Reunion

Who: Jesse and Ronnie
Where: Ronnie's room
When: late at night

It was late. Way late, actually. After midnight late. But Jesse was trudging along, the cold doing a whole lot to wake him up properly, and while he still had the lingering effects of the massive amount of alcohol he'd killed earlier, he was mostly sober. And he was looking for Ronnie. He'd gone on the computer, found out where she was, and was trying to follow the directions he'd written down for himself. He'd also found out that after he'd left after sending her his apologies, she'd written back to him.

Twice.

So, really, if he'd just waited five fucking minutes, he wouldn't be where he was right now. He'd be...better. Or something. Already having talked to her at the very least. But ...there was the house. The farm house. Whatever. He supposed he should have tried to warn her. See that she even wanted to see him, or warn her that he was on his way at a ridiculous time, but that had seemed like time that he could be on his way to see her, so he hadn't. When he got up to the place, he was quiet about it. He tried the door, and found it unlocked, so he slipped inside, feeling vaguely like a burglar. Now...which room was she in.

The soft glow of light spilling from under a closed doorway was as much of a hint as Jesse was likely to get, but it was one that contrasted with the rest of the farmhouse. After this day? No word from Jesse, reports from people about what had happened to that poor man in the town square, and an endless chain of recurring fears for her daughter? Well, Ronnie couldn't sleep. She'd tried several times now, but always ended up hugging her pillow tight, staring at the walls or ceiling. Finally, she'd given it up and returned to her past time from that morning again.

As long as the pen held up? Ronnie was up for drawing. It was soothing on a couple of levels, really; the pressure of the pen tip on her skin, the focus of creating a pattern, even just the monotony of filling in patches of black. Too much was bad, but she'd done one foot that morning, and now she was working one forearm with soft swirls of what looked like black sand, details that she somehow managed to express with nothing but the lone pen and her own skin as a canvas as she sat on the edge of her bed.

He silently crept upstairs, figuring the bedrooms were up there. And he saw one light on. Walking over, he stared at it, feeling like hell on a number of levels. Then he sighed, and leaned his back against the doorframe, not doing anything. Watching the light cast shadows in the hall. He knew her. He knew that she wouldn't be sleeping right now. Ronnie was a lot like him in that respect. When she was stressed out, she couldn't sleep. And right now, he was guessing she was pretty damn stressed out. And who's fault is that, asshole? he asked himself. Shutting his eyes, he just remained where he was for a long stretch of moments, not even trying to alert who he thought was behind the door to his presence. It wasn't even occurring to him that he should probably have a good story ready in case he was wrong.

By and large, she was oblivious. And any part of Veronica's mind that wasn't was easily lumped into a group labeled 'paranoid' by the rest of her thoughts. of course she was paranoid; she'd survived months confined in a private torture pen only to find out that she was still very trapped, and her reason for enduring? Was likely in the hands of her captors. So sure, she felt paranoid as she rose from the bed nigh-silently on bare feet, one sporting a long section of leaves on a vine, and padded to the door. Ronnie moved to one side, gripping her pen like she thought she could actually use it as a weapon and quickly tugging her door open, just waiting to see nothing at all and feel like a fool.

Jesse jumped a little bit, not having expected that, and he jumped back, turning to look at the door, arm up to defend himself if he had to--an automatic reaction he'd learned from dealing with shady people his whole life--and his heart was racing. Then, after the initial shock wore off, which in Jesse-land was only a few seconds, since one really needed to be on top of their game while dealing with primarily shady people...and he saw her. Ronnie. His Ronnie. His Ronnie that he hadn't seen in months and months and he missed so much it hurt and left a hollow, un-touched hole in his psyche because she hadn't been there. Ronnie, who he'd fallen for when he was seventeen and never actually got over. ...and who was holding a pen like she was going to stab him with it. "That loaded?" he asked, also an automatic reaction, that kneejerk response to say something to crack the tension.

He wasn't the only one who jumped from the surprise. After all, she'd expected the halls to be empty and her own fears the result of a late night, a strange house, and a nightmarish situation. She hadn't expected him. But then, in her whole life, she'd never expected him, or someone like him. Her daughter's father, the man she left because she loved him and knew she couldn't help him. Over the years, Ronnie had learned to guard herself against him, but the months alone had stripped them away. So the surprise was plain on her face as Ronnie took a startled step back, and at his question? The pen fell from nerveless fingers. "Oh my god," she whispered in shock, three quick steps leading Ronnie right at him as she moved to hug Jesse with a flood of relief.

Well, that had been what he was about to do too, but she beat him to the punch, which wasn't at all unwelcome. He just took it one step farther, and he picked her up, hugging her tight to him, and he took the few steps into her room and shut the door with one hand, before he brought it back around her, to rest on her back. He didn't say anything, he just shut his eyes tight, and gave himself a good moment to honest to god cling. Trying to describe what it felt like to see her again would have been impossible. It was such a jumble of feelings that they all tied in together and mixed up into a mess. He was elated, he was shocked, he was happy, pained...so much more. The crushing guilt was just one step away as well, though it held off for a few more moments as he just...experienced her being there again.

