Jessie knew she should move away from Kay's door. There was nothing she could do there, it was out of her hands. And yet, she couldn't. Because she wanted to make sure everything was fine, that it all worked out.

Kyle had only been inside that room for 30 seconds, but it felt like 30 years.

Just go. It's none of your business. This wasn't her relationship. It was up to them. It was--

She froze mid-step as the door to Kay's room opened and Kyle came out. By the fleeting look he gave her, she could tell everything had somehow gone to shit. Without a word, he headed down the hall, towards his room. 

Jessie lingered, unsure what she should do. Two doors down, Kyle dropped on the floor and leaned his back against the wall.

Shit. She rushed over, but once she was there, she had no idea what to do. So she just sat next to him. His hands shook, and there was a weird, very uncharacteristic tremble in his chin as he seemed to be hovering between rage and misery.

"What happened?" she whispered.

"It's over," he said, his voice thick.

Before Jessie could even compute his words, tears escaped down his cheeks. Her heart clenched uncomfortably and his pain seemed to reverberate inside her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him against her, needing the contact as much as him. He leaned his forehead on her shoulder, his body shaking with repressed sobs. He was crying. 

In the years she'd known him, he'd gone through hell. He'd thought Sam and Tom were dead, that Kay was dead, that they were all going to die, and yet he'd never shed so much as a tear. But now he was breaking down in her arms and all Jessie could think about was throttling Kay. She'd said she wanted to apologize, fix things, not crush him.

Jessie had no idea what to do or say beyond holding him, letting him unload. His body still shook and her shoulder was wet with tears. A part of her wanted to speak, rage, tell him that Kay lied to her, claimed to want to apologize. Maybe she had and he misunderstood. But she couldn't give him hope when maybe there was none. What would be the point?

Tears filled her eyes as well, with pain for him, for Kay, for a relationship that looked so perfect from the outside. It took what felt like forever, but Kyle finally pulled away from her and leaned his head against the wall again, his forearms on top of his knees. His eyes were dry.

Jessie mirrored his pose, focusing on the ornate chandelier above them. "I'm really sorry."

"You were right, you know," he said, his voice even, no traces of lingering tears in it. "I just needed her to be the way she used to. Because I need her to take care of me, too, ya know? Give me the sense of safety, give me a home. I don't need her to be an alpha. I'm alpha enough for both of us."

"But you were right, Kyle," she whispered. "She owes you more than what she was giving."

"Yeah, true..." His voice held no trace of emotion. "I thought I would be free. That after all the frustration I've been feeling, finally ending it would be a relief. It's not. I'd rather go back into that hell than this one. "

Jessie turned and took his face in her hands. "I know it sucks right now, but if this is what she really wants, dragging it one would've just made it more painful."

There was a haze in his eyes that began to hint at the agony inside him. "I know ." He let out a long sigh. "I should've been honest with her. Tell her what bothered me, not wait for her to own up to it. She never has, not really. If there's one thing Kay hates, it's to admit that she's wrong."

"Don't we all?"

"No. Not like her. Not that it matters anymore." Kyle pushed himself to his feet. "Too late for that. I need to get wasted."

"Good luck with that," Jessie mumbled.

He gave her a half-smile before heading towards the stairs. She stayed where she was and hugged her knees, doing her best to fight her impulses, keep herself from bursting into Kay's room and demand that she take it back.

But unfortunately, it really was none of her business. She was not about to make the same mistakes Kay did.

♠️

Jimmy had been right. Even with the intolerance, it was perfectly possible to drink. All you needed was enough pain to overcome the nausea. And Kyle had plenty of that. Every muscle in his body screamed in pain. But he was functioning, moving, sending the amber liquid down his throat.

It was ghastly and he couldn't imagine why anyone would drink it for pleasure. Maybe it was the bad sort, though the hotel bar looked fancy enough. Maybe he just couldn't appreciate alcohol. That was something he didn't regret.

All he wanted at the moment was to forget. Forget how exhausted and jittery Kay looked when he'd walked into her room. He couldn't even bring himself to step away from the door.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her eyes barely focusing on him.

He wasn't sure exactly what she was sorry for. Her tone sounded so final, like a last thought, or a goodbye.

"Okay..." was all he could say to that.

Then she looked away from him, towards the window where orange light flitted through from the lights in the hotel garden.

