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Empty Beds & Bad Behaviors

Just like she’d been in since the incident, Scar was basically in a catatonic state. As he spoke, she didn’t even look at him, just tucked her legs into her chest in a futile attempt to quell the ache in her chest that never really seemed to go away. Although it may have seemed as though his words hadn’t even resonated with her, but they had and she scoffed. He was leaving. Again. She should have kicked him out after she finally revealed the truth to him, but he had offered her a comfort she couldn’t deny herself, though deep down she knew it would eventually come to this again. “You don’t need to give me some bullshit excuse. You never made me any promises, remember? I have long stopped having expectations where you’re concerned.” Still she didn’t look at him, just stared blankly ahead. “Just fucking leave already. And don’t bother coming back.”

jacksonwhitford-blog

Jackson couldn't believe that she would truly be okay with things if he never came back. Scar had more than hinted that she would be but he refused to believe it. Despite his presence in her life being dangerous, a part of him wished for her to want him there. She wasn't the only person that needed someone though and if it wasn't Scarlett then he would end up going crazy all on his own for reasons that involved her. Knowing that Scarlett had lost their little girl was one thing, but he would in fact make himself sick with worry if he let go of Scarlett. He tried once and that was how he realized that he needed her more than it was safe for him to admit. It was why he had come looking for her again, after all, even if it meant that he would have to keep an eye on her from afar. "It's not some bullshit excuse. If it were you would be able to tell. I actually would have no reason to even give you an excuse... I left the first time without a word. Why wouldn't I do the same if it was bullshit?" he asked her, needing for her to understand that this wasn't as easy for him to do as she thought it was. "I can't promise you that I wouldn't come back."

#emptybeds

jacksonwhitford-blog

Empty Beds & Bad Behaviors

scarlett--sinclair

It shouldn’t have been a surprise; after all, this was what he did. And yet even as she repeated that in her mind, it didn’t dull the pang in her chest. “Well this feels eerily familiar, doesn’t it?” Her voice was lifeless, mostly because she couldn’t even conjure up the strength to sound angry or hurt. Besides, it was inevitable, wasn’t it? Jackson wasn’t the person who would stay in one place for long. It was almost as though it made him anxious, like he couldn’t handle any sort of stability…which was the complete opposite of what Scarlett needed right now. “So what does it say?” she asked, gesturing to the note. “Might as well save me the suspense. I guess I should be glad. At least you left a note this time.” She moved away from the door, not trying to block his exit. If he wanted to leave, she sure as hell wouldn’t stand in his way. She sat on the couch, refusing to even look at him. “If you want to leave, you know the way out. Just go. I don’t need you, anyway. I never did.”

jacksonwhitford-blog

Scarlett knew from the very beginning what he was like and none of it should have surprised her. It didn't actually and that only made Jackson feel more guilty about what he was trying to do now. He didn't know how he'd be able to get her to really understand that she was better off without him and with him. Not only was it like that on an emotional level but but in a physical one. He wasn't sure if he still had a target on his back everywhere he ran but it was likely that he did, and this was the type of thing that he wouldn't even know how to explain to her either. He swallowed hard at her question, wishing she would have just read it and gone back to bed. He pursed his lips trying to decide what he should even say to her now. "... It said that I don't know when I'd be back. That I'd call you when I got the chance." Jack knew that he should have expected this to be her reaction the second he realized she was already waiting to watch him leave. "I don't want to leave, Scarlett," he sighed heavily. "It's just not- I'm not safe for you."

#emptybeds

Empty Beds & Bad Behaviors

I have to go.

He wrote onto the paper, the pen beginning to give out.

I don't know when I'll be back. I'll call you when I can. - Jack

He set the paper on her dresser where he knew she would find it after having folded it in half and quietly left her room. Jack walked slowly to the living room looking for the jacket he had lost track of since he had first gotten there. He hadn't left in a while and after a while it had even begun to feel domestic minus a lot of the things couples did. Mostly normal things like hold conversations about normal things like how long the line at the grocery store was or traffic. Things like that never found a way into their conversations. Just as he found it, he turned to find Scarlett standing only a few feet from him and the path to the front door.