Ronnie felt the months slip away, maybe even years folding back. It just felt so... familiar. So natural. The way she hung diminutively in his arms, the pressure of his hug, even the soft sigh she heard him breathe out, any of it alone would've been enough to make her eyes water again. Ronnie reached one arm up as the other squeezed around Jesse's back, letting her hand smooth across the back of his head. "God, Jesse?" she murmured, "Oh god... oh god I'm sorry."

There it was! Here, back with a vengeance, his guilt. Hearing her say she was sorry, and to add to it, that she'd said it first, yeah, that all added in, and that came crashing down on his head with the force of a freight train. He hugged her tighter, picking her up higher, so he could bury his face in her neck, walking a few halting steps to her bed to sit down, keeping her with him so she could sit on his lap. She was such a tiny thing anyways. He...really needed to say something. He needed to get his shit together enough to say something. "Ronnie...don't--don't--it's not you're fault, it's not, I'm sorry, okay baby?" Which he wasn't actually allowed to call her anymore, hadn't been for a long time, though he slipped up on that score fairly often. Right now he wasn't even thinking about it. Like he hadn't when he'd pmed her in the first place. "I'm sorry, and this is all my fault, and I didn't mean...I'm sorry I didn't get your message til late, and..." And he'd spent his time with Camber. Shit. Hello more guilt. Just when you thought there wasn't any more room for any in your head...

Whatever Jesse had been about to say, she didn't want him to keep going. "Jesse, stop," she whispered, head shaking against Jesse's shoulder before Veronica finally leaned back a little, rubbing at one of her eyes. "It's not all your fault," she added, fighting the weird rush that just hearing him call her 'baby' gave her. It was all weird; even beyond the nightmare of their circumstances, this moment was far too close of an echo of the night they'd shared some time ago, a few months before the experiment had hit. Really, it was too weird to linger on, so she forced herself to bask in the relief of seeing him instead.

"I shouldn't have acted like that, not after.... jesus, I missed you," she murmured, withdrawing her hand from her eyes. "And I am sorry. But I was.. I am scared," Ronnie went on, the emphasis there in her quiet tone. "They lied to me, Jesse! They lied to me and they... they have our little girl, they have her and I don't know where she is." That brought the tears back as she pushed the ink-stained hand up through her hair.

"Shh, shh, Ronnie..." he started, because he didn't want her to cry, or tell him she was sorry, because she didn't have anything to be sorry about in his eyes. "Ronnie, this is my fault, this was my idea, it was my trouble in the first place, I should have just...packed you both up and sent you to Hawaii. I just...I'm sorry, they lied to me too, or didn't tell me anything, and I just...had to wonder and I thought she was with you, but...I missed you too." God had he missed her. And even if they were both emotionally wrecked right now, there was a part of him that felt more whole with her being physically there again. Where he could hold her, and hear her, and feel her breathing, and see that she'd cut her hair and part of the design she'd been drawing had smudged.

He felt thinner against her. Not much, but Jesse was familiar enough that Ronnie noticed that, she noticed the tremble in his limbs. What had he been through? She didn't know, so no matter what he said? She did have to apologize. "You didn't know," she whispered, shaking her head as she tried to convince herself as much as him. Because some part of Veronica's head? It did blame Jesse for this. He'd done something that had necessitated running, after all. He'd done something... Jesse-like, and Ronnie didn't need details yet. "You didn't know what they were going to do to us," Ronnie expanded, "That they'd pull us apart and..." Take her. Her jaw clenched as Ronnie fought against the tears. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again," she finished with a shudder of relief, burying her face in his shoulder and squeezing tight again.

He hugged her again, hand drawing into her hair, holding the back of her head lightly to him, and he buried his own face in towards her neck. He didn't say anything for a few moments, because he felt emotional, and he didn't especially want to do anything stupid. Whenever she'd gotten like this in the past, he'd just...been there. A rock, being as solid a presence as possible, being there, and stable, and everything she needed. He just didn't know if he could hold up his end of the bargain this time, but god did he need to. He needed to do this for her. Needed to be there, and start trying to make up for everything, even if he didn't know if that was even possible. But...every other time she'd needed him, it was for other reasons. Not that their baby girl was gone. Not that the light of both of their lives was just...missing. Yeah, he
couldn't say anything. Not right then, his voice would crack, he knew it. So he just held her. Kept her in close. It wasn't enough, though. And somehow he doubted anything he ever did again in his life would be. Par for the course, wasn't it.

On some level it did work. She squeezed as tight as she could, breathing slow and easy against Jesse's shoulder as they held each other. No questions were answered, and things might get worse once they were, but for now? This grounded her, this was a reality she could at least feel. "Where did they send you?" she asked eventually, sniffling softly and daring to pull back enough to look at Jesse, "What happened? Are... are you okay?" Asking about Jessie would only hurt for both of them, she needed to feel better about him right now, since there didn't seem to be anything else she could feel good about in this.

