to love in all this mess, part three

[forcedmovement]

Part One Part Two

They fall into dating like it's the most natural thing in the world, like it's not a big deal at all. Jac greets her after shows with kisses instead of hugs, and Audrey slips her hand into Jac's when they watch movies together, and it's all so easy.

Audrey's fucking terrified.

Her relationships have never been like this. It was all fucking in broom closets and bathrooms and flipping over furniture during hour long fights until someone (Audrey) got bored and cut off contact, or cheated, or both.

During her first fight with Jac, Audrey had been two steps away from the door when Jac had caught her in her arms and whispered "Don't go," in her ear. She didn't. She repeats it in her head when she gets too overwhelmed by the reality of their relationship, having anxiety attacks over their growing codependence. Don't go. Don't go. She hears it in Jac's voice and it calms her down almost instantly.

They haven't said "I love you" yet but it feels okay. Audrey doesn't think either of them is ready for it really, content to stay in the comfortable place they've carved for themselves for now.

Still, she practices saying it to Jac's snoring shape beside her on the bed late some nights, and when Jac unconsciously reaches out and puts her arm around her, it feels like home.

* * * * *

"Are you going to write me a song?" Jac asks her, cleaning glasses behind the bar one night after closing.

Audrey glances up from her seat on top of a nearby table where she'd been flipping through the notebook full of new lyrics Pete had shoved into her mailbox yesterday. "Writing songs isn't really my thing," she says skeptically. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not great with words."

Jac tries to conceal her smile of agreement behind the dishrag, but her eyes are bright and crinkled and Audrey's not fooled at all.

"But you have written stuff. Frank told me, you play them sometimes," she says, coming out from behind the bar. She pulls a stool down off Audrey's table and sits on it, looking up at Audrey inquisitively.

Audrey heaves a sigh. "Yes, I have. But my lyrics are incredibly shitty compared to Pete's, and they're all about people I hate. I'm not poetic. Or subtle," she adds as an afterthought.

She glances back down at Pete's notebook and idly scratches the outline of a cupcake with her fingernail on the front cover, hoping Jac will drop the subject.

She doesn't, of course. Jac never likes to make things easy on Audrey. ("It would take the fun out of everything," she'd said one day, looking scandalized.)

"I've heard one though, you played it one of the first times I saw you guys. It was good. No, I mean it," she insists after Audrey rolls her eyes, "I could actually understand what it was about, you know? I love Pete's style, but his lyrics are about a million different things, I don't know whether he's in love or going to kill someone or like, fucking talking about his hair half the time."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Audrey replies, smiling impishly. "Actually, let him hear you say that. Maybe he'll write a song about people who don't get him, and that'll be for you. Then everyone'll be happy."

"Oh yeah, that's every girl's dream." Jac glances at the notebook Audrey's holding with sudden interest. "Don't think I'm forgetting about my song, but how are the new lyrics?"

Audrey stares down at Pete's scratchy handwriting with a pit in her stomach. She hasn't said anything about them yet, not to Frank, not to Chris, and definitely not to Pete.

But it's Jac, and she's staring at her with bright eyes and a curious look and Audrey can't help herself from blurting out, "I'm worried about him."

Jac blinks. "Pete? Why? Are they bad?"

'No," Audrey says slowly, choosing her words carefully, rolling each one around in her mouth before letting it loose. "They're good. But it's an entire notebook worth of lyrics and Frank suggested what, like three new songs? And it's all frantic."

"Frantic," Jac repeats, raising her eyebrows. "Doesn't that…make sense though? If he usually writes them when he's…you know?"

"Off his fucking rocker?" Audrey asks. She smiles humorlessly at Jac, who glares back at her.

"I was going to say manic."

Audrey waves her hand dismissively at Jac. "The point is, it seems like it's getting worse, maybe. Or he's not taking his meds again. But he looks fine whenever I see him, so maybe I'm just thinking too much about this. It's frustrating."

She finishes abruptly and closes her eyes, too annoyed and confused to keep talking. She's silent for just a few seconds when Jac's lips brush against hers, soft, surprising. Audrey kisses her back, insistent and harsh, taking the relief Jac's offering her and craving more.

"I don't hear the sounds of cleaning," drifts Alicia's voice from the office sharply, and Jac breaks apart from Audrey with a guilty smile.