#emptybeds

scarlett--sinclair

The Thing | Jackson and Scarlett

scarlett--sinclair

Seeing him was harder than she could have even imagined. It made her heart hammer faster against her chest, and her blood still screamed for him just like it had when things were so much simpler. Scarlett didn’t even have the energy to care what he thought of her, the shell of the woman he’d once claimed to know so well. Now, he was clueless. She could tell he didn’t want to be. Not knowing was eating him alive just as the truth was doing to her. If he’d been there, they wouldn’t even need to have this conversation. But maybe he’d have told her to get rid of it - another guilt trip. Or maybe…maybe he’d have loved it. He never spoke much about his family, at least not to her, but he always seemed like the loner. Like when he disappeared, no one even noticed. But she had. And maybe that was something he wanted. The thought made her heart clench.

There was no point wasting time on what if’s. He was here for a reason. And perhaps once she told him everything, the burden would be lifted from her shoulders. What was it they always said? The truth will set you free. And right now, it was killing her. Scarlett shamelessly raked her eyes over him, taking in the man she hadn’t seen in so long. So much had happened since then. The sky had fallen in since she last saw him. Everything was different. “You look older,” she finally said. “Better, I think.” She was putting off the inevitable; she knew it, and undoubtedly he did too.

Glancing down at her lap, she knew it was only a matter of time before the tears inevitably fell, but she’d hold off for as long as possible. “The beginning.” It was almost a whisper, and probably intended more for him than for her. Another deep breath and she fixed her gaze at a spot on the floor across from her, unable to meet his eyes, trying to recount everything. “When you left, I wanted to fix things with my parents. I was close, too. Until my doting ex fiance released news of my affair to every news outlet in the nation. Of course, the scandal destroyed all the progress I’d made. My parents wanted nothing to do with me. I always thought, if Tati were there, she would have found the stories hilarious. They had all kinds of speculations: a New York socialite to Pakistani prince. It was ridiculous,” she smiled to herself though she found no real humor in it. “I think then, I was still convinced you were coming back. It took two weeks before I knew otherwise.” She drew a ragged breath. “I was so alone during that time. That was when my brother started worrying about me. And when I started getting sick. I struggled with a mild case of bulimia in high school, and once my brother caught on, he demanded I go see a doctor. Only I knew better. I knew. And I had been avoiding it since it struck me. But the doctor confirmed it.” Her voice felt like it wasn’t her own, like it was someone else talking. “Pregnant.”

"The first week, it still felt unreal. Carter had no clue how to process it. Meanwhile I kept pinching myself hoping to wake up from the nightmare that had somehow become my life. I swore then I hated you, and I was so angry at you for leaving. I swore I didn’t want this baby, that any reminder of you made me physically ill." She paused, a sob choking her as her eyes welled with unshed tears. She hated this level of vulnerability, which is why she shared this information with no one. "But I grew to love her. I did. I really did. I was able to envision our lives. Even if part of me still wished she didn’t exist, wished I didn’t have to bring her into this mess that was my life. It was complicated enough on her own."

Looking back at her lap she played with her fingernails, gazed fixed as she bit her quivering lip and the first few tears began to fall. “I knew. I knew before it had even happened. I just…felt it. She was gone before I even woke up in a puddle of blood. There was…so much blood. She was so tiny and I was only fourteen weeks, but it was like a massacre in my bed. In fact, that was exactly what it was.” Another choked sob as the tears came freely now. “I hated myself so much. I wanted her gone. I wished her dead, so she died. It was all my fault. I couldn’t even blame you, even though I wanted to. Even though I did. But all along I knew it was my fault. And that knowledge has been eating away at my life ever since. I can’t get over it, I only get worse. I can’t make up for it.” For the first time since she began, she looked at him. “I can’t change. Or I would have. I promise I would.” Her gaze dropped again. “If you hate me, it’s okay. I was prepared for as much. You just…you needed to know. You deserved to know.” Her eyes met his, filled with all the torment she’d felt since the moment it happened. “I killed our baby. I killed your little girl. And I am so, so sorry.”