Jesse had started rubbing her back a little, and that graduated to her side when she pulled back to look at him. He told himself he wasn't allowed to change things right now. Talking had to happen. He couldn't just...kiss her and make himself and her forget for a while. But he wanted to. In the end he looked down for a moment, towards her hip, then back up to meet her gaze. "It was a big house...middle of the woods. Everything was okay for a while. Then the food stopped coming. Everything ran out. We split up into groups to try and find help. I was in one of them. I got found, and brought here. They...I was told at the time that they still didn't know where I'd been. So, in theory, there are still people there. But...that's not important, where were you?" He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, fingertips tracing along her jawline towards her chin, before he rested his hand on her side again.

That? That was a lot to take in. Ronnie rarely got outright angry, but hearing that he'd had no troubles until the food supply ran out? Well, that definitely made her wonder uneasily. So did the idea of stranded people being out there somewhere factoring around 'unimportant'. But she wasn't about to dig the same hole she'd just climbed out of, and even if she'd been inclined? The passage of his fingers around her ear sent a shiver down Ronnie's spine, tilting her head towards his hand. "A... a bunker," she began with a swallow, "For a while, at least. A sort of fake house? We were kept inside the whole time, and we found these... tunnels. Once people started getting lost or having accidents, I stopped exploring." Shaking her head as if she didn't want to elaborate, Ronnie swallowed harder and looked back to him. "People died down there..."

"God, Ronnie, I'm sorry.." he started, because he was. And part of him was having a merry time beating himself up over everything she went through. Why couldn't she have gotten the experiment he had? Why had she been stuck someplace and tortured, when for the most part, room mate problems aside, their house had been torture free? He was quiet for a moment, just watching her eyes. "I'm so sorry." he said, voice a lot quieter. And he meant it. He really, really meant it. But then Jesse meant it every time he told her he was sorry. In their years since they'd met, he always meant it when he said those words. It just didn't fix him. Or the situation.

There was definitely damage lurking in her brown eyes somewhere, but she'd dealt with it during the experiment by pushing it down deep, and Ronnie was keeping it under control by simply not talking about it for now. "You didn't do it to me," she murmured, shaking her head. She knew his thoughts well enough, he was telling himself he did do it. "You didn't," Ronnie stressed quietly, reaching up to rest a hand on the back of his neck. He always meant it when he apologized, and she believed that, but it was hard for it to matter when he did it as much as Jesse'd had to over the years. Still, right now? It mattered.

"And I survived," she went on with a sigh, "Most of us did... we stuck together. There's a girl here? I knew her, she helped me today. And we're... everyone here was in these places, right? So maybe we all stuck together." There was the hints of the optimist she normally was, looking for the good in each of them that would've helped all of them. "I talked to a woman on the computer who said she knew you? Cam? Have you seen her? She... she sounds like she was worried for you when I showed up."

He was completely focused on her, listening closely, watching her eyes, fully there in the moment with her--right up until she mentioned Cam. And then there it was, the little flicker of a flinch behind his eyes, signified most by the tick of his gaze off over her right shoulder, then down, before it ticked back up to hers. Cam, who he'd gone home with earlier, when he'd been so amazingly drunk and messed up in the head. Cam, who he'd let himself fall into to just forget for a while...even if 'a while' had only been a few hours, including crash time afterwards. And there was that guilt again. "Yeah, I...I've seen her." he said, reaching up to drag his fingers through his hair, and scratch at the back of his neck for a moment. All little tells he wasn't able to keep from her over the years. Jesse James, feeling guilty. "She said you said you were sorry."

"I am," Ronnie assured him plainly, too caught up in watching Jesse to really say more. She'd known him for just around half of her life now, and she knew those signs. Sometimes it meant he'd done something he shouldn't have, something illegal. Sometimes it happened when he had a date, when the woman was someone Veronica knew wouldn't be around for long or he just felt awkward about her knowing he was dating. So... which was this? "Jesse?" she prodded gently, reaching her hand from the base of his neck to settle over his, "What's wrong?" In this context? He could've chosen anything about their predicament for an answer. She just hoped he'd address whatever it was that had his eyes flicking around the room.

What was wrong? God, where could he even start? Everything ever might have worked. His entire existence, from conception onwards? Every decision he'd ever made? Except one. Or two. Two. Getting together with Ronnie in the first place, and the decision to keep their baby. Since, he'd actually been in on that, and he knew most guys weren't. Not at that age. So, his girls, he didn't regret. Everything else was suspect. He thought she was just asking about the most recent bout of 'fuck', and he glanced away again, before looking back at her. "Camber and I...might kind of sort of, maybe, occasionally, nothing serious, I mean..." he started.

Sometimes, in the past, it had bothered her. It had been rare? But it happened. As much as Ronnie had only ever wanted to see Jesse find someone who made him happy and kept him that way, it stung now and then. And she'd learned to handle it, she thought. But to know in the middle of this reunion that it was happening again? Well, Veronica couldn't entirely hide the reaction. Her eyes shut as a little tremor ran through her, mouth lining faintly. I was lost and you were... she started, forcing herself to cut the thought off before she said it aloud. Because she had no claim, she hadn't in years and years. They had a daughter, but that wasn't a claim to Jesse himself. "It's okay," Ronnie said at last, looking at him again and nodding in emphasis, "Really, it is. If... if she's a good person? If she helped you? Then it's okay."

