2008-02-07: Stay


Jack_icon.gif Trina_icon.gif

Summary: Jack ups the ante on a promise.

Date It Happened: February 7, 2008


A Hotel Room

The drive from Therapy to the nearest decent hotel with vacancy was short and fairly quiet. There'd been too much excitement for Jack when they were at the strip club for him to think much about conversation, though he was thoughtful enough to stop and buy Trina a t-shirt and a pair of sweats en route.

While she waits in the car, he steps into the hotel office and checks her in. The bill is paid for two weeks in advance, with an additional amount to cover any incidentals. Then Jack hurries back outside, opens the passenger door, and stretches a hand out to his fiancee. "C'mon, baby. Let's get you inside. Room's right over here." He gestures to a door a few spaces down with a streetside entrance.

The lack of conversation really isn't a problem for Trina. What could she possibly want to say? Fortunately, she still has the majority of her clothes scattered about the trunk of her car, even if she doesn't have the energy to really go rifling through it. A coat used as a pillow frees Jack up to have his well fitted suit jacket back once she pulls it into the front seat, although her perfume now mingles with his own scent on his garment. After a quiet utterance of thanks for the clean clothes he buys for her, she affords him a nervous glance before she peels her coat off and starts pulling the blissfully baggy items on over her so-called work uniform.

The rest of the short ride, she just sits beside him with her feet pulled up onto the seat and her chin resting on the knees she hugs.

When they reach the hotel, she waits while he deals with logistics and then offers a small smile as he comes to fetch her — the very model of a gentleman. He opens her door. He offers his hand.

She gingerly reaches out one of her false-clawed hands to take his, gratefully taking the assistance to get up to her feet. The painfully high shoes are still on her feet to protect her from the cold cement, and she hunches to offset their height. Inside is good.

Jack has his girl back now. Trina. His love. He hurries to her side as if even the brief seperation of booking a room had been uncomfortable for him. One hand cups around hers and holds it to his chest; the other rests on the small of her back and guides her toward the door with gentle pressure. "Baby, I'm sorry," he murmurs. "For everything. C'mon, come in here and rest." Deep, furrowed lines of concern mar his forehead as he presses his cheek to her hair, soaking her up and basking in her presence. "I'ma take care of you, don't worry."

The hotel room in unlocked and Jack leads them in. It's a simple affair; a single, comfortable bed, a dresser and nightstand, and an entertainment hutch with television that's respectably-sized, if aging. The bathroom even contains most of the amenities of home.

Once the light is flicked on, the Irishman leads his lover in and locks up behind them. When he turns back toward her, he smiles and reaches toward her again hesitantly.

Trina's not entirely certain what to do with the rush of attention. She pulls her coat to her, however, and gratefully rests her head on Jack's chest as they make their way inside. There are apologies being made; she hears them. She doesn't know, however, how to respond to them. She just clings on to him. It's the best answer that she can come up with.

Once they're inside the room, her blue eyes look around. As Jack steps away to handle the door, her shoulders instinctively go back to hunching as an expression of her uncertainty, hands unsure if they should be plunged in pockets or still clinging her coat to her. It is a nice room. Far better than she's seen since she left, and far warmer. This is… still really awkward. He's being so… so… nice. It isn't what she was expecting. She casts a nervous glance up to Jack. "Why are we here?" Not at the apartment being the unspoken part of that inquiry.

"Because… Just because," Jack replies awkwardly. He pulls in a deep breath to steady himself and then brushes the backs of his fingers against Trina's cheek tenderly. "I put you in that position. Me. And I'm sorry. I'm gonna take care of you now, promise. This place is paid up for a while, and I'll leave you some pocket money when I go."

His hand slides down to cup and squeeze against her shoulder reassuringly. "Missed you," he whispers.

He missed her. He's leaving. Trina presses her face against his fingertips, and she tries desperately to ignore the words that she hates most of the whole spiel. She really, truly does. But… she can't.

When he drops his hand to her shoulder, that's the last thing that was keeping her from opening her mouth again. Her lips, after twitching up and down in degrees, finally decide that the frown is more honest. She looks at Jack from beneath a furrowed brow and sighs. Her voice is a little choked when she speaks again. "And you're still gonna leave." She drops her head and looks to the floor. "How long?"

Immediately, Jack cups both his hands against Trina's face and tips her head back so he can look her in the eye. "It won't be long," he whispers. "I promise. Things have gotten out of hand. I have to figure it out. Put an end to it all."

It's as close to an admission as he's come. Not just his words, but his tone. He can't say it. It hurts too much. Somewhere, though, he's aware that much of what's wrong is his doing, and none of it is Trina's.


He drops one of his hands and leans back just far enough that he can dig into one pocket of his slacks. At first, what he withdraws is difficult to identify in the dim light. Some sort of chain; very fine. When he holds it up in front her face, it all becomes clear. There's an emerald claddagh ring dangling from the end of the necklace. Solemnly, he fastens the clasp around her neck and lets the ring dangle down past her collarbone. In contrast to his intensity just a moment ago, now he speaks quietly, and without meeting Trina's gaze. "When I come back to you, you can wear that on your finger."