"I forgot she was here," Jac tells Audrey, brushing back strands of her hair. "I'm going to finish up. Don't worry too much, okay? If anything's wrong, Chris will notice."

Audrey nods and looks back at the notebook, her breath coming out heavy and fast.

"And I still want a song," Jac calls back over her shoulder.

When Audrey looks at Jac's retreating figure, all she can think about are the dozens of verses scrawled on paper in her room, all the versions of lyrics she's had running through her mind for weeks. She grins widely and forgets to worry, humming a melody softly under her breath.

* * * * *

The worst thing about being in a relationship, Audrey decides, is definitely Couples Pictionary. And Couples Movie Night. And Couples Cook-Off.

"You know Couples Cook-Off isn't a real thing, right?" she tells Jac the night before, butterflies in her stomach. "He just wants to know which of us got the better mate."

"The better mate?" Jac asks, giving her a bemused look.

Audrey throws her hands in the air. "His words, not mine."

Jac is scribbling on her jeans with a Sharpie, tracing heart after heart on the inside of her leg, looking completely unconcerned about the competition. "Can Gerard cook?"

"I have no idea. Frank won't tell me. Jac, can you cook?"

Jac ignores her, contentedly adding a row of flames to the inseam. "What's the likelihood of you setting a small fire in the living room? Just long enough to distract them while I sneak in pre-cooked food."

It's momentarily tempting, but Audrey regains her senses. "Very slim."

"Hmm," is all Jac will say for the rest of the night whenever Audrey asks her about her cooking skills, and Audrey thinks she might slap her.

* * * * *

Gerard and Frank burn their roast chicken. Jac and Audrey make grilled cheese and call it a win.

* * * * *

"Your hair makes me crave strawberry ice cream," Jac says, running her fingers through Audrey's bangs.

"Well, yours makes me crave Skittles," Audrey replies with an easy laugh, pressing her lips to Jac's head. "I wish you'd let me dye it for you again. You can't even figure out what half the colors were anymore."

Jac twirls it reflexively, nervously. "I'm not doing the rainbow thing again, Audrey. It's like choosing…not to choose, which is fucking dumb. I'm going to pick a color, and I'll let you dye it when I do."

Audrey raises her eyebrows but says nothing. It's not her decision, it's not her hair, and Jac isn't a client. Avoiding the argument, she smiles and says, "Well, whatever you want." She pulls Jac down onto her bed as a distraction, and kisses her hard.

She gets as far as unbuttoning Jac's jeans when Jac pushes her off with a groan. "Don't tempt me, jackass, I have to go to work in ten minutes."

"What, you think it's going to take that long?" Audrey asks, fingers brushing softly along Jac's stomach. She can't feel Jac's bones as easily anymore, soft curves building up instead, and Audrey thinks she could sing a hundred songs about how happy it makes her to see Jac's eating habits return to normal.

Jac rolls her eyes and whacks Audrey's arm. "I'm serious. I can't be late. Money's been…I just, I need to be on time." She drops her gaze, staring down at her feet. "Just kiss me, okay?"

Audrey tells Jac she's beautiful in between kisses, listing all the ways she's perfect and gorgeous and strong. She knows it won't change the way Jac sees herself but it doesn't matter, she has to do it. She needs to do it.

Jac grudgingly leaves for work after ten incredibly short minutes, but a text lights up Audrey's phone just a few minutes later.

Cant find my keys. I think I left them there, check?

Audrey glances around her room for a few seconds before spotting them sitting on her stuffed panda. "Didn't I tell you not to steal?" she chides before texting back.

chopstciks had them ill bringthem to u

When she gets to the bar, she hands Jac her keys and a cup of strawberry ice cream she'd picked up on the way, a move that she tries her hardest to think of as a casual gesture. "I'm the best girlfriend ever," she says by way of greeting.

"Don't claim your title just yet. Does it have chunks of strawberries in it?" Jac asks her, inspecting the cup carefully.

Audrey rolls her eyes. "Please. I know you better than that. I had to drive twenty minutes out of the way to find an ice cream place that would serve me strawberry ice cream without actual strawberry chunks in it. On the plus side, I now know you're not the only freak out there."

Jac smiles then, blindingly bright in the dim bar, and says "I love you."

It feels right. It feels perfect. And Audrey replies without hesitation or fear, "I love you."

She kisses Jac until her breath runs out, leaning across the bar until it presses into her stomach hard enough to leave a faint mark. She runs her fingers across it the whole way home.