"She's a good person, we--I--" Jesse started, and wondered how often he'd been in this position. At least one thing was there--it actually felt normal. Which was messed up, he was sure. Didn't help the massive guilt complex that came along with it, but it was there. Mostly, he was concentrating on the fact that she'd reacted. Her eyes shut and there was another pang for him, and his had on her side tightened a little. "I'm not going to say that she doesn't mean anything, because she does." he said, voice light. "But she's just a friend." Just a friend who occasinally he got physical with. "She's more into women than men anyways...it was just..." He'd been amazingly messed up when he'd got there. She'd been there to help him deal. And words didn't always help. Words got hollow after a while. Could he say that?

"You don't--" Ronnie started to protest, lips pursing as his grip tightened on her slightly. Even if neither of them acknowledged it? Ronnie had known there was something there between them before they'd come here. "You don't have to explain," she managed after a moment, shaking her head at him, "Not this, and not to me. Not who she's into or what you are with her, okay? I... you're alright, Jesse. That's what I needed to know." Well, it was what she needed to know that she could know. Finding out that they'd both survived largely unscathed? Well, it was as hopeful of a start as the pictures of their daughter were in their own agonizing way. "You're here, I'm here." We'll find Jessie together.

"Yes I do." he said first, immediately. He did owe her the explanation. Or, in his head he did. He owed her that, and a hell of a lot more. Like, say, every cent that he supposedly got when he was 'rescued'. That was still theoretically sitting in a bank account. And every dime he had gotten from the bank job. God, was he going to have to fess up to that at some point? ...he might have to. She'd never asked him questions before about anything, even if he knew she knew not everything was on the level. Like the engagement ring that he'd bought her when they'd both been pretty young. You didn't get diamonds like that working a part time job. Or no job. You didn't get diamonds like that and a platinum setting unless it was your parents money you were spending or it was inherited. Thinking about the ring he looked down on her right hand, where she'd moved it after she'd broken off their engagement. He reached out and brushed his thumb over the back of her finger, just looking down at it for a moment, before he looked back up at her eyes. "That all you need to know?" he asked, voice quiet.

It wasn't, of course. She wanted more answers. Why had they needed to hide? What had he been doing on the rare occassions when he couldn't be there for Jessie? Where had money come from in the past when Ronnie couldn't make her tuition payments or bills or Jessie got sick? He'd never said, she'd never asked. Because she knew she couldn't have stopped him. If she could? Well, Veronica liked to think that Jesse would've changed just to be there with her and their child. "For now," she agreed with a slight nod. "I... I can't do this again, Jesse. Not alone. Before? Down there in that place? I almost wanted to just go in the tunnels, lose myself. Seeing you and Jessie kept me from doing it." She glanced down at the passage of his hand as it twisted the ring slightly and let it catch the lowlight of the room. His gift, his promise that she'd broken so he wouldn't have to. "So... for now all I need to know is that you're here. Tomorrow? I might ask more."

He'd take the stay of execution. And that was exactly what it felt like. Just a modifier. A breather before the crash came. She couldn't do this again. He didn't even know what she was talking about right now. Him? Them? Was there a them again? He'd been intending for there to be. He'd wanted the last job to be the last job. So he could make sure there wouldn't have to be a next one. So he could just...settle down, or...whatever. That's what he'd wanted. But things hadn't wound up that way, had they? And that was on him. It pained him that she'd think even for a second of getting lost. That had him pulling her back in to hold her tightly again, as he wondered if he was even allowed to tell her he loved her. He knew he did occasionally. Often, before their official break up, but when times were hardest now and then in the interim. He liked to tell himself that she knew that. And he also knew that sometimes when he said it, it hadn't helped matters. Would it now? Or would it make everything worse? For the moment he held his tongue, terrified and convinced he was going to say the wrong thing. So...he solved that issue by keeping his mouth shut.

Ronnie would've loved to know his thoughts, just to clarify, to dispel that basic fear. She couldn't do this experiment again, not with Cheyenne's help even. With him? She felt like she could try. "You know I'm here," she murmured, watching the uncertainty flash in Jesse's eyes, "No matter what, you know that, right? If I get mad, if you... say something I don't like? Or whatever happens with your friend and you? I'm here." Because he needed that, and he had for years. She'd consoled him often enough to know that Jesse had to be reminded. He liked to pile blame on himself, to imagine that he could drive away everyone. And he couldn't, not with Veronica. "I have three people in this world, Jesse James. Three people. That number's small enough, I won't let you decide it should be smaller."

He needed to hear that. He really, really needed it. And the wash of relief that it gave him came in with a backtide of more guilt. Because what else he needed was to not be leaning on her. Not be taking the comfort from her. This was his fault. This was his doing. Who the fuck was he to sit here, and listen to her trying to help him feel better? It made his chest ache, being reminded of how often she'd done that for him. Whenever he'd been feeling especially awful about life in general, or himself, or anything, he'd go to her. And she always came through for him. Every time. I love you. he thought towards her, but still didn't know if that was going to make everything worse, harder. Yet more unfair. Because he knew her. And knew it would effect her. In the end, he nodded, pulling her in again, holding her close. "I know that...and I'm not going anywhere. ...you know that too, right?" he asked. He'd never gone anywhere before...or...he'd tried not to.