jacksonwhitford-blog

Jackson had come here for the information that she wanted to give him. Oblivious to what it was, he knew that it had to be something big, important. If it weren't then Scarlett would've disposed of the information the same way that she tried to dispose of all the memories of the time that they had spent together before he disappeared. He was alive before then, not like many people probably felt but his heart was pumping, his mind was as calculating and on point of his surroundings as ever. All of that felt as if it didn't exist literally in the blink of an eye- maybe less than that. The feeling wasn't new to him except this time he had no idea what to do about it.

Dead. That's how he felt, that's how he'd put it if someone asked him what he was feeling but the thing about being dead was that at that point you just didn't feel anything at all. What he really knew was the road to it, he had felt it before and each time that he'd stepped onto that road it was different. The pain was never the same as the time before that. At the moment he couldn't remember what any of those times felt like. There were times when he'd be changing for whatever reason, either in or out of what he considered his work clothes, and he's see the scars which reminded him of the times he'd been close to death. The most recent one being on his left shoulder; it was one that he'd see from time to time and feel some pride. He was able to remember the moment in which the wound had been made, it was fresh and vivid in his mind. Jackson could swear that he was still able to smell the blood. Now as he sat in the unknown apartment he couldn't feel it anymore. In comparison to how he was feeling now, that wound was nothing more than a small pinch. Sometimes they all felt that way because the more damage he took the more he convinced himself that nothing would truly hurt him enough to kill him. Death was going to catch up to him someday and right now he could've sworn that it had just caught up to him and had decided to take the slow and painful route to finish him.

The air from his lungs was gone, his heart was beating slower than ever, and he couldn't even seem to mentally process anything. He'd never really been the type to actually hope that God would get him out of something, he always got himself out of things and made his own luck when it came to life or death situations. This was one that he had never been prepared for though. He hadn't been prepared for it and he was sure that Scarlett hadn't been prepared for something like this to happen either. She had just said so herself that she tried to wish her away- their little girl.

Shifting his eyes from the floor to her, the last few words ringing through his ears as if someone was playing it back on some voice recorder. Seeing her expression made his insides twist and turn in ways he had never thought were even possible. She understood if she hated him, actually, he was half sure that she wished that he really did hate her. Some part of her would love that, it would make it much easier for the both of them to wipe their hands clean of anything that had to do with the other. He knew that this wasn't her fault though, not completely. Jackson could have been there, things could have been different. He remembered his reasons for leaving and now they all just seemed so, so stupid. He could've found a way to stay and not leave her alone, he should have known better than to really believe that she was fine after everything that she had been through and during his absence she went through much worse.

Getting up from the place he had taken he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Looking around, as if for an escape he undid the two top buttons on his shirt before removing his coat. Damn the fucking weather, he thought to himself knowing well that it was well into low temperatures outside but that's not what it felt like. Running both of his hands through his hair he turned to look down at her again, "Why didn't you tell me before?" He didn't expect an answer but it was the only thing that came to mind. "You could've...you could've told me about her sooner." Jackson didn't do helplessness well, he had learned how to handle himself in almost every situation. This wasn't in the handbook though or in anything as far as he knew. "I could've done something."

#the thing

scarlett--sinclair

The Thing | Jackson and Scarlett

scarlett--sinclair

The hour had passed in silence as she stared blankly at the door, thoughts still mulling around in her mind. It struck her that she hadn’t told him explicitly where to find her, and there was no way to know how far away he was or long it would take for him to arrive. But he would find her; he always did. And he’d promised her tonight, and for whatever reason she trusted him. It wasn’t even like, given the circumstances, she had reason to. Last time she trusted him she watched on the sidelines as her life crumbled down around her. It was perhaps her greatest flaw, that she trusted people so easily despite herself most of the time. And usually it produced the same results. Didn’t someone once say insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? Scarlett, however, had embraced her own insanity ages ago.

