#ac^2

[serenasoutherlyns]

LOOK i know i KNOW i shouldnt write for rarepairs if i want my fics to get attn but . sad anyway

[serenasoutherlyns]

even in your darkest hour/even when the heart is cracked

“Are you sure? This is a good idea?” "I know how bad I want it.”

abbiealex (ac^2 to @claireskincaids), mature/explicit, ao3, 2500 words.

CW: rape mention, emetophobia/vomit.

“I just don’t understand why you have it out for this girl,” Alex says, sitting in the cream colored chair in her living room. Abbie had called her after work. She wasn’t quite sure why she wanted her ex-girlfriend’s company so badly, but she had. It’s getting dark out. Abbie flicks on her side table lamp.

“She just pisses me off,” she says, which is the truth. Alice Simonnelli’s attitude got to her then, and it’s getting to her now. “She has no sense of remorse, or responsibility, she acts like she hasn’t done anything to bring her situation upon herself.”

Alex looks at her over her glasses, incredulous. “Socks?” She says, echoing Jack’s sentiment from that afternoon, his exact words. “Marijuana?”

“Who knows what she’s not telling us.”

“So she was asking for it?” Alex says, a touch of animosity in her voice— but mostly disbelief.

Abbie is tired of explaining herself to people. Actually, she’s very tired in general. “She’s not some powerless flower.” Her voice is quieter than she wants it to be.

Alex sighs, and sets down the glass of wine she’s been drinking. “Abbie, there is no such thing as consent between a prisoner and a guard.” She says, and Abbie knows that by the letter of the law, she’s right. “I’d better go. You get some sleep.”

Though she tries— even takes some of the ages-old melatonin she has in her medicine cabinet— sleep eludes her until early morning. She tosses and turns, feels sick to her stomach, and only passes out when physical exhaustion takes over.

She wakes up crying. It’s only six. Three hours of sleep isn’t enough. She gulps the water on her nightstand like she’s dying of thirst.

—

“Have you ever been raped, Miss Carmichael?” Echoes in her head all evening, like a bell that won’t stop ringing.

And worse things are echoing. The memories that have been getting louder and more vivid for weeks. She thought she was over this. She’s nauseous when they walk into Adam’s office.

“Just looking for a little solace,” Jack says. Abbie could use some solace. Her mouth is dry, and she’s getting a headache. She feels exhausted, like she’s fighting against her subconscious for some foothold, some way to control herself.

“Why don’t we give her a call,” she gets out, her voice breaking. Thank God it’s the evening. She wants to crawl into bed, and sleep for days. Jack’s surprised look makes her headache worse.

Jack calls Melnick and sets up a meeting for the morning. She can tell he’s on the edge of asking her what’s wrong, and she’s grateful he doesn’t. He knows how not to push her.

She calls Alex again when she gets home, though she knows it’s really too late for that to be polite.

“Is everything alright?” Alex says when she picks up. The worry in her voice stings.

“Yeah.” Abbie doesn’t convince even herself with how her voice shakes. “I’m, I don’t feel well.”

“You need to sleep, Ab.” Her voice is painfully soft. She hasn’t called her that nickname in a long, long time.

“I don’t think I can,” is her whispered reply. A tear falls down her cheek. She hiccups.

“I’ll be there soon,” Alex says. “Put the kettle on.”

Abbie takes a breath in through her nose. “Chamomile?”

“Whatever you want. Fifteen minutes.”

It’s too quiet when Alex hangs up. Abbie makes the tea in the blue near-dark. She puts on pajamas while the water boils, an old pair of flannel pants and a sweatshirt. She rubs her eyes. She washes her face, and the red puffiness under her eyes turns her stomach. It reminds her of how she’d looked when…

She can’t finish that thought. She’s glad she’s close to the toilet, because she starts to salivate, and seconds later, her guts are pouring out of her. The acid hurts her throat. She can’t make it to the door at the first knock, and when the second comes louder she shouts, “Coming!” In its direction. She undoes the chain and opens the door as little as possible to let Alex inside.

“I heard about your cross,” she says sympathetically. Abbie nods, holding the tears back. Alex holds a hand to her forehead. “Is it a stomach bug? No wonder you weren’t one-hundred percent.” Abbie shakes her head. She’s not sure what she would say, even if she could talk.

When the tears start flowing, she can’t stop them. Alex has never seen her cry like this, in fact, Abbie isn’t sure if Alex has ever seen her cry. She hardly sees it herself.

“Whoa,” Alex says, perplexed. Abbie crashes her head into Alex’s shoulder. “Shh, shh.” Alex freezes for a moment, Abbie imagines out of confusion, then she rests a hand on the back of her head. The nausea returns. Abbie all but runs back to the bathroom, and hears Alex’s clicking footsteps following quickly behind her. Abbie dry-heaves into the toilet, but nothing comes out. Alex’s hand on her back starts to reassure her. “Hey. Take a deep breath.”