What he needed was to not be doing that, because pulling Ronnie in snugly against him? It gave all sorts of strange rushes of heat and security. And sure, they felt great, but in a way that made her want more; a sort of 'more' she didn't think she could try for now. "I know," Veronica murmured into his neck with a soft sigh, feeling vaguely guilty. Because he tried? But there were things she'd never asked about, and he didn't volunteer them. That separation alone was frustrating, but she'd grown used to it over the years. "After that other place?" Ronnie said, leaning her head back to smile hesitantly up at Jesse, reaching out to smooth away a line in his brow, "I think I'm going to need you around to keep me from going bald and getting ink poisoning."

That got a little smile out of him, and he reached up to drift his fingers through her hair. "I like what you've done to it." he told her. did you see Jessie cut her hair? It's shorter now, shoulder length, she's looking more like you every day, did you see? God, did that thought hurt. In a huge, absolutely horribly pained way. He had to swallow down everything that went with it, and he glanced down, running his fingertips over the design she'd done up her leg, and he traced his fingers over it. "I like this too." He smiled, very faintly, still not looking back up, eyes down on her leg. "Reminds me of the ones you did...after what's his name..." He knew the name, he just didn't say it right away. He knew all of the guys she'd been involved with over the years. He paid attention. "Raymond."

"I was here alone for part of the day," she explained of the drawing on her foot and calf, briefly biting her lip as Jesse brushed it. Was he trying to make things more complicated? She didn't think so entirely; it was just the way he'd always been with her, he liked to coax reactions. Of course, that had been a long time ago. "Found a pen, found some scissors, I helped fix a fence," Ronnie went on with a smirk. "Without that last one? Who knows what else I'd have." She flinched a little at the reference to her last involvement, dispelling it quickly. Ray had proposed, she'd said yes... but he couldn't mesh Jesse into their world. Or Jesse wouldn't mesh. Whatever the details were? Raymond had been pretty roughed up when Ronnie'd seen him last, and everything he said told her that it could only work if she gave up this. She wasn't going to do that. "You think about my exes more than I do," she teased, watching him study the trail of leaves on her leg.

There was the tiny little lift to the corner of his mouth at that, his eyes not going back up, but following the pattern, and he kept the tracing up too. He wasn't necessarily thinking about how he didn't actually have any right to do that. With Ronnie...his lines were blurry at best. And right now, he wasn't of a mind to pay stricter attention. "Wasn't thinking about him." he corrected, voice mildly amused. "I was thinking about the pattern all up your left side." he said. "I liked the greens in it."

His touch was only getting more distracting, drowning out the lingering fears she had and the uncertainty she felt about the moment. Because she was certain that she liked it, and that she'd like where it kept going. So Ronnie was somewhat surprised to realize her hand had moved to her knee, catching Jesse's as it drifted higher. She didn't want to? But she needed to. For him, for this Camber. "I need some paints," she murmured, keeping his hand caught for the moment, "It's only been a day and I'm tired of only black. And kicking myself for thinking paint, of all things, is important right now." Maybe there was something in town, though what she'd been told on the journals didn't give Ronnie much hope.

Her stopping him halted everything, including him breathing for a heartbeat. He'd never been one to push. And she didn't have to tell him to stop, that simple motion said it for her. And, as much as he didn't want to be apart from her right now at all, he respected that, and sat back, before sliding her off of his lap, so she could sit on the bed, and he stood up and walked across the room, shoving his hands in his pockets, and he leaned back against the wall. "I'm sure you can find something." he told her, not at all sure about that. But...whatever. Maybe. He'd sure as hell put in the effort to look for her. "How about we find you something nice, colorful, and non-toxic?" he suggested, giving her a light smile.

Jesse's retreat wasn't surprising, but it was unwelcome. The closeness, the feeling she had of weighing absolutely nothing in his lap, was a security blanket of sorts. She just couldn't handle him brushing his fingers all over her without wanting to return the favor. And Ronnie's mind was raw and unsteady enough that if she started to? Well, this would end up like when she'd seen him after breaking things off with Raymond, or so she thought. And with everything both of them were already handling? The uncertainty of the next morning wouldn't be welcome.

"How about you humor my quirks when we're in less dire straits," Ronnie replied with a smirk of her own, hopping to her feet and moving towards Jesse, "I'll survive without painting myself up, you know." She stepped in close, head resting against his chest as Ronnie tucked her arms into Jesse's sides, not quite pushing them between him and the wall behind him, but still wanting to hold him.

He was lightly surprised that she came back, especially when he was trying to give her space, but he wasn't complaining about it. He took his hands out of his pockets, and put them around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "How about I humor your quirks whenever I get a spare second to, because it's interesting, distracting, and if I've learned anything being part of the experiments...you need to take anything positive when you can get it." That was a fairly easily learned lesson. Though, he was willing to bet people who'd been through more would have given up on anything good. He just...wasn't about to do that. Especially not in front of Ronnie.