The only sound in the room was the old clock that hung above the sink slowly ticking, each second seeming like a millennium. And yet, she welcomed the time. Because the closer it he got to arriving, the sooner she’d have to reveal the truth to him. When the doorbell finally sounded, she flinched, though she’d been expecting it all along. Her heart raced and in her brain she registered that this was the moment of truth - quite literally. Taking deep breaths, she made a feeble attempt at gathering herself as she crossed the living room to open the door. When she did, she felt her heart stop. Even after so long, it was as though nothing changed. He looked exactly the same. And her heart ached.

Somewhere between wanting to slap him and kiss him, she found that she was mostly paralyzed. He looked so good, and his smell even so far away was still so familiar. She knew that since they had last met in person she had only deteriorated. Scarlett was once a strong, confident woman with absolutely everything going for her. She brought men, including the one in front of her, to their knees. And right now, all she was was powerless, meek, and miserable. Realizing that he was probably waiting for her to do something, she pursed her lips together and moved to let him in, closing the door behind him. She knew she should have said something, but she was so afraid it would have been something she regretted later; not that it would matter much, since he would likely want nothing to do with her once all was said and done. “There is coffee…and whiskey, as promised. You can help yourself.” Dressed only in sweats and a tank top with her hair thrown up in a messy bun, she would bet money on the fact that he was wondering what he had ever gotten himself into or what the hell had happened to her. There was no question about it: she’d gone downhill. Taking a seat on the couch with her legs crossed, she waited for him to join her. Running a hand through her hair, she felt the overwhelming weight of her task weighing heavily on her shoulders. “I don’t-” she began, nearly choking on the words. “I don’t know where to begin.”

jacksonwhitford-blog

This felt familiar, the way he would make his way to her whenever she called but this time it wasn't for the same reasons. She wanted to talk to him about something that he had no knowledge on and it had begun to do more than just keep him wondering what it was. It was frustrating him, something he was used to when it came to Scarlett. He had grown used to feeling more than just that when it came to her and unfortunately for him he knew that there wasn't really anything that he could do about these other things that he was feeling. He had also come to terms with them until after he had disappeared. Now, for the past year he'd been filled with nothing but regret along with the debate with himself over how leaving had been the right thing to do.

Now, Jackson wasn't sure what the right thing to do was anymore. It didn't matter either because there wasn't much hope left in him that Scarlett could ever actually let him be more than just someone she occasionally got in contact with for whatever reasons she had. Jackson didn't deserve much more than that from Scarlett though but he just had to come see her now. Part of him wanted to see her just to see for himself how she was doing and that hoped she wouldn't ask him to leave her alone once she was done telling him. Nothing was making sense in his mind anymore and it was becoming evident in the way that he was currently shifting his eyes to the street behind him every few seconds that passed, contemplating whether he should leave before she even got the chance to see him. Jackson had never not actually shown up whenever he said that he would. Something always kept him going to her no matter how far apart they were.

His heart was racing and he hated the feeling of it inside his chest, it was something he had learned to never really have to deal with. He was always calm and collected in most situations, even when there was a big possibility that he'd get shot right between the eyes. Scarlett was someone who got a lot out of him though in both good ways and bad ways. When the door opened though, he could no longer feel the frantic beating of his heart that was threatening to rip right out of him. Most would have taken her attire into thought instantly but he couldn't seem to focus on anything other than her eyes. They were the same but different at the same time. Her eyes seemed tired and worn from what he could only assume were tears. Not wanting to think about that he hesitantly stepped inside when she moved aside. He said nothing to the offer she spoke of, the one she had promised in regards to the coffee and whiskey but he didn't take any of it either. His throat already felt dry as if he'd been talking all night when he actually couldn't even remember if he'd spoken at all throughout the day but still didn't help himself. He didn't even want to take a seat, afraid to do much else than just look at her from where he was standing but did so anyway. "Begin at the start," he said hoarsely. The start was a painfully obvious place to begin but he didn't know what she was even trying to tell him.

