ok with his scars, that that was just a part of him. She'd scarcely seen him without them frankly. Jason had taken things so slow with her until she'd gotten his shirt off once, maybe twice before the accident and even then she hadn't seen much. In her mind, Jason had a line, and now two, running down the length of his side. He shouldn't care around her and it bothered her that he did. Anyone else sure, but not her. She loved him, she cared about him, she found him attractive despite the scars. He should be ok with her, ever subconsciously.

A crooked smile fell across his lips and he wiped it away by touching their fleshy dark pinkness to Ana's and she half melted beneath the firm, desirous pressure of his kiss. He tasted so good, felt so wonderful. She couldn't bring herself to push him back off and make them talk. It was no big deal really, now was it? Well, it kind of was still, but she had a man atop her that was quite willing to make love to her that very minute. Argument or sex, argument or sex? The decision really wasn't hard. But as his body left hers and his fingers worked the little metal button on her jeans her feelings rose again to the surface and she again recoiled from him. She wasn't some silly girl that couldn't control herself. She was an adult for goodness sake, she could say something, and she would.

"No," she said, "No." She pulled her half-naked body from beneath his weight, pulling her legs to her body as though she were trying to protect herself from him. It was silly, Jason was not the type to force her into letting him have her. He wouldn't be enthused quite understandably, but he'd certainly not demand it of her or worse. She settled her little chin on the groove between her knees, her breasts pressing against her legs. She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, praying his tongue wouldn't be slick or worse his hands would again begin to run over her. She couldn't stop him twice, her will was not that strong.

She pressed her forehead into the valley between her limbs, ignoring the whoosh whoosh in her ears and the ill feeling that was filling her stomach. "I," she faltered, swallowing roughly, her throat dry, before slowly lifting her head, "I know you didn't mean it. But honey, I'm worried that's just the problem." She watched his face for any signs he might show that he was mad or unphased or willing to listen, anything, but everything about him seemed so blank in that moment. She dropped her head back into the little valley, sideways this time, "I worry all the time about what it did to you," she muttered quietly, the it an understood replacement for the accident.

[jason andrew irving]

She squirmed uncomfortably and he pulled his body back, sitting on his knees over top of her. He didn’t understand why she was so worried. It was just the way his brain worked now, and how ever much he wished he could shut off his self-consciousness when it came to her, it seemed to center around his scars. He tilted his head again as she insisted he pulled away and he again wondered how badly he had shifted his body. Maybe she did have a reason to be concerned if he could pull away from her without really realizing he did it. The hurt look on her face struck him, it wasn’t like he was blowing off the subject. Shifting his body forwards on her again, he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead gently.

A soft, unhappy sigh slid from him as she refused him, repeating her words. As she pulled away, tucking her legs up under her, a slightly hurt look crossed his face and he slid away so he wasn’t touching her, raising his hands ever so slightly, almost like a robber faced with a cop. It wasn’t an offended gesture, he was just trying to make her more comfortable as she scooted away, almost fearful in a way. He wasn’t ever going to force her to do something she didn’t want to do, and the way she tucked herself up into a ball, it was like she was shielding herself from him. Of course he didn’t want to stop, her fingers had a way of arousing him rather quickly, but he wasn’t going to push her. His eyes studied hers, his eyebrows once again knitting together.

Sighing again, he glanced away from her as she brought up the accident, saying he worried her, his eyes just barely glazing over. He hated to talk about it; when he pushed the memories away, he felt like a child, unable to face the truth. Turning his eyes back to her, a tiny smile crossed his face. He reached over to take her hand, a little uneasy about how she’d react after she pulled away from him. “Hey, I’m alive,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t a little fender bender, but I’m fine. Don’t worry.” His dark eyes looked deep into hers, an honest look in them. Behind the concern, there was a slightly haunted look. The wreck had affected him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

In fact, he had been having vivid nightmares on and off for a while. He wasn’t sure if she had picked up on them, if she had associated the days he woke up tired with the days he was a bit more nervous when he drove. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked over at her, still full of desire even now. No, it wasn’t as bad as it had been previously, but he could still feel the taste of her lips on his. His face turned concerned when she pressed her head to her knees, unsure why she was suddenly acting like this. As he took in her words, his expression fell blank, unsure what to say. Glancing down at his knees for a moment, he moved his hands to his shirt and started to button it up where Ana had worked to get it off.