* * * * *

What Audrey remembers later when she looks back on this day is that the phone's ring had sounded heavier than usual, somehow, like the weight of the news was too big to carry in its words alone.

She's shampooing some new customer's hair, a pretty little thing with a mess of golden curls that Audrey covets, and the phone rings. She wouldn't notice normally, too wrapped up in the conversation her customers expect and the work she's doing on their hair, only the receptionist is in the bathroom and it rings longer than usual.

Someone grabs it eventually and she tunes it out again, doesn't even notice when Chris is called to get it, doesn't notice him drop the towel he'd been playfully twirling on the floor.

But when he says "Audrey," it clicks into place, and she knows deep down what he's going to say. She feels it from her hair to her toes, static electricity setting her on edge.

She looks up and it's written all over his face as plain as day, and she can't urge him to go on, can't say a word.

* * * * *

"We can't release any information to non-family members," the doctors say, looking down at their charts. Pete's charts, Audrey knows, all the information is right there and no one will tell them anything, any fucking thing at all.

Chris squeezes Audrey's hand tight, like he knows that he's the only thing keeping her from screaming or punching or biting the doctors. "We're family," he says, simply.

We're family.

* * * * *

"He screwed up with his meds," she tells Tom over the phone, wrapping the cord around her wrist as she talks. It's cold, like everything else in the whole awful place. "Not like usual, um. He has the sleeping pills, you know, only I guess he's been taking them without letting himself sleep. And he went out and got into a car accident. He's going to be okay. They keep telling us that he's stable, and that's what that means, so. He's going to be okay."

She's said it to six different people already and it still doesn't sound real to her.

Tom assures her he's on his way and she manages to thank him before the line goes dead. She holds the phone in her hands for a minute before remembering how to hang up. She's had to think a lot about how to function since getting here.

When Frank walks through the doors he looks more like an angel than any picture on a chapel wall ever has.

"You were working until 6," she says when he reaches her, confused.

"I left. They can manage. I'll get a new job if I have to, whatever. Can we see him?"

Audrey nods, gesturing uselessly at the room behind her. "Chris is in there. I was too. But I, you know, I had to do something. There were phone calls. I had to make them. His parents can't make it in until tonight, I tried every airline I know and there's nothing, they don't even care. They won't bump anyone, not even when I explained. I couldn't do anything."

She closes her eyes as tight as she can and counts backward from ten. She can't cry, not here, not in this place. The air smells like death and the lights are all fluorescent and she can't let herself do it.

"How are you holding up?" he asks her, and somehow she manages not to fall apart.

"He doesn't move," she says, ignoring the question. Her voice is trembling, giving her away, but she can't stop it. "I've never seen him so still."

Frank kisses her forehead and she crumples into him without a second thought, hugging him so hard her ribs feel like they're cracking. She doesn't cry, but she lets the tears form in her eyes before she blinks them back.

"Call Jac, Audrey," he tells her before walks into Pete's room. "You need her."

She doesn't even realize how much she does until he says it, and she picks up the phone and dials before she can convince herself it's too selfish to need something.

"Hello?" Jac answers, and she sounds like music and safety and everything the hospital lacks.

Audrey leans in closer to the pay phone involuntarily, like she can get close enough to touch her or breathe her in if she just holds the phone to her ear hard enough.

"Hi, it's me," she starts, and Jac interrupts before she can get any further.

"Audrey? Where are you? I've been calling your phone for hours. Did you lose it? What phone are you calling me from?"

She sounds panicked and vaguely annoyed and Audrey has to take a minute to collect her breath before answering. "My phone's at home or at your place or something. I don't really know. I'm in the hospital. I'm okay. Um. Not okay, really, but physically I'm fine, I'm not hurt or anything. It's Pete. He got into an accident because he was screwing around with his meds but he's going to be okay, so that makes it okay, only…it doesn't. Jac, they don't even know if it was on purpose or not. They can't even tell us if he was trying to kill himself. I hate him, I hate him so much for doing this stupid shit."

Tears are streaming down her face and she wipes them away with the back of her hand, but it doesn't matter because Jac is listening and Jac is going to fix it for her, somehow.

There's silence on the line before Jac says anything, a soft "Oh my god," that Audrey almost doesn't catch.

"I'm sorry, I unloaded all of this on you at once," Audrey starts to babble on, but Jac interrupts again.