When her face is drawn back up, Trina watches Jack with watery eyes framed in thick, false lashes. Stupid and weak, she knows it is. But she just got him back. She just got him back, and now he's saying he's leaving her again. He says he'll come back, but it's so hard to believe him. Even the word 'promise' is so conflicted now. He's promised before. He's promise, promised before. And he's broken them. That hurts.

When he pulls back, her shoulders again resort to that timid, uncertain hunch and her blue eyes affix themselves upon him cautiously. Her head tilts a little as he fiddles in his pocket. And then there it is. A ring. She swallows hard, but doesn't resist as he moves to reach inside the collar of her coat and set the necklace about her neck. She watches as it bounces against the skin revealed by peeling back that outer layer. Trina keeps her attention there and presses her painted lips together. "Jack, if you don't come back…"

If he doesn't come back, what the heck is she going to do? She's contemplating staying here on the premise that he will, but what if he doesn't? No one else would hire her. No one but that horrible place where she could never, ever belong. The tears start welling up again, and her knee starts bobbing. And he found her there? Was that on purpose? An accident? She doesn't even know.

But there's a ring on her skin, warmed by his hands and set against her cool flesh, and she can't help but hope that this time he means it. That this time it's going to be okay. It's… It's Jack, and just like she told Peter: there's never been anything she's wanted more.

She rushes forward, throwing her arms about his waist and squishing her face headlong into his collarbone.

Jack spreads his arms and pulls Trina against him with a quiet 'oof.' "I'm sorry, baby," he murmurs, holding her fiercely. His face presses against her hair and his eyes pinch tightly closed as he attempts to master his emotions. "I know I've promised before," he begins tentatively, his words mirroring her thoughts. "But this time it's different. I will come back. When I do, this'll all be over. I'll be clean, I swear."

He pulls back and leans down to press his forehead against her cheek. "I have to do this. Try and fix it, undo all this craziness… something." Long, strong fingers twine through her hair as Jack's body spreads to engulf her smaller one more fully in the embrace. "Can I stay tonight and hold you? Please?"

Trina breathes deeply, inhaling the smell of the man who holds her tight. Too tight. Not tight enough. A week felt like forever. She thought that it was going to be forever. And now he's here, invading and conquering her senses like a centurion.

Words are so painfully and woefully inadequate.

She should tell him no. To come back when he's clean. She should tell him a lot of things; he's earned them, twice over, for putting her through this living hell. She should tell him how much he means to her. But words fail her.

Instead, hands with their unfamiliar, artificial, studded claws slip back to the front of him until at last, they find their way to his lapels and catch hold. Demanding. Ferocious. Frightened. Desperate. When she lifts her dark head, her lips, too, are all these things as they move to seize his.

Jack responds in kind and then some. His hands slide down Trina's back to find purchase behind her thighs. With a single heave, he picks up her slight form and settles her with one leg on either side of his hips. All this is done without him separating his lips from hers. Far from it, in fact. He only kisses Trina deeper as he backs awkwardly into the entertainment center, then swivels around and sets her bottom-first on the dresser.

Her respite is brief. As soon as he's set her down, Jack leans forward to run his fingers through Trina's hair as he steals another kiss. This one lingers even longer, until he's gasping for air when he finally comes up.

Scared to harm, desperate to touch, Trina is beyond careful to keep her acrylic nails far from her lover's body. The base of her palms, however, dig in as she helps support her own weight. Her legs wrap tightly around Jack, and her back arches as it finds pressboard furniture behind it. It's when she's set down on that dresser, however, that she pauses long enough to breathe. And then she's pushing off of it again, shoving Jack roughly against the bed.

She's furious at him, and the kiss awakens the anger that burns deep within her. But at the same time, her whole body feels like it's on fire, aching for him.

She stares at him for but a moment, panting. It truly is but a moment, and then she frantically succumbs to the deeper passion, crawling astride the dressed man and her palms again seeking to race along his torso. "I need you," she whispers huskily as soon as her lips can find her way to his ear.

Clothing is an awkward, cumbersome burden that Jack is doing his best to remove from them both. His hands seem to be everywhere at once, sliding and tugging gently where he can, and moving more insistently where it's necessary. It's a strange mix of tender and passionate that's interspersed with tiny, wordless murmurs of happiness and approval. When there's no longer anything between them, his touch grows gentle again. He explores every curve and contour of her body as if they'd been apart for a year instead of a week.

"I'm yours," he whispers. "Always."

As overdone and sparkling underthings are peeled away from her like the traitorous liars they are and discarded — unneeded and unwanted — upon the floor, Trina catches a deep breath and the new weight of the glistening ring upon her clavicle is blissfully noted as the lovers lie upon the rumpled comforter, well shy of the pillows at the head of the bed.

The world is right here. The world is perfect here. Can the world stop here, when everything is still right and perfect?

"Don't you ever forget it, Jack Derex. I'm the one that loves you. More than anything." Then, barely audible among even its whispered kin, she flips his earlier sentiment. She's making the request, not just granting permission. "Stay with me tonight, Jack. Please?"

The words are almost enough to bring tears to Jack's eyes. This woman… This amazing, devoted, beautiful woman… She's taken care of him, believed in him, done everything he ever could have asked and so much more.

"And I love you, Katrina Derex." The surname is emphasized excitedly. His girl. His. "I'm not goin' anywhere tonight."

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