Plenty of people had given up, Ronnie had seen it. The smiles died first, though they'd died early on for most of the people she'd lived with. Humor faded away, and bit by bit people abandoned the personal details and quirks that had never seemed essential to survival. Ronnie had tried not to, and she'd largely succeeded. Her hobbies were personal things, they encouraged her drawing in on herself when she felt weak or exposed. "I'll just make sure that if you do? The designs will be a little easier to see," she teased, nuzzling against Jesse's chest a little. Because his observation about her old designs? Well, it was accurate. And it had taken special circumstances for Jesse to get to see them.

Jesse thought to himself that he would be just fine with them being difficult to see, so long as he got the opportunity to do it. But he didn't say that, because he just...couldn't, right now. He rubbed her back lightly, an old habit that he didn't even really think about. "Thanks, I'll appreciate that." he told her, tone light. "I just like seeing you do anything creative, you know that."

The rub was more than welcome, and Ronnie smiled into his chest as he gave the small praise. "Well then I'll have to make you something," she murmured, glancing up at Jesse after a moment, "It's been a while since you got one, right? And even one that was meant for you?" Veronica grinned warmly, remembering how it had all started. She'd needed this security, because now? Well, she'd still be scared for Jessie, but tomorrow would be that much less terrifying to face, whatever it held.

"It's been a long time since I got one that was meant for me." Jesse confirmed for her...but she knew that too. He smiled a touch, mostly for her benefit than because he was feeling like he wanted to. He kissed the top of her head, then hugged her close again, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

Perhaps she'd imagined it? But Ronnie had thought there was something in Jesse's eyes before, something familiar. The little kiss on her head backed that up, imagination or no. Ronnie moved to squeeze Jesse gently, sighing a little as she tangibly untensed against him. "I love you, you know," she murmured, leaning back into his chest, "You're family, Jesse James. Even if you look like you're adopted." She sighed again, looking up at him once more. "You could... you could stay tonight. Sleep here, if you wanted." Though he might need to head back to Camber. And that stung.

And now he wished he'd told her that first, when it had occurred to him to say it. Because now it was going to look like he was just parroting it back, when it had practically overwhelmed him earlier. He also had the hardest urge to kiss her. Which he was positive was not in any way going to be acceptable. And he'd always viewed Ronnie as family. Even after she'd broken off the engagement. She just...was, and that was it. End of story. It was why no matter how many times he'd come home to an angry girlfriend, having spent time with Ronnie and their daughter, even if things had been going very well with said girlfriend, when they dropped that 'it's her or me' ultimatum, it always ended with him saying that they'd better get going then. He just...wouldn't give her up. Not entirely. She was always going to be there. Of course, he was always going to love her, too, but that wasn't the issue. Or, maybe that was exactly the issue. That was actually more likely.

He hugged her tighter, both in response to what she said, and to stop himself from pulling her back enough to draw her in for a kiss. He'd been amazingly hurt and upset earlier by the girl in his arms, and had even gone home with another woman afterwards just to kind of forget for a while, how stupidly unfair would it be for him to do that now? Not that he'd always been the best at denying himself things. It was a character flaw. Still he was going to try his hardest not to be a complete dick here. Plus, usually when he stayed the night at her place, he crashed on the couch, not in her room. Crashed on the couch, and whenever Jessie would wake up in the mornings, she would leap over the back of the couch to land on him, wake him up, and demand pancakes and to watch a movie of her choice. It was tradition.

Which sent him spiralling back down through more waves of grief. Because that sure as hell wasn't going to happen this time. His voice was just a little choked when he finally made himself answer her. "I love you too." That was all he could manage to say at the moment, but at least he got something articulated. He should probably let up on holding her so tight. He should probably leave. Go for a long walk. Something. Anything. Where'd he left the bottle of whiskey?

That sparse reply? Well, that was almost as good as 'I can't stay'. Yes, it felt good for her to hear him say that, it always had. They'd had tense moments in the past, times when one or both of them couldn't say those words. But when they could? Well, it felt good. It made Ronnie reflect on how lucky she'd been. Still, the simplicity of it made her think he was leaving, and the idea of sitting alone with so much to consider was a frightening one. "You don't have to stay," she whispered eventually, her grip on him not loosening one bit. She could give him the out even if she didn't want to, Ronnie had done it in the past. 'Go on your date, go see your girlfriend, we'll be here', she never wanted to trap him. Or she did, but she wouldn't let herself. "You can? But you don't have to, if you need to... go."

It was much less that he needed to go, and much more that he was dying to stay. Like he wanted to reach up, cup her face, and just...kiss her. Then they could stop talking, and do something else. It had worked between them in lieu of actual word-comminication for them before, it could work again, right? No, prick, it can't. he told himself. And yet he almost did it anyhow. He drew in a deep breath of the scent of her hair, and kept his eyes shut for a moment. "Ronnie, you know I want to stay." he said, not even sure where he was going with his statement. "I just...you didn't...and..." Well there went coherency. He'd started out well.

"You lost me at the end there," she told him, teasingly poking a finger into Jesse's ribs. She hadn't placed it right away, but lingering in close like this? yeah, he'd been drinking, Ronnie could smell it faintly. "Slow down, Jesse. Decide if you want to tell me, or if you want to stay or if I should just... see you when I see you. We'll be okay, whichever you choose." If Ronnie would admit to any real character perks? It was her patience, her near-saintly patience that was reserved largely for him exclusively. She wasn't a pushover, there were fires that could be roused, but they were hard to spark. But with Jesse? Well, they came to the surface a little more easily, a sort of passion that focused on helping him and being there when she needed him.

