Sunshine Day Three

[cornerofmadness]

Hecate is one of my favorite goddesses. I wanted to do more for her than this and I may yet.



Early this morning I dreamt that evil_little_dog and I were in a retirement home for elderly magic users. Both of us has rooms that made use of liminal spaces and were TARDIS like on the inside. We're also both hoarders with tons and tons of junk. Well I find ELD dead (sorry) and I call her sister to let her know and immediately begin helping myself to everything in her room that I want whether or not I'm in the will. FInders keepers and what they don't know won't hurt them I guess. I loot all these magical places and steal her stuff (sorry again). I am bad. Ha.

I've also written a story that reflects Hecate's position as goddess of the crossroads. You can find this Prodigal Son story on AO3 here. or just read it here. Mind the tags (emotional hurt/comfort, mental health issues, light angst, alcohol and drug issues, sobriety)



Title: Soberish
author: cornerofmadness
Characters/Pairings: Gil, Jessica
Disclaimer: Not mine, Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver owns it
Summary: Jessica wants to find her sobriety and she hopes she’s on the right path.
Rating: teen
Notes: Written for brumeier for the prompt Prodigal Son, any, Soberish (Liz Phair), for the sunshine challenge prompt of Hecate, the goddess of the crossroads, and for the hurt/comfort bingo prompt counseling

Jessica didn’t own a lot of high collared items of clothing. She was proud of her form even after its fifty odd years of life and liked to showcase it. Vanity was a failing but she allowed herself that much. She had settled for a collar of gold chains to help hide her injuries since it was far too warm for turtlenecks. The bruises on her neck had begun to fade and she had the joy of knowing Vivian Capshaw would spend the rest of her days incarcerated, if there was any justice.

Her own dealings with justice were far more nebulous. Jessica had broken the law when she hadn’t reported Capshaw as having Martin captive but helping to capture her negated that. She would die before ever admitting what her children had done to Endicott, justice be damned. Right now, she had done an end run around justice for her son. It looked unlikely that Malcolm would face imprisonment for not turning in his father the moment he got free, not in the light of helping to stop another serial killer and his own iffy mental state. Martin had recovered and while not admitting Malcolm had stabbed him in self-defense, the fingerprints on the knife told the story for him, the bastard. Would he never be done hurting this family?

Regardless, she had sent Malcolm to Samoa for vacation as they wouldn’t extradite if it came to it. He had gone mostly because he was broken and it killed her to send him off in that state. She had wanted to pay Dani’s way to go with him but the impropriety was a sticking point and he didn’t want to damage her career because his could be over. She had wanted to send him with a nurse to keep an eye on his mental state but he had adamantly refused, even when their lawyers said it might make his case look better should prosecution happen. Jessica didn’t want to think about that. Malcolm had promised to go if she made good on a promise of her own.

She wanted a soberish life a life with more clarity. Jessica was at a crossroads. She could continue on her life-long trajectory or she could take the path less traveled. Jessica didn’t see herself as an addict. Her medications were prescribed. Like her son, she had deep mental issues and as much as she’d love to blame them all on Martin, Jessica couldn’t. She had been the party girl in the eighties. Her slow slide into oblivion had begun with all the pressures her mother had put on her. She had to uphold and perpetuate the Milton lineage. All she had wanted was to choose her own path. She had never been allowed that.

“And I did that to my children,” she whispered.

“Hmm?” Gil looked back at her and put his buffing rag away. His new vintage car shined like an aquamarine gemstone. She had worn aquamarine earrings and rings to go with his paint job. Jessica still couldn’t believe she was at a car cruise. At least he found a shady spot to park in since the sun was positively baking.

She shook her head back. “I was thinking about why I started drinking and taking quaaludes in school. My parents pressured me to follow the path they had laid out for me. I eventually caved and did it. Martin was my rebellion.” She laughed bitterly. “They never let me forget that. But I turned around and did that to my children, Malcolm more so than Ainsley. I suppose being a journalist wasn’t so bad. It was his path I objected to.”

Gil sat in the lawn chair next to hers and took her hand. “But you didn’t do it for the same reason, did you?” He smiled gently, knowing the answer.

Jessica still couldn’t meet his eyes. She didn’t care if Malcolm ever wanted to manage the Milton fortune. That pressure had forged her into the mess she was now even though her mother couldn’t see it. She saw her daughter as a spoiled trust fund party girl. Even Sterling had known her party ways. How had he greeted her after he thought she had stabbed Martin and he was going to get to represent her? ‘Still drunk and beautiful?’ “No but does it matter? I wanted to protect Malcolm from the ugliness of his father’s life, of all the horrible people he tracks down. I know I should be happy there are people like him and you willing to face the ugly so the rest of us are safe.”