"No, no, Audrey. It's okay. Oh god, I'm so sorry. He's okay, though? And no one else is hurt?"

Audrey starts to shake her head before she remembers that Jac can't see her. "No, he hit a tree. Or a pole. They weren't clear about it, or maybe I just didn't hear. I don't know."

"Of course," Jac says soothingly, sweetly. "It's going to be okay, Aud. I know it is. Pete's strong. You're strong."

"I'm their strong Amazon woman," Audrey replies, smiling despite herself. It feels bizarrely good to smile, like she's breaking some kind of rule. Like that's what Pete would want her to be doing.

"Just like that, sure," Jac laughs. "God, I don't want to add anything to this, but…I have something going on too."

Audrey sits up a little straighter, readying herself. "Okay. Whatever it is, I want to hear it."

She can hear Jac take a deep breath. "My parents are here. I haven't really talked to them yet. They're drinking coffee at that place next door."

"How?" is all Audrey can think to say, trying to process this on top of all the other shit the universe has piled on her today.

"They hired a private investigator to find me," Jac sighs.

Audrey adjusts the phone, like moving it around will help her find the right words to say. "Well…that's a good thing then, right? They cared enough to find you."

Jac's tone shifts ever so slightly, and Audrey knows she's said it wrong, all wrong. "Not necessarily. Not if they want to send me to some kind of camp to "fix" me. You don't know them Audrey."

She pauses for a moment and sighs again. "Look, I know this is the most selfish thing I could ask right now, but I need you here. I need you to be here while I talk to them. I'm not strong enough to do it alone."

Audrey stares at the hospital gurney just a few inches away and thinks just for a second that this is her out, her escape from the wretchedness of the hospital. And then she looks at the waiting room chairs, at Frank and the cup of coffee sitting on the table that she knows is the worst either of them has ever had, and she knows it's not a question at all.

"I can't."

Jac doesn't respond at first, but when her voice comes back over the phone, it's flat and emotionless. "That was fast."

"Jac," Audrey starts, but Jac doesn't let her finish.

"No, it's fine, it's just good to know that you gave it so much consideration."

Audrey doesn't want to fight but she can't help but bristle, can't help snapping back, "One of my best friends almost died. Do you get that? And you're upset because I won't come hold your hand? You're being an idiot. They wouldn't have hired a fucking detective if they didn't care about you."

"I'm scared Audrey, and I don't think it's too much to ask for my girlfriend to support me for a few fucking hours." Jac's yelling now, her voice coming through the phone like a knife.

"It is too much. It's too fucking much right now," Audrey says, fire burning in her heart, and she can't hold herself back anymore. "I can't handle your issues on top of everything else. I've always thought what you did to them was dumb. My parents weren't great either Jac, but I didn't disappear like some seventeen year old runaway. You're an adult, they can't legally force you to do anything you don't want to do. So deal with it yourself and stop acting like an immature brat."

She knows she's gone too far as soon as she says it, and Jac replies in an unnaturally still voice, "Okay."

"Jac…I didn't mean…I wouldn't have said that if I wasn't so freaked out right now. But it's Pete, he's family. He's one of the only people in the world that I love," Audrey pleads, trying to regain control of everything and reason it out and make it all okay again.

"And here I thought I was too. I guess that was stupid of me, right?" Jac says, deadly calm again, and the phone goes dead, and the world goes dark.

* * * * *

Jac's apartment is empty by the time Audrey goes there two days later. There's no note, no forwarding address.

Audrey falls asleep for an hour on Jac's bedroom floor trying to breathe in every last bit of Jac. She wakes up covered in tears and doesn't know when she started crying.

She walks out of Jac's apartment for the last time and thinks her heart would be broken if she could feel anything at all.

* * * * *

Audrey thinks she's doing a remarkably good job at being alive, considering. It took two days to remember how to smile but she can do it almost automatically now when someone says hello, and laughing is becoming something close to natural again.

She'd given everyone the condensed version of what happened after Pete had recovered more. They'd been gathered around Pete's hospital bed and she'd stared at her hands as she talked, oddly detached from the entire story. It was like reading off a checklist of the details of their break-up, nothing she'd experienced personally.

"I'd rather not talk about it more," she'd said after she'd finished. And amazingly, mercifully, they'd listened. Frank had stacked the freezer with cartons of ice cream but offered no words of sympathy, and it suited her just fine.

