Good Love

It was approaching three in the morning, and they were still on the road towards Arizona. Annie had had fun on this mini tour, but by now she was ready to get home and sleep in her own bed.

Everyone -minus Kennedy, who was driving- was seated on the couch in the front room, watching the news, though none of them were really paying attention. They were all about passed out by now, their stomachs full with the quick dinner they’d just had, but for some reason the boys refused to go to bed.

It had been a relatively slow afternoon for Annie, her night consisting of playing card games with Kenny, Garrett, and Austin (who’d all lost fifteen dollars to Annie in a game of poker because she’d miraculously hustled them) and playing a few games of Mario Kart with Max and John.

Currently on the tv was a rerun of last night’s news, considering it was already three and tonight’s news had already played, but Annie’s attention perked up when she heard a certain word come from the speakers.

She sat and watched, unable to look away, as the names of victimized people flashed across the screen. She bit her nail as the stories continued. Kidnappings, murders, assaults. And the most common one: sexual harassment. Rape.

Suddenly she felt sick as she realized how fully fucked up their world was. It wasn’t only happening to her, but to thousands of other people all over. Probably even millions.

Annie left her spot on the couch as quietly as she could and ran to the bathroom, shutting the door quickly. She dropped to her knees forcefully, probably giving herself bruises, and retched her dinner into the toilet.

How could anyone think it was okay to violate another person like that? To force them into something sick and wrong?

She didn’t understand. She’d never understand, and she didn’t think she’d ever learn to accept what happened to her. She knew she needed to, in order to move on, but it seemed so hard. Why was she the one who had to suffer, when that man in Chicago was the one who committed the crime?

She flushed the toilet and leaned back against the bathroom wall, hugging her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. She hated feeling so weak, but she couldn’t help it; tears were running down her cheeks before she knew it.

She felt so defeated, so run down. Annie had been trying so hard the past couple of months to keep it together and be strong. But it wasn’t working. It was taking too long for her to feel better, and she didn’t know what to do.

Ten minutes later, she was still crying when someone knocked on the door. Before she had time to open her mouth and tell them to go away, they had already pushed open the door and shut it behind them. 

“What’s up, pretty lady?” Austin asked, using his new nickname for her. It seemed like everyone had their own name for her these days; everything except her actual name. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her, waiting for her to say something.

When she didn’t, she was glad that Austin didn’t push her to talk. Though it seemed like she didn’t need to. He had a look on his face, like he already knew.

“That’s what happened to you, isn’t it?” he asked, nodding his head towards the living room, where she could faintly hear the boys talking. “What we just saw on the news?”

She sighed. There was no avoiding it now. She had to talk. And strangely, she was okay with telling Austin. He had become such a good friend to her, the only person ahead of him was Macy. “Yeah, that’s what happened. In Chicago.”

He was quiet for a second. “Shit. Holy shit.”

“But don’t you dare give me a pity party, Gibbs. I don’t want to hear it-”

Her words were cut off as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder, hugging her to him. “I’m just so glad that you’re safe.” He let out a big, long sigh. “I guess it all makes sense now, why you hate being touched. I would too. Wait, uh, is this bothering you?”

“No,” she said, leaning her head on her best friend’s shoulder as her sobs finally subsided. “I like your hugs, Gibbs. Thank you.”

He nodded. “I swear to god, the next time I’m in Chicago I’m going to murder every male I see.”

“You know that wouldn’t do anyone any good. We can only hope he’s rotting in hell by now.”

“How are you so calm?” Austin asked, shaking his head.

“I’m not. I’m just good at hiding it.”

He believed it; she was so good at pretending, she should have been an actress. “Who all knows?”

“Just you, Jared, and Tessa,” she whispered, realizing that she hadn’t even told her parents.

“I knew Jared knew something the rest of us didn’t.”

“But you all suspect I have some secrets, don’t you?” she asked. When he nodded, she started into the story of how it happened and how she got to Arizona, along with her visits to the doctors and therapist. Annie could tell it was a little overwhelming for him to take in, but he handled it fairly well. He only got absurdly angry a couple of times, which was better than Jared when he learned the news.

“Yeah, we sure do. Are you gonna tell the guys?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Not right now, though.”

“Do whatever you’ve gotta do, Ann. You ready to go back out?”

She nodded, and they stood and walked back to the front of the bus. At least for the moment, she felt ready to take on the world. As long as she wasn’t alone, she was ready.

That night ended with everyone going to bed shortly after she talked with Austin. Half the boys had fallen asleep during the duration of their conversation, even. The rest were told to get the hell in bed, you’re still on tour so get some sleep you fuckers courtesy of Tim, and Annie returned to her nest of blankets in the back lounge after texting with Tessa for a while.

Telling Austin about what happened had made her feel better, surprisingly. It was nice to know she was supported and cared about. She fell asleep knowing that on this bus, with these people, was where she was supposed to be. Even if she was sad and angry and messed up, she was in the right place.

***

The next morning, Annie woke up to a parked bus again. She groaned, feeling her joints pop as she stretched. She hadn’t slept well that night, not at all. Not only did she get to bed ridiculously late, but then she was plagued with nightmares.

She thought the nightmares had gone away, but reliving the incident while telling Austin must have stirred them in her mind again. She remembered waking up several times, covered in sweat.

Annie got off the couch and left the back lounge, heading for the kitchen. She found John, sitting in his pajamas, plucking lightly on his guitar strings from the couch (the front room and kitchen were basically the same room).

“Mornin’,” he said, nodding at her and continuing on his guitar. “There’s some coffee still in the pot.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, grabbing a mug and pouring herself a cup, not bothering to add sugar or cream. She sipped it, and it tasted strong and bitter. Just how she liked it. “Don’t you normally play outside in the mornings?”

“Normally, yeah, but that rain is pretty bad for my guitar, ya know,” he said, chuckling. Sure enough, when Annie looked out the window, it was raining fairly hard.

“Oh. Right,” she said, feeling foolish as she took a seat on the couch, as far away from him as she could, and turned on the tv.

“I heard you screaming last night,” John added absentmindedly. He didn’t look at her when he said it, he just kept playing and occasionally marking something in his notebook.

Annie frowned; she’d been screaming? “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nah. I’m a bit of an insomniac, and when I got up a couple of hours ago to go to the bathroom, I heard you. Sounded like a pretty bad nightmare.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, it wasn’t the greatest. I’m used to it though.”

“Yeah? Do you normally sleep on the couch, too?”

She sighed. “Not at home, no. Just while we’ve been on the bus.”

“Claustrophobic?”

“Yeah,” she said, the two sharing a chuckle at her expense. “How’d you know?”

“I used to be like that when we first started using the bus, too. Those bunks are pretty tight, but you get used to it.”

“Mmm.” She sipped on her coffee, watching whatever cartoon was on the tv.

“So what was you’re nightmare about?” he asked after a few minutes, taking a drink of his own coffee.

She groaned internally. Here he was again, picking her brain. Was he ever going to stop? “Just, um, about drowning or something. I can’t really remember.”

“I see,” John said, raising his eyebrows at her before he started flipping through his notebook. He could obviously tell she was lying, but luckily didn’t call her out on it. Instead, he started humming along to his guitar, strumming quietly.

She had so many questions: he was an insomniac, too? Why did he get up so early to play his guitar? How early did he actually get up?

But she was distracted by the familiar hum of his voice. “I love this song,” she said softly. “Petty is a legend.”

John smiled at her and started singing louder, and the lyrics became more distinguishable. ”I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings,” he sang.

”And coming down is the hardest thing,” she finished, the two of them sharing a grin.

God, what was he doing to her?