Abbie pulls a shaky breath, that fills her lungs all the way. She’s dizzy. “I,” she starts to say, but can’t get more than that out.

“Shh,” Alex says. It sounds a bit unnatural coming out of her mouth. She’s never been the most comforting presence, but she always has done her best. Abbie appreciates it. “Some stomach bug. Maybe we should take you to the ER for fluids.”

“No,” Abbie turns her head to the side. She sits down on the cold tile floor, and the shock of it brings a part of her back to the room. Alex joins her. “I’m ok.”

“Like hell you are.” Alex cocks her head to the side, and then stares forward, like she came to a realization. “Did something happen in court today?” She asks.

Abbie gulps and wipes her eyes. “Something Alice said.” She whispers. Alex holds out her hand for Abbie’s. She takes it, and Alex rubs a circle across her knuckles.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks.

“No,” Abbie says quietly. She shakes her head.

“Okay,” Alex says, and gives her a sad half-smile. “How about that cup of tea?”

Abbie has the hiccups again, nods, lets Alex pull her up from the floor. She’s a bit light-headed. Alex pours her the tea, and it warms her up from the insides. They don’t exchange many words, and Alex gets Abbie in bed with the suggestion of a hand leading her down the hallway.

“Can you stay?” She requests with a pathetic creak in her voice. She’s so, so tired.

“Sure,” Alex says. She rubs circles on her back. “Just sleep,” she says, and Abbie does.

—

Abbie must look confused when she wakes up beside Alex for the first time in a year, grateful it’s a Saturday. “I wasn’t sure if you meant for me to stay the night or not,” she says by way of explanation.

“I didn’t really think about it,” Abbie says, sighing.

“I hope it’s okay that I did.” Alex smiles, scrunches her eyes slightly.

“Yeah, it is. Thanks.” Despite her empty stomach, she hasn’t slept this well since the Simonnelli trial started. She always has slept better next to Alex. Alex, who is beside her, her hair frizzy from sleep, in a half cami and a pair of Abbie’s sweatpants. She can’t keep herself from touching them with her thumb and forefinger, saying, “I always liked you in these.”

Alex raises her eyebrows. “Someone’s had a change of heart. I only recall you complaining about me stealing them.” Abbie hums noncommittally, sits up on her forearms, stretches. Her stomach growls. They both laugh. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Abbie groans. “So, a little better.”

“Good,” Alex says. Abbie only realizes she’s still playing with the cotton when Alex covers her hand with her own and stops her fidgeting. The soft weight of Alex’s palm sends a shiver over her skin, that is at once comforting and a bit scary. She squeezes. “Do you think you can eat something?”

“I’m starving, actually,” Abbie realizes as she says it.

“Do you have, like, eggs?”

“Of course I have eggs, Alex, not that I trust you with them.”

Alex looks at her familiarly. “Toast?”

Abbie shakes her head. “Not even that.”

“Honestly, you shouldn’t. Bagels, then. My treat.” Abbie nods and yawns. “I’ll go get some. You stay put.”

“I don’t have consumption.”

Alex shoots her a look that Abbie remembers means, stop arguing with me, or else. “Stay. Put.” She repeats. Abbie raises her hands in surrender. Alex taps her shoulder as she gets out of bed.

As her footsteps leave the room, and when the door closes, Abbie feels herself smile for the first time in ages.

—

“You remembered my order,” Abbie says, more excited than she means to sound, as she unwraps the bagel Alex hands her. She doesn’t usually eat in bed, but, well. She may as well. She’s not sure Alex would let her get out of bed.

“It’s a bacon, egg, and cheese. Whoa there,” she pivots when she looks up from her lox and notices how Abbie is scarfing it down. “It’s not running away from you.”

“So good,” she doesn’t bother to address the teasing. “Thanks.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Don’t remember,” Abbie says, then thinks about it. “I had dinner the day before yesterday.”

“Abbie,” Alex scolds.

“I know.”

“That was always my bad habit, not yours.”

“I know,” Abbie concedes. Alex looks concerned.

“What happened in court? What shook you up so bad? I’ve never seen you like this. ” She says gently, undemanding. “You don’t have to talk about it. I won’t make you,” she continues when Abbie turns her head to the side. “But, maybe it would feel good?”

“Yeah, maybe.” It’s quiet between them as Abbie takes a few more bites of her sandwich. Alex sips a cup of coffee. “I was a freshman,” she starts, staring into her sheets. “He was a third year law student. I never told anybody.” She pauses, and studies Alex’s expression, which, she’s pleased to find does not fit her fears: no trace of pity, in fact, it remains more or less neutral. “I blamed myself, but not anymore.” She finishes the admission with a resolute finality, even though her voice shakes.