#the thing

scarlett--sinclair

The Thing | Jackson and Scarlett

Since the last message was sent it was as though she could not sit still. Her nerves over the past hour had threatened to be the end of her. It was insane; first, that she would even contact him in the first place (especially sober), but offering to tell him? Scarlett was on a suicide mission. Of course he’d hate her. Despite everything, he would despise her at the end of this. Who else was there to blame, after all? And how many times did she tell everyone - her therapist, her brother, herself - that she wished it gone? How many times had she seriously thought she’d be better off if the thing just disappeared? The memories of the nights she laid awake in bed clutching her slightly swollen bump wishing it away made her nauseous. She had killed her baby. Jackson’s baby. And she deserved every last minute of misery she’d suffered since.

Her fingers traced the rim then the handle of the coffee mug she had promised would be waiting for him. It shouldn’t have surprised her, his promise to be there so soon; the whole thing was very Jackson. He was an arrogant son of a bitch, but never once had he failed to come when he promised he would. Even if he had a knack for disappearing soon after. God, how would she tell him this? Where would she even begin? The beginning would seem most logical, perhaps, but how could she tell him how much she hated him? Or, more accurately, how badly she wished she did. He abandoned her, essentially. Phone disconnected. No word, no goodbye, not even a damn note. And yet, he left her with an eternal reminder, in her eyes a burden to carry until the end of her days. Little did she know, even when relieved from her like she’d sworn to herself all those weeks that she’d wanted, it left her with an irreparable scar.

As she stood leaning against the counter and wrapping her sweater tighter around herself, she began to think she needed the whiskey more than he would. But these days, once the alcohol began seeping into her veins she couldn’t bring herself to stop. All she wanted was to be numb, and the alcohol flooding her mind helped her to escape, if only for a little while. Her life had really become a mess - and she didn’t even know where to begin picking up the pieces.

jacksonwhitford-blog

It wasn't a part of his plan to see her, not tonight, not ever if he was being completely honest. That choice hadn't been made because he didn't want to see her though, it was his way of doing what Scarlett wanted from him which was nothing. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't care that she wanted nothing to do with him. If she wanted that though, he was at least going to try to make sure she was alright but keeping track of her whereabouts was hardly helpful. Sure, he knew where she was but that didn't really mean much at all. That though, he had stopped doing as well but not because it wasn't something she wanted him to do. Jackson was no longer at liberty to do a lot of things that he did on a day to day basis. He was running now and as much as he disliked it, he needed to let go of things that were important.

When he found out that Scarlett was in the same city that he had come to, he couldn't help but think that maybe there was a reason for that- a reason that was unknown to him. Maybe this was it though, the reason he was going to see her now was probably it. Jackson didn't know what to expect and something was telling him that it wouldn't be good. Not only that but for a while he thought that what he needed to do was just stay as far away from Scarlett as possible for her own benefit. He had already ruined her life enough, he didn't want to upset her even more either. He knew well that she hadn't forgiven him for disappearing the way that he did and she never really would no matter how many times he apologized for it. He could tell her why he had to go but the chances of her believing him were very slim.

Making his way through the dark streets of the city which were somewhat brightly lit because of the lights, he couldn't help but think about what it was she needed to tell him. He wasn't even looking at where he was going and he didn't really have to even though he had only been in the city for no more than two weeks. It was almost as if he just knew how to get to her even when he hadn't been keeping track of her location. Soon he would be there and he didn't even know what he was going to say; he didn't even know how he was going to say hello or if he should just let her do all of the talking for the both of them. Arriving at what he assumed, or knew was the place, he questioned himself. Was it a good idea to be there? Before he could decide he rang the doorbell and waited. Jackson didn't know if he should expect to see her or the cousin she mentioned, he just waited for someone to answer the door.

#the thing