She busies herself with work and visiting Pete in the hospital. It's weird how comfortable she's become under the sterile bright lights since the miserable first visit, but it's easier to talk to Pete than anyone else. No matter how cheerful Frank and Chris and Tom act around her, no matter what they talk about, she can feel the questions burning in their minds. How are you and why haven't you cried, nothing she can answer.

But Pete has nothing to ask her and she knows he deals with their silent questions too. There's an unspoken rule to her visits. They never talk about anything serious, playing cards and making jokes instead, and it feels like a safe haven. The relief in Pete's eyes when she walks through the door tells her he feels the same.

Audrey curls up in bed every night staring blankly at the wall and listening to sad songs about loss and heartbreak. She waits for the tears to start, telling herself that's what she needs to do. They never come. Audrey vaguely wonders if there's something wrong with her, but she always falls asleep before she can determine the answer.

She rarely lets herself be alone. Being around other people forces her to pretend that everything's okay, that she's happy, and sometimes it starts to feel real. She forgets the way it felt with Jac, the tingling all through her body and mind that meant she was really alive, the laughter that took her breath away. And Audrey thinks that maybe she can learn to be content with the shadows of feelings.

But when she's alone the blank emptiness comes back, and Audrey feels like nothing more than a shell.

* * * * *

Pete's welcome home party is small, just the band and Gerard in attendance, but she'd taken the time to drape streamers and toss glitter all over the apartment. Pete looks strong for the first time since the crash despite the bandages and cast on his arm and Audrey idly wonders if maybe it was just the hospital lights that made him look so fragile. Maybe they do it to everyone.

"This is perfect, Audrey," he tells her, hugging her so tight it hurts. "Frank said you've been planning it for days. It's great."

She thinks he's lying and opens her mouth to say so, but he's giving her an anxious look and all that manages to come out is, "I'm glad you're home."

Pete moves on to hug Tom, and Audrey's eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. Two more hours of safety, two more hours surrounded by people. Frank is staying at Gerard's again tonight and she's dreading the dark, empty apartment waiting for her.

Chris breaks out the board games after they demolish Pete's welcome back cake, (shaped like a crashed car, of course, as tacky and tactless as they could be. Pete had loved it,) and it almost starts to feel like everything is normal again. Frank makes a joke that catches her off guard and Audrey laughs until she's gasping for air.

Pete sidles over to her after they both lose at a Candyland tournament, a wide smile plastered on his face, and she knows she's not the only one who feels happier than they have in a long time.

"I'll trade you. Skittles for M&Ms," he says, holding out the bag.

"Deal," she replies. They eat in silence for a minute, watching the game in front of them and cheering for the remaining players (Audrey for Frank, Pete for Chris) until Pete nudges her with his foot.

She glances at him and he jerks his head towards the balcony. "Come on, I'm bored with watching these assholes."

"Somebody's a sore loser," Chris calls after them as they head out, and they flip him off simultaneously.

Audrey sits down on the Transformers lawn chair they've got on the balcony and stares down at the alley below. "If we're doing another experiment on gravity I'm going to have to veto the bowling ball this time," she says out loud, concealing her nervousness with a smirk. She has a feeling in the pit of her stomach that Pete's going to break their rule.

"Man, you drop one bowling ball and you're branded for life," Pete notes sadly, shaking his head. And he looks at her, smile faltering for the first time tonight, and she knows it's happening. "So…heard from Jac at all?"

She scrapes the balcony railing with her heel, avoiding his eyes. She's not ready for this, not tonight, not when everything was starting to feel again. "Pete…"

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," he says abruptly, and when she looks up at him sharply he gives her a small, humorless laugh. "Not exactly. I was driving, and it occurred to me that I might crash the car. And it wasn't what I was trying to do, but I didn't pull over either."

He looks like a little boy suddenly, looking at her with guilty eyes, and Audrey doesn't know what to say. She stares at him and hopes that she doesn't look scared, hopes that she looks understanding.

"So, I showed you mine. Show me yours," he says, smiling again. Audrey rolls her eyes and kicks him. Fucking idiot.

"She hasn't called me," Audrey offers after a moment's pause. The words are harder than she expected and she shivers despite the warm weather. "I can't decide if I blame her or not. I said some things…maybe I deserve losing her."