“He’s happiest at work.”

She struggled to swallow down the lump in her throat. “Yes, I know. I wish I could take back all the times I tried to stop him.”

“Malcolm knows you were frightened for him, Jess. He might be irritated sometimes when you try to push him onto a different path but he knows why.”

“I know how it made me feel when Mother did it to me. Maybe Malcolm should resent me.” Jessica shuddered.

“Jess…”

She held up a hand. “Sorry, I know, that’s not right of me.” It wasn’t right for so many reasons. She had no prayer of getting sober if she kept dredging up her ugly past. It would only make her think of her failures as a daughter, as a mother, as a woman who could pick a decent man. Besides, she had finally found the latter and he rubbed her hand slowly, comforting her.

Spotting a couple eyeing Gil’s car, she nodded to him. “Go talk to them.” She knew he wanted to. That’s the reason anyone came to a car cruise to talk cars and admire them.

Gil popped up and talked to the man peering into the car’s window. His partner glanced at Jess with a put-upon expression on his face. She smiled back with a nod. She knew how he felt. Part of her self-designed plan to taper off the alcohol and popping extras of her prescribed meds was to not be at home all the time. If she had outside interest, then maybe she would be distracted enough to not need a cocktail-valium chaser to make it through the day. So far it had been working. She would keep her promise to her son, to herself. She had even hired on someone for private counseling. She and Miranda, her sober companion, had worked out a plan for her. Gil had been roped into the counseling sessions because he was such a comfort, so soft and gentle with her when she needed him to be, so fiery and passionate when she needed that. Even though she knew his career might get some tarnish from being involved with her, Gil stood by her. That’s the man he was and if she let herself admit it, she loved him.

She wanted to do things with him that made him happy. Of course, she was bored here and that was never good but Jessica had brought no alcohol with her and left her little box of pills at home. She could talk to people to help keep her distracted. She was good at that. Maybe that would work. If it didn’t, if problem was worse than she thought and she needed to check herself in somewhere to get more specialized help than her own therapist could give, then Jessica would do it. She knew she had her children’s support and Gil’s. She had succeeded in most everything she had set her mind to. She could do this.

The other man edged closer to her and said, “Another car widow I see.” He chuckled.

“I’m new to being widow. This is my first cruise,” she replied with a grin. “Probably not my last.”

“Oh, it’s never your last.” He rolled his eyes. “But if it makes them happy.”

“Exactly.”

He corralled his partner and dragged him off to the next car. Gil sat back down with her.

“If you’re bored, Jess, you don’t have to come. It won’t hurt my feelings,” Gil said.

But it might, she thought. Jackie had gone with him. He’d even taken Malcolm once or twice but a bored Malcolm was a dangerous Malcolm. “I’m happy to come. I’m sure I’ll be dragging you to things that aren’t your cup of tea. Next time I’ll remember to put my eReader in my purse though, that way you can talk as long as you like and not worry about me.”

He interlocked his fingers with hers again. “How are you really doing, Jess?”

He didn’t mean about being here and she knew it. “I’m good right now. I miss cocktail time but it’s not as bad as I thought. You’re helping. Ainsley too and Malcolm…he at least calls every day like I asked him too so that’s one less worry. I think he’s bored and ready to come home. I told him give it another few weeks at least.”

Gil grunted, making a face. “He’ll be all right.”

She sincerely hoped so. Even if he could get his job back, he would not ever rest easy with what happened in those woods, Damn Martin to hell. No, she wouldn’t give him any more power, wouldn’t let him push her back to her crutches. If she thought too much about Martin, she’d want that drink, pop that pill. “That said, it’s still hard, changing habits of a life time.”

Gil leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It is and it takes time. I’m here for you, Jess, whatever you need.”

She blinked her eyes, hoping not to cry. “I know that too. You’re making this possible. If I stumble…”

“I’ll pick you up,” he promised.

Jessica believed him. This road would be hard but she wasn’t traveling it alone. That would make all the difference.

Comments

[enemytosleep]

Okay but that dream though. xD

[cornerofmadness]

I know! Moral of the story I will rob your corpse before it's even cold apparently

[enemytosleep]

I would expect nothing less from any of my friends

[cornerofmadness]

snort