She shifted her position, her head sideways and her words stunned him even more. Was he really that badly shaken? He thought he had been getting better; he could drive with one hand on the wheel now. Most of the time. And night driving wasn’t nearly as hard as it had been. He bit his bottom lip and dropped his gaze to the floor for a split second before he looked over at her again and scooted closer, wrapping his arms around her naked torso. “I’m okay. Really. Things…they just take time,” he said slowly. He hated to admit, yes, months later he was still a little nervous, and yes, he figured he’d be back to normal by now, but he didn’t want her to worry about him. She didn’t have to. Even though there were a few things that still bothered him, his scars being one of them, he was - for the most part - okay. He assumed the only reason his scars really bothered him was because they reminded him of what had happened. If he didn’t have the scars, it would just be a memory; they were like a permanent reminder of the wreck, always haunting him.

Jason slid his arms from around her, his fingertips sliding down her sides, unable to help himself. Glancing over the bed, he bent over and pulled her shirt and her bra from the floor, offering them to her. Her half nakedness was taking away from the seriousness of their conversation, though in a way, he’d rather have it like that. Giving her a half smile, his gaze dropped downwards again. “What do you want me to do, then?” He hated to see her unhappy, especially when it was his own fault. He could try whatever it was that she wanted, right? After her shirt was back on, he pulled her against him, the feeling of her body comforting. Resting a couple fingers on her chin, he tilted her head up slightly, his dark eyes looking into hers. “Ana, I love you and I don’t want you to be so worried about me. Okay?” He spoke sincerely, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head slightly when he said ‘okay’. Smiling slightly, he tipped her chin up a little bit more and place a sweet, short kiss on her lips before dropping his fingers, entwining them with hers. “No, I’m not perfect, but I’m alive. And I have you. I think I’m doing pretty good, then.”

[ana isabel bailey]

Annie pursed her lips and let her fair eyebrows furrow a bit as she stared at him. Perhaps she could have been a bit more delicate about stopping him but men never took that sort of thing easily, which was why she didn't make a habit of it. She really didn't know why she'd curled up into a ball like this. She supposed it seemed more comfortable than sitting there with her bare body almost completely exposed. This was a kind of serious discussion, one that she didn't want to have so... naked. Pulling her hand out of her hair where his had been moments before she brushed her fingers over her forehead where he had kissed her. How could any one man treat her like such a princess. She didn't deserve it at all. What she deserved was someone that just used her, not someone so tender, so sweet.

She looked his chest up and down, eying the curling bits of hair and the fine contours of his stomach. She jerked her eyes away rapidly. How was it possible that she could want to jump his bones and burst into tears all at the same time. Massaging her temple against her knee she watched his eyes look away into nothingness and become blank. Any time it came up this was what he did: close up and ignore whatever it was that was coming to his mind. That wasn't healthy and she knew it. In case Jason had missed something, he was dating a girl that had taken multiple classes on mental health in addition to spending time in therapy herself. At least in this area she was not dense. He couldn't pull the wool over her eyes.

That didn't stop him from trying. She of course knew why he did. He didn't want to look weak, not in front of her. He pulled her hand from where it held her calf, squeezing her fingertips. "Jason," she said weakly, his name breaking into fractured syllables, "Alive isn't worth settling for. Don't you want more than that?" She brushed her fingers against his, a melancholy look on her face, "I do," she muttered. She remembered the way she'd dropped her head against the unaffected part of his chest when he'd come out of surgery, several months ago now when all this had started, and just cried for sure relief he was still alive. Now she'd come to realize it was about more than him just being alive; she wanted him to be living the life he had.

Leaning back against a fluffy pillow she gazed at him, her body coming undone a bit so she was less guarded from him. Curling and uncurling her toes her lips twitched. He could argue and say he was living life to the fullest, but he wasn't. He still seemed nervous when he drove and he continued to avoid the intersection that had truly exposed just how messed up he still was. Rubbing a hand against her ankle she looked down at a bruise that was nearly gone. Jason had kicked her there, not intentionally of course, but in his sleep. It had been a hard enough assault that she'd woken up and when she did she'd hoped it was just a dream. He was tossing and turning, groaning and muttering things that didn't make much sense to her. It had scared her to watch him but she did for a few minutes before waking him up. Even though his chest was rising and falling rapidly and his body was covered in sweat she hadn't said anything. She had just given him a little kiss, told him it was just a bad dream and rolled away. What else could she do but let him go back to sleep?

