Break Failure
ok, i lied. after this, i'm on hiatus lol. i pulled this out of absolutely no where last night. reflects upon real life circumstances and all that jazz. i couldnt figure out who the main character was. honestly, i think it's me. but there's no "nicole" fandom. so... just play pretend and it's whoever you want it to be, i guess. unless i just announce now that it's a jesse/john slash, i really have no where to put this. so we'll see if anyone reads it without me posting all over the place, and if no one does, then ill just dub names to my characters and thats that.
Title: Break Failure
Date: 11/27/04
Summary: You’ve got seven seconds.
Disclaimer: I own everything. Even you.
Warnings: Don't get in my car, or this really could be based on a true story.
Break Failure
Your sighs tighten my grip. Your sniffles increase my pressure. And your tears break my heart.
I hate to see you cry. And I absolutely despise knowing that I’m the one that causes it. I’m the one who’s causing the drama. I’m the one who’s starting the fights. I’m the one making you choose.
And although this could’ve, and should’ve, worked out better, worked out differently, this is the way it’s going to be. It’s high time I start thinking about myself. I’ve always lived for others. I’ve always cared about their happiness - your happiness - above my own. I’m the most unselfish person in the world. But not tonight. No, definitely not tonight. Tonight will be a night to remember. Or a night to forget.
I’m sick of being blown off. I’m sick of being chosen over. I’m sick of being secondary. I’m tired of being a back up and I’m fed up with being forgotten. I was there for you through everything. I was there for you when I shouldn’t have been. I was there for you when you weren’t there for me. And how do I get repaid? By being ignored, of course.
We made these plans nearly a month ago. Tonight was supposed to be a night for us. Tonight was something we really needed. Tonight was a promise. And, like most of the promises you ever made to me, this one was looking like it was to be broken, as well.
But being that I wasn’t ready to accept that, I got off my ass and decided to step up. Just when you thought there was no fight left in me, I surprised the hell out of you, didn’t I? You weren’t expecting to hear from me tonight. To see me tonight. You weren’t expecting me to burst through the doors of the darkened theatre, grab you, and force you out to the car. You were in shock while I buckled you in, locked the door, and got into the driver’s seat. And the minute I was back on the highway was the minute I decided that I hadn’t lost my mind; I was doing what needed to be done.
And then you started to cry. And not only doubt, but guilt, was brought into play.
“See what happens when you don’t answer your phone?”
“Shut up,” you sniffle, placing your head against the cold glass of the passenger side’s window.
“You think I’m insane.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement.” Even utterly upset, you’re still quite the smartass. I’ve always liked that.
“Well, you’d be insane, too, if you were in my situation.”
“And what situation’s that?” Oh c’mon, don’t play stupid with me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.
“I’m losing the most important person in my life for absolutely no good reason.”
“You’re not losing me!” you exclaim, wiping violently at your tears, causing me to look over at you for a second or two. I’ve always thought you to be beautiful. And even with puffy eyes, a red nose, and a look of hatred on your face, the thought still stands.
“Tonight was our night. And where were you? Out with him!”
“Well we’ll do it some other night.”
“It’s always ‘some other night’. You owe me fourteen thousand ‘some other night’s. And don’t you dare roll your eyes at me because you know I’m right.”
“Take me back.”
“No.”
“Then take me home.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fucking… what do you want me to do?!” you suddenly shout, hands flailing in the air before you begin to feel around by your feet, no doubt searching for your things that I haphazardly threw into the car when I kidnapped you.
That’s actually a pretty good question. What do I want you to do? I want you to get rid of him. I really do. But I can’t ask that. How could I even think of that? I want you to be happy, but I want to be happy, as well. I want you back in my life. I want to spend hours on the phone with you. I want to go out at any time with you and go absolutely anywhere. I want to take rode trips every Saturday. I want to study for tests together. I want to get lost in huge department stores and walkie talkie our way back to each other. I want to take pictures of the most random things and post them up in the most random places. I want to lay with you and hold you and know that you want the exact same thing. I want to love you, and know that you love me in return. I want you back. And I don’t want to share.
“What are we gonna do?” I ask. Screw the fact that you asked me a question. Screw the fact that we’re doing 90 on a 65. And screw the fact that it’s starting to rain. It all compliments my mood. I love nature.
And you sigh. Again. I know you know there’s a problem. I know you’re pissed about it and I know you know that I am, too. I know that you spend a lot of time thinking about a solution and I know you’ve come up with the same thing I have - absolutely nothing. I know you still want me in your life. But I also know you don’t want to give up what you have with your… person.