"You know," she said, her voice dreamy, "I always thought our love was something magical which drifted down from the heavens. Like glittering specs of gold dust. And now... " Her voice had cracked. "Now I feel like it's in the air again, floating between us, waiting to head back to heaven."

Her words drove a dagger into his heart and he finally understood what the weird apology was for.

"So..." He couldn't say it. He'd pushed her into it, made her decide. And now that she had, he failed to accept it.

He took another sip of his drink. The liquid burned down his throat, creeping into him, making him want to throw up. The only thing that kept the vomit in was his need to feel the pain of the alcohol, distract himself from his thoughts.

"I'm so sorry, Kyle." She had tears in her eyes as she looked at him again.

It was so obvious. And Jessie had been right. Only too late did he realize that if he wanted to save their relationship, an ultimatum was the worst idea. Kay never reacted well to being pushed. She needed explanations, to understand.

"Is this about Jessie?"

She nodded. "About that, too. About everything."

But he'd caught on too late. Hadn't realized how much he still loved her until he was faced with losing her.

"I'm sorry, too." It was all he could say before he turned around and left the room.

"So sorry. So stupid," he mumbled.

"You're drinking?"

Kyle jumped and turned to his left. The room swayed for a second before he could focus on Tom. His brother had dropped on the stool next to him, his eyebrows raised.

"Jimmy taught me that it's possible if you have the right mind set for it." His words were a little slurred, even if he didn't feel particularly drunk. The thought blurred out the agony and the guilt, and for a moment he felt like laughing.

At how crazy the world was, how stupid he was being. Nothing made sense and nothing lasted forever.

"Huh. That bad. Do I even want to know?"

Kyle shook his head. It was a mistake and hurt a weird amount. But the truth was, he couldn't even bring himself to think the words, let alone say them out loud.

"What are you up to?" he asked instead.

Tom threw a short glance over his shoulder. Kyle followed his gaze across the dance floor and to a corner of the ball room/ restaurant where, perched on armchairs, Skye and Angie were talking. Angie wore a long, flowing burgundy skirt and a green tank top, while Skye had the same ensemble, but in shades of light blue. It looked good with her hair. Kay would've looked lovely dressed like that.

He shook his head again. "Why are they in skirts?"

"Look around," Tom said with a dramatic wave of his hands. "Everyone is. The hotel has event nights and we were lucky to be part of dance night. And they're not a fan of shorts." He looked back towards the two girls.

"Are you worried that Skye is psychoanalyzing you to Angie?" Kyle asked.

"Of course not," Tom huffed, turning towards the bar. "She's free to tell anyone what she likes."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Kyle took another sip and finished his glass. His stomach churned and there was a sharp pain in his upper abdomen, but fuck it, he deserved it. "Can I have another?" He raised the glass and it swayed in his hand. It was strange being so uncoordinated.

"How many of these did you have?" Tom asked, sounding a little worried.

"This third," the barman said, putting another mostly-empty glass of whiskey before him. 

What was even the point of a drink being a quarter of a glass? Why wasn't it just served in smaller glasses?

"Oh. Not much then," Tom said.

It didn't feel like not much. Kyle's head was disgustingly foggy. But he needed it. It made what happened with Kay easier to ignore. He was very aware that he'd have to face it, but if he could just put it off for one more evening, the potential hangover was more than worth it. The taste, however, almost wasn't.

"How do people drink this stuff?" he mumbled.

Tom shrugged before throwing another look over his shoulder. "I don't know. I'm not really into whiskey myself. I'm a beer kind of guy. Though lately I was starting to appreciate wine." He glanced over his shoulder again.

"Give me your sunglasses," Kyle said.

That got Tom's attention. "Why?"

"Because I'm drinking and my eyes have become sensitive."

Tom didn't seem convinced, but he took the sunglasses off and passed them to his brother. Kyle put them on and even if it had been bullshit, he had to admit the dulled light helped his developing headache the tiniest bit.

Now he could also survey Tom without him being aware and what he suspected was confirmed. There was a definite longing on Tom's face whenever he looked at Angie.

"Why don't you two get back together?"

"Huh?" Tom didn't even bother to look at him.

"You obviously still love her. I'm betting she feels the same about you. You're capable of being around each other. You both messed up. Isn't there a way for you to get over it?"

"It's not that easy, Kyle. You have no idea how badly I fucked up." Tom sighed and turned away from the girls.

"So this is about you, not her?" This was news.

Tom just nodded, then groaned and set his head on the bar

"But you want to be with her."

