Love (A Rainy Night)

She knew where he lived – not that it was a closely guarded secret – and she'd made it there on autopilot with her mind a million miles away. She felt a little pathetic to be running to him at this time of night, when sane people would be sleeping. When the GPS announced that her destination was up ahead, she pulled to the curb and took a deep breath. Flipping the visor down, she checked her face in the mirror and sighed. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and her hair looked awful. At least it was raining outside so she could pretend it had ruined her hair on the way up to his doorstep. The longer she hesitated, the more likely she was to turn around and drive all the way back into the city, to that cramped little apartment that cost far too much and provided little in the way of comfort. A few moments later, she was standing on his porch, glancing back over her shoulder at her cute little Prius that looked like it belonged here in the suburbs. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she let out a shaky breath, wondering why she was so nervous now. Was it because she hadn't publicly asked about his well-being? She could hardly be faulted for her failure to watch the show live, but she felt an enormous weight of guilt for being so horribly self-absorbed that she'd avoided it in favour of wallowing in her own misery. Her hand froze midway towards the doorbell as a light came on in the entryway, shining through the window that was too high for her to see into.

In a moment, the door creaked open slightly, and Chuck leaned in the doorway, looking at her with a small smile. He glanced over her shoulder. "It's a very distinct car."

Chuck certainly looked a bit worse for wear himself; there was a small bandage above his right eye, and a nasty bruise on his jaw. She spotted his hand, holding the door open, and could see the open wounds on his knuckles, the signs of a man who had fought back before it became too much. As if detecting her stare, he quickly shoved his hands in his pockets in an effort to hide his injuries. Still, he stepped aside, holding the door and gesturing her inside.

She might have hesitated a bit longer on the threshold for fear of her own emotional state if the wind hadn't chosen that moment to pick up slightly, throwing rain at them and serving as an effective shove in the right direction. Biting her lip, she looked up at him once the door had closed behind her and privacy had been ensured. "I'm sorry," she said softly, immediately, "I should have been there."

He shook his head. "You absolutely should not have been there." His tone wasn't hostile, but he paused a moment, thinking on his own words. "There's nothing either of us could have done. Had you been there, they would have attacked you too, and we'd BOTH be laid out right now." Chuck allowed a small smile to appear. "I'm not made of glass, Ness. I can take the beating." He fell silent again, taking a moment to look her over. The smile gave way to a look of concern. "Is everything okay otherwise?"

She looked away for a moment, lifting her hands to push her windblown hair behind her ears. Instead of answering directly, she took a few steps away from the door, forcing a smile that didn't come close to reaching her eyes. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable sitting down?" Before he could answer, she shook her head, "no, I suppose... that's probably just as awful. Why don't you give me the grand tour?"

Chuck looked up at the high ceiling of the foyer, as though finally looking at his home for the first time. "It's not as impressive as it looks from outside, really… three bedrooms upstairs. I turned one of those into a den of sorts a few years back. The other one was-..." He trailed off. His mouth closed, and he took a breath. "I don't use it."

Chuck shook the thought from his head. He rested his hand gently on Nessa's back, guiding her into the house, down a short hallway and into the living room. To the left, a cozy kitchen was separated from the room by a breakfast bar. In the rear of the house, even through the rain and the darkness, they could see the backyard through large panes of glass that seem to take up the entire wall. His yard stretched out, far enough that they couldn't see the end of it in the night, though the stone edge of a pool could be seen near the right side, and in the distance, the silhouette of the greenhouse protected a garden from the elements. Chuck stared out the window for a moment, watching drops of rain race down the glass. Without thinking, his arm moved to Nessa's shoulder, holding her a little closer. "It's nothing special... but it's home."

"It's really nice," the understatement was there in the reverence of her tone and she leaned against him slightly as her arm circled his waist, letting out a wistful sigh. "I always wanted a swimming pool. That was on my list of must-haves, back when..." she laughed ruefully, "well, it doesn't matter now. Things change. Plans change."

"I don't know why I wanted one so bad." He chuckled, almost sheepishly. "I never really learned to swim. I guess I figured I'd teach myself if I had a pool." Chuck fell silent again. He wasn't often a man who couldn't think of what to say, but Nessa always seemed to have that effect on him. Those long stretches of silence weren't as awkward as they used to be. There was peace there. His fear of saying something foolish or humiliating himself… that still lingered in his mind. But he felt relaxed when she was around. He felt calm, and his thoughts, ordinarily so loud and frenzied in his head, seemed to settle. "Maybe someday, I'll go back and do all those things I should have done." He paused, and added, "...all the things I want to do."