As he scooted closer to her and wrapped her up in his arms she relaxed against him. He wasn't trying to seduce her so it didn't really matter. She pressed herself against him, dropping her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious, as he always did. It was more than just his soap or shampoo, it was like he just plain smelled good to her, in a comforting sort of way. She nodded her head against his skin, "I know," she breathed, "But I think this could be a lot easier on you, if you'd let it." She didn't really want to say the word psychologist. There was something about that word that seemed to scare people. It shouldn't, in all reality having a shrink was not bad at all, but most people would be afraid of admitting they had some sort of problem. Seeing a therapist was considered by most to be admitting you were "crazy." Annie knew it wouldn't be easy to convince her boyfriend that she wasn't calling him nuts by suggesting such a thing.

She stretched her body out in delight as his fingers stroked down her skin, releasing her from his hold. She took her bra and t-shirt from him when he handed them to her, setting the shirt down as she slid into the bra, reaching behind herself to secure the clasp. Picking up her shirt, she slid it over her head, further messing up her hair, and as soon as she'd released the hem Jason's arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him with ease. She molded herself against his side and answered in response to what she wanted him to do, "You won't like it." She let him tilt up her chin, murmuring sweet words that made her want to melt. Then she shook her head just slightly, "It's my job to worry, Jason. Because I love you." She let his prepossessing lips take hers and then let them go, his fingers leaving her chin but her head remaining tilted up, fixated on him as he told her more loving words. She placed a hand on his neck and this time kissed him of her own volition. "Yes," Ana said as she pulled back, "I know. I just... well, I really think maybe... well, maybe seeing someone, I mean, a, uh, a therapist. I think it might be good for you." Getting it out had been a big tough, but he would listen to her. He wouldn't take it out of context or misinterpret what she was suggesting, not like she had done when her mother had made her do the same thing when she was a troubled teenager.

[jason andrew irving]

The way that she spoke his name, breaking it apart without really trying, stunned him again. Was he really that bad? He had been about to argue that he was doing more than living, even if it wasn’t the same way he had been before the wreck. He had just been trying to make a point instead of bluntly saying he could have easily died that night, that he had come so close to it. He hadn’t known it at the time, but he had been told when he blacked out on the way into the hospital, his body had gone into shock. When Ana said that she wanted more for him was when he sat in silence instead of arguing his point. She looked so miserable he couldn’t argue.

Her expression made him want to cry since it was his fault she was upset and as she uncurled her body slightly, his gaze followed hers down to where her fingers were resting. If they hadn’t spent so much time together in the same house, he might have missed the section on her ankle that was slightly discolored and his fingers slid from her hand to run over it gently. “What happened?” he murmured quietly, knowing he was the one who usually ended up with random bruises on his body. A horrified look crossed his face and he jerked his hand away from her like he had been shocked when she told him what happened. He had done that to her because of his twisted, messed up mind. Wrapping his arms around his own midsection, he sighed sadly. “I guess I’m sleeping in the other room, then,” he spoke quietly. If he was leaving bruises on her in his sleep, he had to. He didn’t want to hurt her.

Jason turned his head so it was facing away from her, a hand brushing across his face before he composed himself, sliding his body closer to her. Even though he assumed she wouldn’t, he hoped she had missed him wiping the tears from his face. He had been leaving bruises on her without even knowing it. Were there any more? How often did it happen? As she rested her head against his neck, he sighed again. It didn’t feel right for her to curl up against him after he heard that he left a bruise on her ankle, but he needed her even more now. Her breath against his neck tickled slightly, but it relaxed him in the tiniest way. Hearing her words, his eyebrows furrowed curiously, even though her face was buried against him. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant. How could he let this be easier? It’s not like he was trying to drag out the aftermath of the accident.

A weak smile crossed his face as she seemed to enjoy it as his fingers danced down her sides and not for the first time he wished the conversation had been pushed aside until they had finished what they started, but there was no point in even pushing it now. He was far from in the mood. Watching her slip her clothes back on, it seemed to help the seriousness of their conversation and he pulled her against him once again; he needed to know what she wanted him to do. Shrugging as she said he wouldn’t like her suggestion, he told her what he thought of the matter, meaning everything he said completely. Another small smile crossed his face when she said she worried because she loved him and if the roles had been switched, he knew he would feel the exact same way. Her hand on his neck was a welcome, comfortable feeling. She seemed to trip over her words as she tried to get out what she was saying and when she did, his body became still, uncomfortable.