Pete nods seriously, like he understands what she's saying. Maybe he does. "Are you going to be okay?" he asks, and Audrey's automatic "I'm fine," springs to her tongue. But she looks at him and chokes it back down, unable to lie.

"I'm trying," she tells him, her voice cracking slightly, and she realizes her mistake. She'd been afraid to talk about Jac to anyone for fear of being brought back to that numb, empty place she's been struggling to leave, but the conversation is doing the opposite. She can feel herself splintering, desperate sadness filling up every pore.

She regains control of her voice and says, "I think I could be, someday." Pete takes her hand and squeezes it, and as rough as his hand is, it feels like comfort.

"What about you? Are you going to be okay?" she asks him, unable to stop herself from turning the question back on him.

Pete shrugs. "I don't know. I feel like I should have some new appreciation for life or something, but it still sucks sometimes, I mean, look at you." He grins like he's joking and she aims another kick at his leg that he skillfully dodges. "But…I like our band. I think I'd like to see where it goes."

"We're pretty fucking awesome," Audrey admits, a smile forcing its way across her face.

"Definitely worth living for," Pete agrees.

They both laugh out loud suddenly and uncontrollably, out of relief more than anything. Audrey wipes tears from her eyes and it feels good. It feels great.

"Want to sleep over?" Pete asks her. "I think your sleeping bag is still here."

"The My Little Pony one? Asshole, I've been looking for that," Audrey snaps, but she's still laughing.

Pete nods, unashamed. "We needed it. I can't tell you why, it was a secret mission. Are you going to come to my slumber party or not?"

When Audrey says yes, she wants to tell him what it means to her, how good it feels not to have to go home alone tonight. She can't form the words before he goes back inside, but he smiles bigger than she's ever seen and maybe he gets it anyway. Maybe she's not the only one being saved.

* * * * *

She cries into her sleeping bag that night. It feels ridiculous to see her tears staining multicolored cartoon ponies, but she can't stop, doesn't want to stop. She's devastated and happy and exhausted and it's like a release of everything that had been building in her veins.

And suddenly, Pete and Chris are both snuggled up to her, bony and uncomfortable and everything she needs. She can't tell if they're awake but it doesn't matter.

She feels safe.

* * * * *

It's not easy. Everything reminds her of Jac and some days, Audrey longs for the numbness again.

Frank and Gerard take her to movies, dinners, concerts; anything they think will distract her from the searing loneliness. She doesn't know if they've stopped avoiding the subject because Pete talked to them or because Frank had come home to find her curled up in a ball on the floor of her room, clutching Jac's shirt and crying.

It should feel comforting to have them around so much, but it doesn't. Frank will turn and whisper into Gerard's ear, or smile at him like he's oblivious to anyone else in the room, and all it does is make her heart ache.

She catches her name coming from the living room one night after an hour of tossing and turning in her bed. She tiptoes to her door and presses her ear up against it, straining to hear the conversation.

"I wish we could help more," she hears Gerard say, his hushed voice full of concern. "She seems like she's doing better, at least."

"She's not doing better," Frank replies darkly, and Audrey's heart sinks. "She's dealing with it better, but that doesn't mean she's doing better."

It hurts more than she can admit to herself, listening to Frank talk about her like she's pathetic. She has been doing better no matter what he says. The hard moments are coming fewer and farther between every day and that's improvement, it has to be improvement. He doesn't have the right to make that judgment. He doesn't know what it's like in her head.

She throws open the door in annoyance before she can stop herself, and Frank and Gerard both jump.

"I need water," she snaps irritably, glaring at them, making it clear that she overheard. Gerard is beet red but Frank just stares at her thoughtfully, no trace of apology.

It pisses her off more than anything.

She doesn't speak to him at all the next day. She's angry that he talked about her, angry that he acted like such a fucking know-it-all, angry that he made her question herself. A small voice whispers relentlessly in her head, you're not fine, you'll never be fine, and a part of her thinks she'll never forgive him for it.

When she gets home from work that night, there's a tiny figurine and a post-it on her pillow. It reads:

You're stronger than I'll ever be able to give you credit for. Don't forget that. I'm sorry.

She stares at the figurine, understanding dawning on her. It's a tiny Amazon woman adorned with a feathery headdress and holding a spear. She was blonde at one point, Audrey supposes, but Frank has painted her hair pink.