"I can swim," Nessa replied, resting her head against his shoulder, "just don't expect me to get up on the diving board. I can't. I suppose that's weird given that I used to do gymnastics." She shivered slightly, looking out at the faint, dark shape of the pool in the yard. "My aunt had a pool, this big above ground thing and we spent time there in the summers so my parents thought it was good for me to take swimming lessons at the YMCA. I was five. And the deep end was very big and very scary and when I stood at the end of that board, I froze. I couldn't do it and I started to cry. One of the assistants came up on the board behind me, and I thought maybe she was going to help so I turned to look at her and she pushed me off the end. My foot hit the board on the way down. I swallowed water. It wasn't..." she hesitated for a moment, sighing as she shook her head. "Let's just say, I never did learn how to dive. That's probably my biggest fear – drowning, I mean. I'm fine once I'm in the water, if it's clear enough to see the bottom." Her cheeks were slightly pink as she tilted her head to look at him. "Maybe that's why I wanted a pool so badly. Work on conquering that demon in private?"

"It's certainly easier than embarrassing yourself in public." He gave her a knowing look. It was precisely why he'd had the pool installed so long ago. A low sigh escaped him. "I suppose we all have those fears we'd like to get over." Again, his thoughts seemed elsewhere. He stared at the pool for a moment longer before looking at Nessa, realizing he'd become lost in his own thoughts. "Sorry. Don't mind me." He wasn't about to lie to her. She was too smart. Besides that... he trusted her.

Her blue eyes searched his, trying to find the words to say what was on her mind, hoping it would pull him from whatever storm was waging inside that head of his. Her own thoughts were too scrambled, emotions too raw to really pick one topic and stick to it. Instead she lifted her hand and rested it gently on his cheek. "Chuck.... whatever it is, I'm here. If you want to..." she hesitated for a fraction of a second before correcting herself, "if you need to talk about it."

"There isn't much to say." He frowned, thinking over his next words. "The things Grace said… back at the show, I mean. I suppose it hit me harder than I want to admit." He feels his face burn where her hand touched his skin. Chuck closed his eyes a moment, trying to clear the thoughts from his head. Grace's words, her snide remark about Nessa, about his son... they'd opened up wounds, brought old thoughts rushing to the front of his mind. His doubts, his fears, his deepest insecurities, all swirled in his brain, pounding against his skull. They taunted him. He couldn't focus. Slowly, his eyes opened, and he stared at her, trying to read her expression. He couldn't.

"She got what she wanted, then." The hatred was plain as day in Nessa's voice, "she hurt us both." She let her hand drop from his face, resting it on his chest instead even as she broke eye contact. "It's hard… trying to stay above all this garbage. You go on with your life and you try to pretend you're getting better, you measure every step and call it progress and then out of the blue something comes along and it blindsides you." She bit her lip, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone, "I didn't know… when I posted that thing on Twitter… I had no idea what Grace had said." Her gaze found his again and her eyes were sad, "he said I've always been broken and I hate that he's right. Still."

Chuck tilted his head slightly, examining her. "Who said that?" His hand moved up to her face, gently brushing her chin. Her saddened look pained him. His eyes remained fixed on hers, trying to provide any sort of assurance. "Talk to me, Ness."

"Shawn." She said his name softly, almost embarrassed, "Shawn Fox. I don't know if you know who he is. I suppose it doesn't really matter now," Nessa bit her lip, hesitating for a moment because she didn't want to tell him the truth, to tell him why she'd labelled herself as stupid. The way he looked at her, though, it cut through that resistance. "I just found out... he's gotten married and...."

"And it hurt when you found out on your own." Chuck offered a slow, understanding nod. He hugged her, doing the only thing that made sense in that moment. "I'm sorry."

She rested her head against his chest, feeling better simply because of that most basic contact. Her arms wrapped around him and for the first time, she realized how natural, how good it felt. "Now you know why I said it was dumb." Her voice came out small, muffled slightly against his shirt. For a moment, she stood there, senses overloaded with the smell of his clean, warm skin and the sound of the rain falling outside. "God, I could just stay like this forever..." she whispered, regretting it almost the second the words passed her lips.

His arms tightened around her, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. Chuck's hand stroked the end of her hair. "That doesn't sound so bad." He smiled to himself, enjoying the brief moment of peace. "You're not broken, you know..."

"And you're not a bad father."