It wasn’t often Jason was at a loss of words, but right now there were so many thoughts flowing in and out of his mind, he didn’t know which ones to say, which ones even made sense. After a moment of complete silence, he sighed as he finally wrapped his mind around the most important thoughts that had been frantically chasing each other around. Speaking delicately so she wouldn’t think he was angry, he looked down at the bottom of his shorts. “Why would I talk to someone I don’t even know about it when you-don’t…even know…” His words faded away and he bit his lower lip uneasily. He hadn’t even told her everything that had happened on that night, just that he had seen the headlights coming at his car. She didn’t know how much more he remembered before he actually blacked out. Why would he tell someone else when he couldn’t tell the person closest to him? Now that he had admitted that she didn’t know everything, it was like an open invitation for her to ask him what had happened and he wasn’t quite sure she’d want to hear it.

For the first time, he let the memories flow without fighting them back, blocking them out. His eyes glazed over as he remembered everything, the headlights by his door, the tooth-gritting sound of the metal crushing metal, the shattering glass falling all over him, his head cracking against the car frame hard enough to split his head open, to knock him out, and most of all, the absolute terror he felt. Blinking rapidly, pushing it away again, he slid his arms from around Annie, pulling his legs up to his chest and imitating her earlier position, his forehead pressing into his knees. His hand slid up to his left temple, brushing underneath his dark curls to where there was a scar from the impact. Anytime someone mentioned the accident or asked him how he was doing, insinuating they were talking about the wreck, his hand always found it’s way there subconsciously. Why would she want to know what all he had been going through? She was already so concerned, wouldn’t hearing all of that make her only worry more?

[ana isabel bailey]

Ana scowled when he asked about her bruise, debating if she should lie. That was probably the better option to spare him, but she wasn't in the mood to be dishonest. What if more showed up later? Watching his tanned fingers stroke her ankle gently, she recognized how good of a doctor he would be. Swallowing, she dismissed the thought and met his eyes, "You kicked me the other night, in your sleep." She recoiled as he did, watching him as he told her they would no longer share a bed. "It's just a little spot. I've gotten worse, and on purpose," she told him with a frown. Some boys had left her with marks on purpose and not cared and here he was, worried about a bruise that hadn't even been intentional. She wanted to reach out to him, but as he drug a hand down the side of his face she stopped. She didn't want to make it obvious she knew he was crying. If there was one thing Annie had mastered in her many relationships it was that a man's ego couldn't and shouldn't be hurt.

It wasn't so much how Jason was living now that bothered her. Now, yes, he was ok, at least for the most part. In the capacity of her boyfriend he was fine. She could handle his madness and deal with his quirks. It was fine, not a big deal. She was worried about how things would be further down the road, when their lives became more complicated with jobs and children and trying to stay married. They couldn't afford to have him freak out on her or panic at an intersection with a screaming baby in the backseat. Things would just get worse if he didn't release this now and that would take a lot more than just his will to accomplish. Ana knew. She'd not been traumatized in the same sort of way, but she suspected that she would hold an even more bitter hostility toward her dad than she did now not to mention she wouldn't be sitting here in a monogamous relationship with Jason if she hadn't had help.

Ana's fingers swirled in little circles at the back of his neck, playing with the little curly hairs in a rather absent minded way. As his expression grew blank her fingers slowly stopped and she swallowed. Anabel, she thought to herself, Why don't you just get your mouth sown shut? Annie was coming to realize she had the biggest, fatest mouth ever. It wasn't just a problem of not thinking before she spoke, it was just talking in general even when she did think. She never said the right thing, ever. The last time she'd said something completely at the wrong time she'd pretty blatantly mentioned the fact that she and Jason had a rather active sex life to his ex-girlfriend. Not that the current moment was such a testament to this. Make-up sex, perhaps?

Leaning back a bit so she wasn't so close to him as he stared blankly at the hem of his pants, she gulped. Was he really that upset? Setting a hand on his thigh she looked hesitantly up at him, her eyebrows drawing together as he said she didn't know everything. Well of course she didn't, she hadn't been in the car so she couldn't know everything. Only what he had told her and it was fine that it wasn't a second by second detailed explanation. She would listen if that would make him happy, if it would help him, even though she didn't really want to, inwardly. She'd never been in a truly bad car wreck and she didn't really want to experience one through what he told her. She knew from the injuries he had incured and seeing the car before he'd had to sell it for scrap metal and what parts were left. Anabel wanted nothing more than to have let it be herself and not him, but it was what it was. It had happened, there was nothing either of them could to to change it, only keep it from tearing him apart.