She tackles him with a hug when he comes home and they don't speak about the incident again. Audrey takes to sleeping with the figurine clutched in her hand, desperately trying to find some of that strength her boys are so convinced is inside of her, wondering if she'll ever live up to the image. Some nights she almost thinks she can.

And then she stares into the darkness and all she can see is Jac.

* * * * *

Frank presses a post-it in one hand and a brownie in the other and gives her his best overprotective mom look, the one he's been perfecting for ages.

"Her parent's address is on that. It's not all that far, actually, maybe six hours away. You need to talk to her, for closure if nothing else. Audrey, you guys never even broke up, not really, and I don't think you'll ever recover completely if you don't. I won't let you wonder about this girl for the rest of your life."

Audrey stares uncomprehendingly at the post-it. She can't process what he's telling her. Jac has been missing for weeks, completely unreachable. And suddenly she has all the answers, Frank's given her everything to find Jac and see her again (and touch her again, and kiss her again...)

"Please don't give me this," she says out loud, dropping the post-it on the table. She stares at Frank with a pleading look in her eyes. "I can't."

She breaks off, unable to explain further, and looks apprehensively at the post-it like it'll explode at any moment.

Frank heaves a sigh. "I can't make you go and see her, but I think you need to."

"Why now?" Audrey asks, torn between a million different feelings.

"We just found her last night. We've been working on it ever since she left, Audrey, it's been a bitch. Otherwise I would have, believe me. I never wanted you to deal with all that pain for so long."

There are so many questions burning in Audrey's throat, but she settles on, "Why didn't you tell me you were looking?"

Frank smiles at her, sweet and sympathetic. "We weren't sure we'd be able to find her."

Audrey rubs her head with her hand absentmindedly, soothing the throbbing headache that has suddenly popped up. "When you say we…you mean everyone knew about it."

"Yeah, Pete thinks we should start some kind of detective agency and wear trenchcoats and shit," Frank says, smirking, but Audrey can't find the joke funny at all and stares blankly at him. He looks at her seriously and grabs her free hand, suddenly anxious. "Please don't get mad, Aud, please. We're just trying to help you."

"I'm not angry, I think. I don't know. I can't deal with this right now," she says, standing up and shaking her head. She grabs her purse and walks away from the counter, feeling dizzy and drunk.

"Where are you going to go?" he asks her when she reaches the door.

"I don't know," she says honestly.

She doesn't mention the post-it she'd stuffed into her purse when he wasn't paying attention, and she leaves without looking back.

* * * * *

Audrey drives halfway to Jac's and back three times. She's not counting, exactly, but it gets dark and she realizes she's been driving for hours. It's nearly nine and Audrey still has no idea what she wants to do.

She's been ignoring the dozens of calls from Frank and Pete, but she pulls over to the side of the road and calls Frank back, guilt and uncertainty nagging at her.

"Audrey? Where the fuck are you?" Frank asks breathlessly when she picks up the phone.

Audrey hesitates, partly because she doesn't know what to say and partly because she honestly has no idea where she is.

"Somewhere on the way to Jac's," she says finally. "I don't know where. I don't know what I'm doing, Frank."

Frank breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay, first of all, do not disappear without picking up your phone a few weeks after one of our best friends gets into a car accident, okay? We're all freaking the fuck out over here."

"I'm sorry," Audrey murmurs, but Frank is too busy yelling, "She's okay!"

"They all say you're an idiot," he says brightly into the phone. "And…Audrey, have you been driving all this time?"

Audrey stares at the cars on the highway streaking by her and thinks she would rather get run over by one of them than answer that honestly. "Not exactly," she says evasively.

"So that's a yes."

"I'm scared," she snaps, half-exasperated.

"Of what?" he asks her, and she knows that they both already know the answer.

"What if she doesn't want me back?" she gives in, voice trembling ever so slightly. "She left me."

Frank sighs again. "Audrey, she ran away from her parents too. Because she was scared. That doesn't mean she stopped loving them. I can't guarantee what's going to happen when you find her, but one of you has to stop being afraid."

Audrey takes a deep breath. It feels like being on the edge of a cliff, staring into the darkness below.

"I'm going to find her," she says, and she's diving down, down, down.

"Fuck yes," Frank says, a smile in his words, and Audrey can hear cheering in the background.