Chuck took a shuddering breath. He knew she meant well, but the thought still dug into him, and stung for just a moment. He could feel her hands on his back, and the soft motion calmed his nerves quickly. "I...thanks." His voice cracked, just slightly, and he kept quiet, unsure what more to say. Well... no. That wasn't true at all. His mind buzzed with things to say... things he'd wanted to say for a long time. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

As if she could sense that turmoil, Nessa squeezed him gently but was kind enough not to look up. "I had one." Her words came out softer than before, "not that it makes me any authority by any stretch, but you didn't disappear and move on and find a new family to flaunt as your own on social media." Her words were bitter, just a hint of animosity in her tone as she chuckled softly. "You're...." now she did pull back slightly, looking up at him, "you are a good man, Chuck. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Chuck was silent again as he let Nessa's words sink in. Slowly, he spoke, softly, with careful thought behind each word. "I've done a lot of damage to a lot of people." He paused. "I suppose my intentions were good. At the time, at least... they made sense. It felt right." Another pause. He struggled to organize his thoughts. "I've spent the last ten years building this.... I don't know what to call it. A legacy? All these business endeavors, all these 'master plans,' these tricks, the plots, the business dealings." He stopped, lingering on his next thought. "I'm a man who reached the top of the mountain. I achieved what I set out to do, and I realized that I was the only one there." He glanced down at her. She had beautiful eyes. He'd seen them so many times before, but they seemed different now. He could see something there that he hadn't seen before... or perhaps he'd been willfully blind to it. What was that?

"I lost.... Friends, I lost colleagues. My sister doesn't talk to me anymore. You heard Jason at the last show, he wants nothing to do with me. I lost...I lost my only son." He felt a stabbing pain in his chest. He shook the thought from his head, trying to get back on track. "I absorbed myself in my work. I obsessed over it for years, just looking for anything to... to keep my mind busy. It worked. I made it to the peak. I just...." He paused again. "I sometimes wonder what it cost." His thoughts, his feelings, they flowed freely now. His eyes were fixed on hers and he saw that spark in her eyes once again... Was it understanding?

Nessa nodded. "I can't begin to understand how you must feel..." there was a slight pause, that tilt of her head as she studied him, "about your son. I can see it, hear it in your voice. I really wish I could take that pain away." A sad smile crossed her lips. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, about that box in the back of her closet that contained the perfect shoes and a necklace that had belonged to her mother – the things she'd planned to wear on that wedding day she'd resigned herself to never having. Instead she averted her eyes and lifted her hand to twist a lock of her hair around her finger. "I guess what I'm saying is I know what it feels like to have a laundry list of accomplishments and an empty bed."

A weak smile flashed across his face. "Is there something wrong with us?" He sighed. He knew that look she gave him now; it was the look that he so often wore himself. It was that look of curiosity, of finding a thing that warranted further study. He looked away for a moment, calming his frantic mind. "Ness, you ah... you said something to me. Back when you were laid up in the hospital. I don't know if you remember, you were a bit…" He hesitated, then shook his head. "Nevermind. It just... I wasn't sure how to react, and I found any excuse to get away. I shouldn't have done that." He fell silent again, avoiding her eyes. The words were there. Why was this so difficult for him to admit?

Her gaze snapped back to his, a flush colouring her cheeks. She swallowed hard on a gasp, almost choking on it as her eyes went wide. She thought he'd fled because she'd taken it too far, too quickly, blurting sentimental gibberish like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Her heart dropped to her feet as she continued to stare at him, trying to understand the subtext in his words. When he didn't elaborate, when his eyes darted away, she felt that dismay all over again. "I meant it," she murmured, "and it's okay if you don't... I'm happy with things-"

"I do." He cut her off, but his gaze was still fixed on some unidentified point in the distance. He looked down at the small space between her body and his, focusing on her hand, the strand of hair around her finger. "I'm not good at these things. Emotions, affections, they're not.... Not my strong suit." He cleared his throat. "But we've known each other for years. We decided to try and reconnect again, maybe see if the interest was still there after all that time…" He trailed off. He was rambling again. He stopped, closing his mouth to keep himself from embarking on another lengthy monologue, another lengthy attempt to stall and postpone what he really wanted to say. "I do love you, Ness. I have for a long time."

"Well." She managed that single word, mouth closing on the heels of it, teeth digging into her lip. Before she could stumble through some ridiculous confession, before she could absolutely trash the moment by trying to squeeze something else from it, she let go of her inhibitions. "Oh hell," she whispered, stretching up on her toes, both hands coming to rest against his chest as she kissed him full on the lips, putting every ounce of feeling into that brief contact. Chuck seemed startled at first, not expecting that reaction. He offered no resistance, only a small smile and a look of adoration as she broke her kiss. He said nothing but for the first time, he felt like he didn't need to. She already knew.