Maybe she needed to know though. Maybe that would help her to understand why it affected him the way it did. This was so much more than a fear of driving and a complex about his body. It ran deeper than she even knew she realized as he curled his body into the fetal position. He was withdrawing from her and his own thoughts, that were clearly on the wreck as his fingers caressed the little welt where there had once been several little threads, keeping his skin together. She'd lovingly called him Jasonstein she remembered as she debated pulling away herself. He was scaring her so badly right now, she couldn't bring herself to touch him, to reach out to him when he needed her most. What kind of girlfriend was she that she couldn't even support her man? This weakness though, it was frightening and not something she wanted to witness. He was strong, or at least most of the time. The woman was the only one to cry she'd always been taught, seeing something else was disconcerting.

comments: I did this in chunks, so if it flows weird, I'm sorry. And sorry it took forever. My muse was like in China or something.

[jason andrew irving]

Jason’s eyes narrowed slightly, a cold look crossing his face as she told him others had intentionally left bruises on her. He wouldn’t leave them on her anymore, even accidentally. Shaking his head slowly from side to side, he exhaled a long breath. “That bruise might not be bad, but what about the next one?” He could end up hitting her in an area that bruised easier or if he swung the wrong way, she could wake up with a bloody nose or a black eye. If he did that to her, he’d probably curl up in a ball and die; he couldn’t risk hurting her like that.

Watching her eyebrows furrow when he told her she really didn’t know what exactly had happened during the wreck, he sighed and dropped his gaze down to her hand resting on his leg. He traced the top of her hand with his finger, following the bones beneath the skin. “You don’t have to know,” he mumbled, giving her a tiny smile. He hadn’t meant that she needed to know, just pointing out that he hadn’t told her everything.

Frowning, he thought about what she said about seeing a psychologist again. Even though he really didn’t want to admit it, maybe it would be helpful and if she insisted… He wrapped his fingers around hers, his gaze resting on her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he started off, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand. “But, Ana, people…professionals have lost their jobs when they went to see a shrink.” Stupid psychology class. Of all the useless information they learned in that class, that had to be one of the facts that stuck with him. “Stupid, I know, but when people hear ‘psychologist’ they think of crazy people who talk to themselves,” a small, lopsided grin crossed his face “And even though I only do that in my sleep…” he laughed slightly, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. He hated stressful conversations and it was just the way he was; attempting to joke around when things got too tense.

If he was still stressing out over the wreck months after it happened, he had a feeling she was right, that he’d need to see a therapist if he wanted to actually be able to sleep without striking out. Even if it could possibly risk his career, wouldn’t it be better in the long run? Maybe he’d actually be able to drive past Murphy’s without having a breakdown. Besides, it would be nice to go to bed at night without worrying about what his dreams might hold. Sometimes, he thought the nightmares were worse than the actual experience; in them, he saw things he hadn’t really seen. There were only two nightmares he had, but they reoccurred more than once. In one, it took him a while to black out in the car and all he really felt was the blood running down his forehead, his lightheadedness and the pure terror as he thought he was dying. After that, it was pretty realistic, following the train of events that had actually happened with a dreamlike twist on a few of them. Only towards the end did the dream really take a turn for a worse, when he was in a silver room on a cold, metallic table; the operating room with a person dressed in all white with a surgical mask on. He’d see the small blade in his hand make it’s way to his side and when it touched him, he’d always jolt awake, shaking and covered in sweat.

The other was much worse; he actually died in it and turned into a ghost, seeing himself in his broken car from a bystander’s view. His ghostlike form would always stare at his shattered car in shock until the flashing lights of the ambulance appeared and only then would he make his way over to the vehicle and look at his broken form. His transparent hand would reach out towards his own neck and feel the lack of a pulse, sending him backing away from the car in shock. Then, everything would shift. He’d be standing outside of his house watching a cop walk up to his door and, of course, Ana would answer to get the news he was dead. He’d try to comfort her, but being a ghost, he couldn’t, and then the dream would basically rewind and start all over. Seeing her suffer, even in a nightmare, was terrible, sending shivers up his spine when he finally woke up.