She sets off with renewed purpose but still without any semblance of a plan. She can't think of what to say or do when she gets to Jac's house. She doesn't know if she should apologize, if she really has anything to apologize for. It's her fucking movie moment, she's practically chasing the girl to the airport here, but she doesn't have anything to say when she catches her.

Fucking words.

But she passes an Apple store on the left and it all comes to her in one brilliant moment, and she knows it's going to work. The universe is taking care of her and it has to work.

* * * * *

She feels stupid when she pulls up to Jac's house and has to sit outside in her car for ten minutes trying to figure out how the iPod speakers work, fiddling around with buttons and dials.

She feels stupider walking up the lawn to the room she hopes against all hopes is Jac's, hoping the universe is still on her side.

She feels stupidest of all hoisting the little iPod speaker set over her head and pressing the button.

But it's her moment and she presses that button and In Your Eyes blares out, louder than she anticipated. It's the heaviest thing she's held in her life. It's the longest a song has ever felt.

And the door opens and Jac comes out and Audrey just stands there, staring at her.

"I couldn't think of anything more original," she blurts.

"You're so much fucking better than Lloyd Dobler," Jac replies.

When Jac kisses her, she drops the speakers on the ground next to them. But the song plays on and Jac's fingers are in her hair and it's better than the movies, better than anything.

It feels like forever until they break apart, and Jac is still holding onto her head, seemingly unable to let go.

"I'm so sorry, Audrey. I'm so fucking sorry. I fucked it all up when I left and I didn't know how to apologize. I wanted to…I've called your apartment a few times, but Frank always picks up. You were right about my parents, you know? You were always right."

She's speaking in jumbled sentences and Audrey grins fiercely, sure that she'll never stop smiling now.

"It doesn't matter," she says. "Just come home."

Jac nods and presses her lips to Audrey's. Audrey doesn't know where Jac will live when she gets back or if it'll last forever. But she repeats her own words in her head, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.

She has Jac and the whole world has color again.

Jac's parents let her stay the night. It's clear they're uncomfortable but they're anxiously polite, offering her dinner and nervously looking at Jac for reassurance the whole time. They give her the guest bedroom, but Jac whispers in her ear, "I'll come in after they go to bed."

It feels like forever and an instant all at the same time, but finally, finally the door opens and Jac launches herself at Audrey. They kiss for hours and Audrey thinks the butterflies in her stomach will never stop.

"I keep thinking I'm dreaming," she whispers to Jac.

"You're dreaming of sleeping in my parents' guest room?" Jac asks her, grinning impishly. Audrey smacks her with a pillow and it feels like they haven't been apart at all.

"I think I made a decision about my hair," Jac tells her hours later, yawning into Audrey's collar bone. They've exhausted every possible topic of conversation, forgetting to sleep.

Audrey glances at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Mmm. I think I want to be blonde again. But not that peroxide shit I was doing before. I think I'm just going to let my natural color grow out."

Audrey closes her eyes and tries to picture it. "I've never seen your natural color. I think I'd like to."

Jac nods. "But I think I'll keep that pink streak. It reminds of someone I kind of like."

They fall asleep curled up on the tiny single bed, arms crushed under heads and knees awkwardly hitting, a strange and uncomfortable mess.

It's the best sleep Audrey's ever had, and in her dreams, she sees a future of nights just as uncomfortable.

Just as right.

* * * * *

Audrey steps on stage with Pete and Tom on one side and Frank on the other, Chris making reassuring warm-up sounds on the drums behind her.

The lights are brighter than she remembered and the air is warmer and stickier and greasier. She's sweating before she even moves.

"This is the first time we've all played together in a long, long time," she says to the crowd, and they scream along willingly. "So we're playing a new song to celebrate our return. We are Shit Family, and this one's called "I Fucked A Girl From Orange County And All I Got Was This Stupid Relationship."

"And we're going to rock your fucking faces off," Pete screams into his microphone, and the crowd cheers louder than Audrey's ever heard before. Gerard catcalls from the back row and Frank pumps his fist in the air in response.

They launch into the song and Audrey holds onto the microphone for dear life while her boys spin and play behind her, and her girl dances in the front row, knocking people out of the way and waving her arms in the air, the only one in the crowd who knows the words.

It's nothing like fame. It's everything like perfection.

Bonus Material

Fanart:
Three scenes by leatherteal
We Are Shit Family by heroically

Fanmix(es):
are you free or are you tied up by squigglepie
Fanmix by takethispike