So she looked back up at him, leaning into his grip to savor the press of fingers on her back. Which was a bad idea, but there they both were. "Trust me like I trust you? Just... if you want to stay? Do it. We'll behave, I promise for both of us." She didn't want to? But hey, hadn't she given him some kind of blessing for whatever he had with Camber like, fifteen minutes earlier?

He looked down at her, and had to give the ghost of a smirk. "That might be my problem." he said, it easier to articulate since she'd brought it up, and he could just speak playing off of her words. "Behaving." he clarified, even if he didnt' really think she'd need that. ...no, in fact he was positive she didn't need that clarified. He still had her held, and he'd ducked his head a little closer to her, a purely unconscious gesture. "I want to stay." he told her. "I just...don't really feel all that in control of my actions." he admitted. Which he might not have admitted to anyone else ever, but to her...yeah. Especially right now.

Jesse was right, he didn't need to clarify that. Honestly? Ronnie sort of liked it, it was something to feel oddly special for. He still looked at her with the same shine in his eyes that had been there when they were ridiculous teenagers. Veronica wasn't sure it had ever faded, except for the day she'd said she couldn't marry him. "Well, I'm in control of mine," she assured him and herself, nodding a little, "And I refuse to be the Other Woman. So it'll just be sleep, talk, maybe breakfast unless we all find things reset like I've been told happens every morning." She leaned back again, this time tugging his arms with her vaguely in the direction of her bed. It'd be cramped? But it would also be so comforting.

In order to be the other woman, I'd have to be solidly involved with someone. Jesse said. But he also knew Ronnie. And she'd view even loose involvement as a stop-point for her. There were lines the woman didn't cross, and that was one of them. He went with her, of course, eyes not leaving hers. "Yeah...but you have no idea what I would give to kiss you right now." he told her. Since hey, it was on his mind, it was honest, and he didn't always have the best brain/mouth filter when it came to her.

That got the biggest smile Ronnie had given in months. Really, the runner-up would've been from this morning, with her tears spilling onto the pictures of their daughter. And this? Well, it was totally different. It was wide and shy, downturned at his stomach as Ronnie fought the urge to tell him to do it, that there was nothing to give first. "I think..." she said eventually, still looking down and taking another step back towards the bed, "You might ruin something good that you have. And I won't let you. You'll thank me for it." Because she knew this man, he didn't just shack up with someone, no matter how casual he said things were. "So let's... let's just pretend it's like back home. We talk, we laugh, I fall asleep and drool on your shoulder."

This was the part that was always difficult for him. There was always that urge. That inner drive to just ignore what she said, and do it anyways. And, generally speaking, most of the time it was easier to resist, because he had seen her on a fairly constant level. But now it had been months. Months of going nuts wondering where she was, how she was doing. And, add on top of that that their daughter was usually around, and that had him curbing things for her sake, but she wasn't here right now. And the gaping wound that left on his psyche had him wanting to lose himself with Ronnie more than ever. He reached up, cupping her face, thumb lightly brushing against her cheek, and he rested his forehead in against her temple. It was a near thing, he did damn near go through with it. "...you might need to drool on me from the bed while I crash on the floor, baby." he told her. There was almost humor in his tone, but underneath that there was an undercurrent of truth laced with desperation.

She couldn't deny the truth of that observation. Not with how close he was, not with his hand on her cheek just drawing her in, telling her without a word to just turn her head a few bare inches. "If you say so," she murmured eventually, reaching down to disengage his arm from her gently. He hadn't followed through, and that? Well, that meant Jesse knew it was right to hold back. Whatever urges she had to taste him, the logic fighting those urges was the right thing to do. For years he'd been all the support she had needed, and they'd managed that without giving into the tension between them. One more night wouldn't kill her. And so long as it didn't? The next one wouldn't either, and so on and so forth. She could do this for both their sakes.

"I just... it's a strange bed. Might take me a while to doze off." And it probably wouldn't if he was next to her, but that option was off of the table. So Ronnie dropped onto her bed with a little huff, grabbing a pillow and halfheartedly throwing it at Jesse.

He caught it, and had to take a second to work through the vast disappointment in her stepping back. Because some part of him had wanted to get the green light. Or, possibly, not just a part. Possibly every fiber of his being. That was a little closer to accurate. And he didn't think he'd be falling asleep easily either. He dropped the pillow on the floor, and took a moment to sit down and unlace his boots. "So...talk to me. That'll make you sleepy." Not really, generally when they got to talking late into the night it was both of them fighting to stay up to keep talking. They weren't people who ran out of things to say to one another. They'd always been compatible as people, even if you ignored all the physical stuff.

"Liar," Ronnie was quick to tease, propping an elbow under her to watch as Jesse shed his boots. She didn't think it'd help her sleep, though Veronica was somewhat hesitant to sleep anyway. If things reset? He'd be gone when she woke up. She might not even have the smeared pen-drawings to remind her that this had all happened. "You know I only get sleepy with an arm on me. But I won't push? We'll just... take our chances. Me with sleeplessness, you with a bad back from lying on the floor." And despite both of them being disappointed with the night, she knew it would pass. With Jesse? She could never stay let down or mad for very long. Wasn't that love, after all?