After a few deep breaths, he managed to relax a bit, pulling his thoughts back to the present. Jason’s knees were still tucked up to his chest and he turned his head sideways, resting his cheek on his knees as he looked at her, biting his bottom lip uneasily. This was hurting her, it was obvious, and he hated that. Sliding next to her, his dark eyes looked into hers, watching her expression for a moment before he pressed his lips to hers, his hand sliding through her hair as he gave her a long, deep kiss. “Ana, I love you…” he said slowly as he pulled away, not quite sure how he wanted to word what he was thinking, his gaze dropping from her face to her feet. “…but…if you want someone…if I…” frowning, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “If this is too much, I understand,” he finally said quietly, not quite sure what her reaction would be. Would she be shocked that he even said that or would she breathe a sigh of relief and run towards the door? Though he didn’t expect her to, he wouldn’t blame her if she did the latter; this wasn’t the kind of thing he expected her to live with, no matter how much he loved her. He needed her, but if she was too stressed, he could let her go; to him, it was more important that she was happy.

[ana isabel bailey]

As his finger brushed over the fine bones of her tiny pale hand, following each from its base along the carpals up their arches to her fingers. She slowly turned her hand over beneath his, her slim little fingers turning to grip a couple of his fingers. She gave a little nod of her blond head when he said she didn't have to know and let out the breath she'd been holding unconsciously. She swallowed, having nothing to say to that. What was she going to say, Good, because I don't want to. That wasn't a very nice thing to say in general, never mind as his girlfriend, no matter how true it might be. She cared, just not enough to want to hear the tale. It was like asking a rape victim to describe their experience. No matter how empathetic one was they still didn't want to hear every last detail.

A delicate shudder ran down her spine as his fingers curled around hers and she squeezed them back. She felt unsure with Jason, for the first time, and it was scary. The security he gave her was the one thing she'd always had to hold onto, knowing he wasn't the kind of guy that would cheat on her or toss her aside and to Annie that meant quite a lot. To her, security had not included sanity, though now she was starting to think that maybe it should, that maybe being in a relationship with a man that was on the edge of losing his sanity, or maybe past the edge, was toxic to not only her but especially him. He had so much to figure out right now, she wasn't wholly sure that he should have her as a complication.

Pushing her thoughts aside when he mentioned his concerns about the shrink suggestion, she nodded a bit, ignoring his try to lighten the mood. He always tried, even in the most terrible of situations, but Ana didn't always acknowledge them, only when she was truly desperate. She had a shocking placidity about this discussion, perhaps because she had seen it coming for some time. She'd hoped he'd take the necessary steps on his own, but it just wasn't working and now she knew why. Gazing at their entwined fingers she shook her head, "I don't care about that, I don't. I care about you and having you back again." She disengaged her hand from his and lifted it up to brush the dark locks of hair that framed his face back.

She watched him tense and his eyes glaze over, at first thinking it was her only to realize he'd slid into thought, goodness knew what of. Her hand slowly fell and she folded them in her lap carefully, dropping her head to stare at them. It was a few minutes before he snapped out of it, his body still curled in a ball. She looked up from her silence to see his eyes staring at her. Offering a delicate smile she slowly dropped her eyes back down with a breathy sigh as though her hands were dreadfully boring but there was no better alternative. Feeling the bed bounce as he unraveled himself and moved to sit next to her she looked back up again with a dim stare.

Suddenly he leaned closer and the warm pressure of his lips was on hers and his long fingers were combing through her hair. Her hands rested on the soft plaid of his shorts, just above his knees, squeezing the flesh as she leaned nearer with a muffled whimper. Desire, especially a desire she was very sure would not be fulfilled tonight, was unwelcome. She knew what she needed to do, but those succulent lips that drew her tongue into his mouth with such intensity didn't make her decision any easier. She stared at him as he gushed her eyes closing as she shook her head, big, salty droplets appearing from beneath the lids and sliding down her face. In a movie she would fling herself at him, tell him he was a fool and she would go nowhere, and yet this was not a movie. This was her life.

Choking back a sob she clenched her hands into fists, wrinkling his shorts. "I think," she began to speak, her voice gaspy as she looked at him, "I think that we need to take a break." Her head shook, though her eyes stayed on his, "Not permanent, but I think right now you need to focus on you, get yourself straightened out and then you can think about me and us again." She scooted closer and placed her hands on the side of his stomach, leaning up and slowly pulling his upper lip through hers. "I'm gonna, gonna stay with my mom for a while. It makes more sense anyway," she said, referring to his decision to no longer share the same bed, "And I still want to see you and talk to you and help in any way I can, but for right now I don't think we can be a couple." Her hands slid down his stomach and then she pulled them back and stood to her feet. She was about to go and pack her things and then she turned, for the first time really, genuinely heartbroken. Touching her hands to his stubbly cheeks she felt them and then leaned to kiss his forehead. "I love you, Jason. I love you like I've never loved anyone else and that's not going to change." Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear she gave him a bittersweet smile, all the while praying she was doing the right thing as she walked away.