She’s grateful when Alex reaches across and holds her hand, and doesn’t say anything. “Alice said, while I was cross-examining her, ‘Have you ever been raped, Miss Carmichael?’ And I felt this, pit of guilty dread. I thought I was over it, what happened.”

“It’s okay to not be,” Alex says.

—

Abbie sleeps even more in the afternoon, going in and out, catching up. Alex hardly leaves her side all day, though she ducks out for the paper, and a magazine for good measure. She reads the good parts out loud to Abbie in her awake or lightly dozing moments. It’s good, but slightly odd, different. Abbie had always taken care of Alex, before. Alex’s relative emotional instability combined with Abbie’s type-A composure made it so. Abbie is too tired to hold up any walls today, and lets Alex play with her hair and bring her glasses of water to drink.

When the evening comes around, and Abbie is refreshed, she offers: “You can go home, if you want.”

“I don’t really,” Alex replies. “But I will if you need space.”

Abbie considers whether she does, and lands somewhere completely different. She abruptly changes topics to something that has been in the back of her mind all day: “I don’t know what it is. But Alex. You look so good in my pants.”

Alex honest-to-God guffaws at Abbie’s unintentional innuendo. “I’ve always admired your talent for subtlety.” Abbie rolls her eyes.

“Take the compliment,” she rasps.

“Well,” Alex shrugs. “I like being in your pants. They’re good pants.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Abbie.”

“Alex.” Her voice is hushed and vulnerable. She looks into Alex’s eyes and sees her pupils wide. Of course, that could be just because of the rapidly darkening sky— but then, she sees her eyes roam up and down her body as she sits beside her. She notices their thighs are pressed together, and she notices how little space there is between their faces, and how she could reach up with her hand and touch her warm cheek, and then she notices that she already has.

She doesn’t know who kisses who first. Alex lets her take the lead when they do, though, like she often used to. She relishes her surrendering mouth, her arms that encourage her to slip a leg over so she’s straddling her lap. When their languid dance breaks naturally, Abbie rests her head, warm on Alex’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Alex whispers. “This is a good idea?”

“Hm,” Abbie quietly returns. “I know how bad I want it.” She dodges the question, because she isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to be doing this. But, she does know she wants it, deep in her body, and crystal clear in her rested mind.

Her non-answer must be good enough for Alex, who trails one of her hands from where it has been interlocked on the small of her back to trace upwards, lingering between her shoulder blades, then up to where her neck meets her spine.

“Ah,” Abbie reacts. She recalls when Alex had discovered that particular spot, one day when they first got together, and how she still knows just when, just how to touch her there. “Mm.”

“What do you want?” She murmurs. Abbie thinks about it for a second, because you has never been a specific enough answer for Alex. When she does reply, it’s not in words— leaning back, biting her lip. She kisses her jaw, neck, collarbones. She feels her slight chest over the fabric of her camisole, and then her bare stomach above her left hip. She quivers, and Abbie is reminded of her own intimate knowledge of Alex’s body.

She hesitates when she comes to taking her pants off of Alex. “You okay?” She asks.

“Yeah, thanks. I just like these on you.” Alex holds her hand.

“I’ll put them back on eventually. But, it’s not like we’re in a rush, Ab.”

Abbie nods, and rests her head against her right thigh. Alex pushes her rumpled hair out of her eyes. Abbie agrees with that need, and reaches for a hair tie on her nightstand. She hands it to Alex, whose hands tremble a bit when she ties her hair up into a ponytail for her. “No rush,” Abbie agrees, “but you should take them off.”

Alex smiles, and does, and makes her typical quiet sound of satisfaction when Abbie touches her. She loves to hear it.

—

Abbie wipes her mouth on the back of her hand when Alex’s breathing starts to calm from its heaviness. She stands, and fondly touches Alex’s thigh before she goes to the kitchen. She gets two glasses of water, Alex’s without ice. She looks in her refrigerator for something to make for dinner, but finds nothing inspiring. She opens her drawer full of delivery menus and finds a couple that are appealing.

“Alex?” She calls into the hall.

“Yeah?”

“Chinese noodles or tacos?”

She hears Alex’s footsteps in the hall, and soon feels the correctness of her head on her shoulder.

“Noodles,” Alex says, and kisses her cheek. “Definitely noodles.”

[andersoncoopercnncyborg]

we can always count on andy for the wholesome content :’)

[djrobzilla]

S.K.I.P. will be playing TONIGHT at Spin Cycle On Tap!! For a sneak preview of his music before you go to the show, head out to the wayward council for a free mini-show where he'll perform a song from his album and do a meet and greet.