"What I want doesn't matter."

"Yeah, it does if it's you who is deciding not to try and get back together."

Tom blinked, caught in the tangles of his own faulty logic.

"Stop over-analyzing and be honest with yourself for once."

"I can't. I slept with someone else."

It took Kyle a second to process the words, then a other second to take aim and let his fist drop on Tom's back.

His brother let out a yelp, but otherwise didn't try to run for his life. He was lucky that Kyle was incapable of really hurting him or chasing after him for that matter. Plus, the news only made him want to groan because of unnecessary complications. Why couldn't stuff just work out?

"Why?" he asked.

"I was drunk out of my mind and hallucinated it was her," Tom mumbled.

"You fucking idiot."

"Exactly! See why we can't be together anymore?"

"Does she know?"

Tom nodded. "Her reaction was similar to yours. Though it was less hitting and more screaming."

"And she's still talking to you?" Though that was obvious. "Don't you wonder if she might actually forgive you?"

"She shouldn't. What I did--"

"What you did hurt her, you moron. Whether she still wants to be with you is up to her, not you. So unless you have something against her, you don't get to decide this, dictate her feelings, you control freak!"

Tom just stared. Kyle groaned and took a swing of his drink. It was a little too much and vomit made its way up his throat. He managed to swallow it back down before he made a mess on the bar. He should take a longer break. Or maybe stop. He was dizzy enough as it was.

"Let me guess," he said, his voice even more slurred. This was getting fun. "You thought you were being mature, breaking the habit. No longer being a jealous, controlling asswipe."

"That's exactly what I thought." Tom looked at the bar, drumming his fingers on it. "Shit."

"Yeah, I can see how what you were doing could seem mature. But when you'll learn to let others decide for themselves, that's when change will happen."

"How can you do it?" Tom asked.

"Do what?"

"Trust. Let people make decisions you know will affect your life. Let them abandon you before you abandon them."

"Is this what it's all about? Abandoning Angie before she can abandon you?"

Tom took in a deep breath. "I'm going to tell you something I haven't shared before, not even with Sam. Maybe Jimmy told you... Before we were in the system, we were adopted. Three times to be more precise. I don't remember the first, I was too young, but the story is always the same. Get the kids for money and throw them out when they get too old. Or adopt them until we have one of our own, then try to tear brothers apart..." His voice cracked. "It's always the same story. Take. Use. Throw out. Story of my life."

An uncomfortable knot lodged itself into Kyle's chest which had nothing to do with drinking or Kay. He hadn't known. Jimmy hadn't mentioned anything of the sort. And yet, it explained so much.

"Jimmy never abandoned you. And neither will we. You have a family now, people who love you. Friends who love you. And Angie..."

"Angie can do better."

"Maybe she can. But maybe she doesn't want to. Maybe all she wants is you and you're hurting her while you think you're protecting her. There's no secret to trusting, Tom. You just go all in, head first, hoping the happiness will make up for the pain." Kyle faltered. He'd owned up to it, given himself fully to Kay, and it had led to crushing pain more than once. And yet, he regretted nothing.

"That's it? Hope?"

"Hope and taking the pain like a champ. If it's not everything, it's not worth it. The proof is in the pain. What's the point of getting into it otherwise?"

Tom turned to look at Angie again. This time, she was staring too, gave him a weak smile and focused on Skye again.

"Shit," he mumbled. "I really can't see myself with anyone but her."

"Then go get her! And if there'll be rejection, you'll learn to live without her then. Better than now."

"You're wise when you're drunk."

Kyle huffed. "I'm wise all the time."

"You're drunk?" Sam joined the party, appropriately shocked.

"Guilty as charged." Kyle raised his glass and took another tiny sip. Getting drunk apparently didn't fix the taste of the damn thing.

"Don't worry. He didn't drink much," Tom said. "He's just really, really, really lightweight."

Sam raised his eyebrows, but fortunately didn't ask what happened that got Kyle drinking in the first place. "I got us transport for tomorrow. I guessed a couple of cars would be the best way to go."

"That sounds wonderful," Tom said with his usual patronizing sarcasm.

"I'd tell you to relax for the night, but I can see you beat me to it." Sam looked towards Skye and Angie. "Go nuts. Go dancing."

"We're not going to judge if you take Skye dancing, Sam," Kyle said.

"Wow, you sound so drunk." Sam grinned. "Glad it's not one of us this time."