“I… don’t know.” Honest answer, I can deal with that.
No I can’t.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, this whole thing’s such a mess.” Again, honest, but also too much of stating the obvious.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Slow down?” Nice suggestion, but how ‘bout no. Or maybe…
I know exactly how to figure out what’s going to happen with us. I know exactly how to find out what you want. And even though it’s probably not the best way of going about doing things, it’s going to work. I know it’ll work. And if it doesn’t, then at least I tried.
“Fine,” I agree, pretending to move my foot, but knowing I really don’t have to - you’ve got terrible night vision. And that’s something only I would know.
A few seconds go by and I bite my lip. You glance at the speedometer and then look up at me.
“You’re not slowing down.”
“I’m trying.”
“Well try harder, there’s a sharp turn coming up.”
“Will you shut up?”
“No, now press the freakin break!”
“I AM!!”
“Stop fucking fooling around and hit the god damn break!”
Insert dramatics. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Oh god.”
“Don’t you dare fuck with me!” you shriek as your eyes grow big, fear and confusion coming out as tears. You’re scared. I know you are. And I know what you think is going on. I almost feel bad for doing this, but it really does have to happen this way.
The turn ahead is coming closer and closer and the car is absolutely flying. The mountainous scenery around is one huge blur as we gather more speed as the hill we’re on grows steeper. The rain’s pouring down on us, the windshield wipers are going crazy, and you’re frozen in the seat next to me.
But unknown to you, everything’s under control.
Or at least, that’s what I think. Until I see the white lights.
Bright, painful headlights blind me as we approach the turn… and the tractor trailer coming up it. For the first time throughout the whole car ride, I begin to panic. This wasn’t was supposed to happen. I was supposed to get by the old fallen tree and slam on my breaks. It wasn’t supposed to rain, the roads weren’t supposed to be shiny and slippery, and this truck wasn’t supposed to be there. But it is raining. The roads are unsafe. And the truck is coming closer and closer.
And I do the only thing I know to do. I close my eyes. And pray for your life.
Your screams meshed with my own added to the blaring horn of the truck and the screeching of my tires are the only sounds heard for the next few seconds. And then. Nothing.
I’m afraid to move. I’m afraid to breathe. I’m afraid to open my eyes. Am I alive? Did I die? Am I in heaven? Or hell? All I can hear now are your sobs, which signals my answer. I must be in hell.
Slowly, I open my eyes, feeling for the first time the seatbelt at my throat. Or, in my throat, rather. My back hurts. And my heart’s pounding out of my chest. But none of that matters. I don’t matter. It’s you. You that I’m worried about. With the shakiest of hands, I manage to put the car in park and unbuckle myself. I don’t know where we ended up. I don’t know if we’re at the bottom of the turn or still halfway down the hill. The truck’s no where in sight and there are no other lights. I don’t bother to look around me; the only thing I want to see is you.
I reach out for you and you jump a mile. Which makes me smile, but causes you to cry harder. I can’t imagine what I just did to you. I can’t imagine what’s going on in your mind. So I ask.
“What’re you thinking about right now?”
Any other normal person would’ve probably smacked me for asking that question. Or responded with a “what the hell do you think I’m thinking, you asshole?!” But not you.
You pull your hands away from your face, turn your head, and answer me.
“You,” you say, your words shakier than my hands. “I was thinking about you,” you continue, even though I haven’t asked you to. “I was thinking about life without you. And how that can’t happen.”
I blink. This wasn’t what I expected. I mean, this is what I wanted. This is everything I wanted. But it’s definitely not what I thought was going to happen.
“The only thing I could think of was how we needed to survive. Both of us. So I could see you. And apologize.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I cut you off. You don’t have to. I know you’re sorry. And I hope you know that I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for coming up with such a stupid plan. I’m sorry for almost seriously killing us. I’m sorry for even trying to make you choose in the first place. I said I was never going to. And I did. I’m sorry for lying. I guess I’m not the only one who’s broken promises recently. “Let’s just… go home.”
You agree and I put the car in drive. You don’t question the use of my breaks on the way back to town. I think you know. I really do. But I don’t ask. Instead, I focus on getting us home in one piece. And I focus on your hand in mine. And I focus on the three words that are whispered into my ear as I hug you goodnight.
I’d like to say everything I did tonight was stupid. I’d like to say that that was the most horrible thing I could ever do to you and I’m sorry for it. But thinking about everything that happened helps me realize that I’m not. I set out to do something and I did it. I wanted you to see what you were missing out on. I wanted you to realize what you were doing to me. And I got what I wanted. In a record time of seven seconds.
Next time, let’s try for four.