[jason andrew irving]

Her lips against his seemed to make everything slip away for a moment. For that short amount of time, the seriousness of their previous conversation, the thoughts of the wreck and the hopeless feeling he had all disappeared and there was nothing but her in his world. His lips curled upwards ever so slightly as he felt her hands rest on his shorts, even though he knew nothing would come out of this, not tonight. It was something he hadn’t been able to resist when he knew what he had to say. It just came over him when he realized that this really could be goodbye.

When he pulled back, he saw the tears sliding down her face and his heart plummeted to the floor; he knew where this was going, right where he expected it to. And he wasn’t going to like it at all. As soon as she got her first broken sentence out, he exhaled slowly and closed his dark eyes. It was the only way he could hide what he was feeling, it was like shutting the book that held his emotions. It might not be completely fool proof, as it was fairly obvious he was hurting, but he couldn’t look at her and see the hurt in her eyes, or the lack of hurt if that was there instead. Feeling the tears welling up behind his closed lids, he clenched his teeth together, fighting them back. Even though she had said it wasn’t permanent, he wasn’t sure how true that would be. She was beautiful and without him by her side, there would be guys trying to get her all the time and one of them could sweep her away and then she would be gone from his life forever.

He made no move as her hands rested along side his stomach, still trying to hold back his tears as a few of them managed to leak down his face. He froze as he felt her lips on his again, his breaths shortening as he felt himself choking up. Unusual for him, he sat completely motionless, unable to bring himself to kiss her back; if he did, he wouldn’t want to let her go. His eyes still shut, he nodded when she said she still wanted to see him. How that would work, he wasn’t sure. How could he still see her and talk to her when things were suddenly so different? A few months down the road, sure, but right away, he wasn’t sure how well it would go over. Regardless, he finally opened his eyes, the tears he had been holding back now flowing down his face. He sighed, finally opening his mouth to speak, nodding his head as he did so. “I understand,” was all he said, his voice hardly more than a broken whisper. Watching her, he choked back more tears as her hands rested on his face and she kissed his forehead; it was like he could feel his heart breaking all over again and this time wasn’t any more pleasant than the last time.

A melancholy smile crossed his face when she said nothing was going to change the way she loved him. She couldn’t know that for sure, there was always the possibility somebody else would come into the picture and take her away. He couldn’t really say take her away from him anymore, since she was no longer his. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond; if he told her he still loved her, it would hurt him more, but if he didn’t, he’d end up hurting her again. He stood up and took a step towards her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her against him. He pressed his lips against her hair for a moment before turning his head sideways, resting his cheek on top of her head. “I love you too, more than you will ever know,” his voice was quiet as a few more salty drops escaped from his eyes.

He let her go, his eyes following her until she disappeared into their closet. He then drug his feet over to the dresser in his room, thankful he kept his sweatpants in here. Knowing she’d be in the closet for a while packing her things, he stripped himself of his shorts and his button-up shirt, pulling on the first pair of sweatpants he saw and a plain, white v-neck. He grabbed one of his tight-fitting hats and slid it on over his curls before he headed down the steps quietly, slipping a pair of running shoes on as soon as he opened the door to the garage. As soon as he hit the driveway, his feet picked up a faster pace and he just ran, not really sure where he was going.

-----------

Jason’s lungs were aching for oxygen and he couldn’t move another inch. Gulping in deep, quick breaths, his knees gave out on him, sending him tumbling beneath a tree. Lying on his back, he rested his arms over his face, hiding his eyes as his chest rose and fell rapidly, his white shirt clinging to his sweaty body. The park wasn’t exactly next door to his house and he had ran the entire way there and then he ran another forty minutes through the park, pushing himself too far. He had only gone running once, maybe twice since the accident, the surgeries he had been forced to go through keeping him from going any more and when he did, it was never very long. If he went for too long, he’d end up hurting and wheezing. And now wasn’t any different; his body ached, his heart ached and he wanted to get up, to run more and push his pain away, but he didn’t think he could move. Finally he drifted off into the perfect sleep; heavy enough he was unconscious but light enough he didn’t dream.

When he woke up, he was stiff, sore and confused in the pitch blackness of the park before everything flooded back to him, a few tears slipping from his eyes as he stood, wincing as he did. He had no idea what time it was, all he knew was he had a long walk home and it wasn’t going to feel too great.