He leaned his back against the bed, and tilted his head back, turning it to the side to look at her. "Well, I could come up there with you. I just reiterate the idea that I'm not a saint, and I still want to kiss you." he said. Because he did. "Think if you'd actually buy it, I might promise you the moon and stars for that." he told her. He gave her what was probably a smile in another life. She knew he wasn't a saint. Hell. He wasn't even a boy scout. He could claim no real virtue. And, with that thought, he had a thought that often occurred to him when he was looking at her like he was. That she'd always deserved someone better than him.

Veronica wanted to tempt fate, to push her own self-control. She would've hit him hard if she'd known what he was thinking. Ronnie had tried the guys who had their lives together, the ones who didn't doubt their choices. They all lacked... something. The humor, the risky edge maybe, the vibe to them that made Ronnie want to squeeze Jesse tight and not let go. But she had no reason to tell him that now, there was something else on her mind. "Would you be okay to sleep up here if... if you got one?" she asked, leaning a little to rest her free hand on Jesse's shoulder. More importantly, would she be able to stop if he decided to take the offer?

He arched a brow as she said that, and actually had to think about it. He opened his mouth to automatically answer, but then thought better of the 'yes' that wanted to come out. So he could have what he wanted. Wouldn't be fair to tell her that if it was really just going to either torture him, or make him all the more likely to misbehave. Which...if he thought about it, was probably more likely. So, he answered her with a question, and a smile that bordered on despondent. "Have I ever been any good at that?" he asked. He didn't generally do just tastes of things. If he did kiss her...he was going to want more than that. He knew it. There wasn't much use in trying to say otherwise, even if he wanted to tell himself that lie. Whatever, he knew that wasn't going to be the case.

Ronnie's grip tightened on Jesse's shoulder for a moment as she considered that. She knew the answer immediately, but it was tempting to not care, to just drown out everything wrong with this place and lose herself in him. Months of chastity would do that to a woman, after all. "Good point," she said at last, grudgingly letting go of him and rolling onto her back with a sigh of frustration. Sleep definitely wasn't going to come easy tonight, not when she knew there were better alternatives right down there. "I just... I hope everyone's wrong. I hope you're here tomorrow," Ronnie added in a softer voice, eyes aimed at the ceiling.

He kept his eyes on her, and internally agreed wholeheartedly with that little frustrated note in her voice. He could back that up. Entirely, even. Setting the pillow down on the floor, he noted it was hard wood, and had to think to himself for a moment if he couldn't just...climb up there with her, kiss her, and...see if she was really as adamant about nothing happening as her words said. After all, it wasn't like body language, her voice, and everything else wasn't giving him a different reading. But he'd never been that guy. The one that claimed that a girl really said 'yes' in other ways while her mouth said no. In fact, the very idea turned his stomach. That was something you really got hit up hard with when you had a daughter. Every little tendency you happened to know guys had, every shady thought, or not quite on the level intention was highlighted in your mind, because you knew you'd want to take a bat to anyone who did it to your little girl. Annnd he was thinking about Jessie again. Which he guessed helped out his less than stellar intentions right now. He reached out for the lamp, and clicked it off, before he could do anything stupid. "I hope I'm here tomorrow too." he said. "If I'm not...just contact me. You know I'll be here the second you do." Because he always was. Any time she called, he dropped everything to be there for her. That wasn't going to stop now.

Laying still for a moment after the light went out, Ronnie listened as the silence settled again. She could hear him breathing, shifting around on the bare wood floor. And if their minds still ran similarly? In the dark, without talking, he was thinking of everything that was still wrong. She certainly was. Ronnie sucked in a soft breath of determination, slipping her feet out of bed. She clutched her blanket in one hand and the pillow in the other as she rose. She didn't take a single step, though, instead lowering down to the floor to settle behind Jesse, belly to back. "No wise ideas," she murmured as she draped the blanket across them and slid an arm over his side, "You're not allowed to even turn over. I just... I need this tonight, Jesse. Not just tonight? But especially tonight too." It was so familiar, so reassuring, could he blame her? Or did he need it just as badly?

He exhaled, tension that immediately kicked up when he heard her moving easing some when she settled in behind him. He slid his hand down her arm to settle over hers, squeezing it a little. Any other night he would ask her if she was sure that he wasn't allowed to turn over. If she was absolutely positive that they couldn't give into things. But that would have been massively unfair of him, and he knew it, so he didn't. "I missed you." he told her, voice quiet.

Smiling wide in the dark, Veronica curled closer and breathed a sigh of relief from the comfort those words brought. Her hand twisted to grip Jesse's, and she was silently thankful for the little gestures that said he wouldn't push again. She might not have been able to say no like this. "I missed you too," Ronnie echoed, feeling Jesse's heartbeat through his back, "But we're both here now. And we'll fix this, Jesse. Together, for her." That thought, if she could hold onto it, seemed good enough to promise Ronnie an easy sleep.