Kyle waved him away, and the sudden movement made everything blurry. "Go dance with your girlfriend."

"She's not my..." Sam fortunately trailed off, thus avoiding a hit. "We never really put a label on it."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You got a room together."

"Yes, but we're not exactly sure... I mean we're exclusive and everything, but..."

"But what?" Kyle asked. "You're obviously in love."

"That's the thing." Sam bit his lip. "I have this compulsion to love, and I'm not sure if it's the real thing or she's just a convenient target."

"Well, she psychoanalyzed the shit out of you,'" Tom said, sounding surprised.

"Does it feel like love?" Kyle asked.

"It is love. I'm just not sure why it's directed at her."

"Oh, my God, really Sam?" Kyle rolled his eyes and it actually hurt. "Who's it directed at if not her?"

Sam drummed his fingers on his chin. "When you put it that way..."

"What other way is there? You feel love towards her. That's the definition of being in love with her. And from the way she drinks you up, she's obviously head over heals for you."

"That sounds fairly simple," Tom said.

A smile spread on Sam's face and it made Kyle feel much better. Love was still possible. And seeing Sam so happy, even if stupidly confused, was great. Especially after everything he'd been through over the past few months.

"Head first, my brother," Tom said wisely. "Trust. Proof is in the pain."

"That's true," Sam said, then shrugged. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but since we're heading off to our potential demise tomorrow, I'm off to dance with my love."

"You should go dance with your love, too," Kyle said to Tom, watching Sam take Skye away from Angie.

They looked lovely together, so happy and in love. He missed that. All the anger, the frustration, the stubbornness. He and Kay were both idiots.

"I don't know about that..." Tom mumbled.

Kyle had had it with the stupidity. He also knew this song and hadn't danced to it in ages. So he was going to show Tom how it was done. He stood and wobbled over to Angie, ignoring the way everything swayed around him.

"Let's dance," he said, reaching out his hand.

Angie took it and let him pull her out of the armchair. "You okay?"

"I'm potentially drunk and wildly uncoordinated."

"Which still makes you a better dancer then most here," she pointed out.

It was sad because it was true. But the drink had a way of making him relaxed and airy so he just enjoyed the dance. Angie was quiet as well, which was a blessing because he was in no mood to discuss Kay. The dance required partner change, so it took a whole of one minute to switch from Angie to Skye.

"Hi there," he said with a grin.

Skye gave a small smile, looking intimidated for some reason. Then she squinted at him. "Are you okay?"

"Obviously not."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked as he spun her on the spot.

"Sorry, already have a therapist."

"Sarah's not here."

She made a good point, but Kyle still didn't feel like talking to Sam's girlfriend about his troubles. "What are your intentions with my brother?"

She laughed. "Shouldn't you be asking him what his intentions are regarding me?"

"I already know that."

"Do tell."

Kyle grinned. "Never. He's so transparent, anyway, even if a little confused. But you..."

"What about me?" She raised an eyebrow.

He squinted at her, but couldn't pick up on anything negative. Not that his senses were the sharpest, but somehow he believed he'd still know if something was off. As it was, she just seemed smitten with Sam.

"I think I like you," he said, his filter down the toilet.

"I know I like you. And you're an important influence is Sam's life."

"Thanks for the pressure."

"Don't worry. You're doing a great job." She came closer to him and whispered in his ear, "And I love Sam, so I intend to take good care of him." She pulled back and put her finger to her lips. "But I didn't tell him yet, so it's a secret." Then she twirled away as they switched partners again.

"Tell him!" he called out after her before focusing on his new partner. To his shock, it was Jessie. "What are you doing here?"

She shook her head. "Just needed a distraction. I'm pretty surprised to see you dancing. More shocked to see you tipsy."

"I think I'm more towards drunk, than tipsy. But I got on the dance floor to achieve that." He nodded towards Tom and Angie who had ended up together right as the current song ended and a much slower one started.

Jessie smirked. "Yeah, I guessed that much. That's why I pulled Tom off his butt too."

At least those type of plans still worked when everything else was going to hell. He'd had enough of dancing.

♠️♠️♠️

A bit of a weird place to cut it, but the rest of the chapter needs to start where it does.

Yay, I'm keeping to schedule. And things happened. Were you expecting this? What do you think will happen now?

Also, I enjoy writing drunk people way too much. Next stop, write Jerry drunk.😅

All thoughts are appreciated. Don't forget to vote and comment if you're enjoying the story.