Stumbling through his front door, he didn’t even try to go up the stairs to his empty bedroom; he didn’t want to see the empty closet or the bed still as messed up as it was when Ana had left. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he could drag his feet that much farther. Opening the cabinet that housed his medicine and looked through the small bottles, finally finding the one he wanted. He got it the day he came home from the hospital; the point of it then had been to knock him out so he couldn’t feel his achy body or his broken ribs, now the point of it was to knock him out so he couldn’t feel his heart. He didn’t even bother to get a glass of water, he just swallowed the pills whole and went and collapsed on his couch, staring off into the blackness of his house until the drugs started to kick in, putting him in a deep, dreamless sleep.

running in this

[ana isabel bailey]

As he stepped closer and wrapped her in his arms she again choked on her tears, pressing her face against his chest. She was trying to do the right thing, trying oh so hard to do the right thing by him. Her heart was breaking, and she knew his was certainly fairing no better, and yet she truly felt this was the only thing left to do. He wasn't getting any better with her around, in fact he seemed to want distance if they weren't going to share a bed anymore. What else could she do but give him his space? He wouldn't have to be concerned with impressing her or being mister perfect or their future, which in Annie's mind still meant marriage. He could just be Jason, not Anabel's Jason, just Jason, and in her mind that would make things a whole lot easier. She didn't want to make things tougher for him than they needed to be. Admitting you had a problem was hard enough on its own.

She felt his lips, gently pressing against the top of her head and she let out a little sigh. Maybe she was just really stupid to let him go and she really was going to regret it. For the first time she despised her youthfulness and lack of wisdom. She was shooting into the sky and had no idea where the bullet was going to go. His soft, tanned cheek turned to rest on the top of her blond head and he murmured what had to be the deepest and most tender words she'd ever heard from anyone. She should have expected something like that but she hadn't and suddenly she was crying even harder against the front of his already wet shirt. It took her a minute to even say a thing and when she could all that came out was a weak, "Mi Dios, Jason. Te amo tanto." He might not be a Spanish genius, but he'd certainly heard those words before.

He let her go and she took a long, long look at him, "We're not over." That was all she said and then she stood on tip toe to kiss him, scarcely capable of moving her lips so it ultimately ended up being a very long peck and then she pulled herself away and half ran into the bathroom and into their closet. As she began to pull clothes off the hangers, tossing them un-folded and in a method that would disturb most any OCD person over the edge into her pink suitcase, she completely covered up the noise of the activity with harsh sobs that had turned to hiccups by the time she emerged from the closet with most of her clothes for the things she kept in his dresser. She didn't know what she'd expected, maybe that he'd be still standing there waiting for her to come out, but seeing him missing stopped her hiccups as her red-rimmed blue eyes looked about the room. She wiped her eyes, tilted her chin up with an undignified sniff, and pulled open a drawer for her bras and panties and the pieces of stupid lingerie that Jason had proved rather fond of. It took that, the simple thought of the way lust and utter love had mixed in those dark eyes in a way no other man had ever looked at her that sent her back into tears. She'd truly never known it was possible to cry this much.

Numbly she zipped the big suitcase back up and hauled it out of their room, which wasn't really theirs anymore now was it, and let the pink bag hit each carpeted stair as she made her way downstairs. She'd taken most of what she'd left in this house, but there were definitely still bits of her left behind. Things she didn't need or didn't really want right now. She had every intention of being back in this house by the time summer ended, or at least she hoped to be. For all Jason's unvoiced fears, she was definitely not interested in having anyone else sweep her off her feet. Just because they weren't a "couple" did not mean Annie was heading over to the single's bar. Picking her keys out of the little basket they kept them in she walked out into the garage, noting the door to it left open. She didn't know where he'd gone, but didn't really have the energy at this point to contemplate it.

With considerable effort she got her suitcase into the trunk of her black Cobalt Coupe. She didn't know how to handle the matter that Jason was the one that had signed for the car and it was his money that was paying for it. Slamming the trunk shut she stared at the shiny car for a long minute and then shrugged. If he wanted his car back she'd give it to him and just use her mother's little Bug, but she didn't exactly picture Jason demanding it back. Sliding into the driver's seat and turning the key she pulled out of the garage, leaving it open for him and slowly backing out onto the street. She glanced through the illuminated front window of the Hart's house, right across the street. Figured the dark haired sap had to kiss his wife right at that moment. It was exactly what she wanted to see, a happy little married couple. Pushing her orange flip flop to the gas she sped much too fast down the road leaving her life for the past several months behind, tears blurring her vision.