If You Love Me, Get Clean

Chapter Six

Early 2002

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift
Pulled him in tighter each time he was driftin' away
My spine split from carrying us up the hill
Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill

"Hi," she dumps her keys and bag on the side and skips over to where he's sat slouching on the sofa. He winces as she flops down next to him. Alice freezes. "Will?"

"I'm fine."

Alice ducks her head, grabbing his chin between her fingers and forcing him to look at her. She already knows what he's done, there's no other reason for him to be hiding himself from her. "Jesus Christ!" His eye socket is bruised, there's dry blood down the side of his head from his eyebrow, and the corner of his lower lip is busted. "You've been fighting again."

"I'm fine, honestly."

"Why did you go back to that stupid club?" She's up and across to the kitchen in a flash, grabbing the first aid kit before kneeling herself down in front of him. She takes note of the two empty packets of B&H Gold cigarettes on the coffee table, not that she needs to see them, he stinks of smoke. "William, please. Why?"

"I don't know," his voice is quiet, she can tell he feels scolded, but he bloody well should. "Gives my brain something else to focus on for a little while. Keeps me occupied. Distracted."

Alice shakes her head, opening the antiseptic wipes and cleaner. "Why didn't you call through to the university office for me instead? That's why we bought the stupid phone."

"Because you had a class."

"But–"

"You're not..." he sighs, frustrated. "Alice, you can't make yourself free every time I have a lapse of control."

She starts to clean up his face, desperately trying to be as gentle as possible. Thankfully, it looks ten times worse that it actually is. He'll be sore, and the black eye will take a while to heal, but he will heal. She'll have to get a look at the rest of him, but she doesn't want to think about that right now. "I want to help you," she says softly. "I know it can be an awful place in there," she taps his temple with her fingertip. "But I can help. You don't need to get some bellend in some dodgy, not to mention dangerous, fight club to beat the crap out of you just to switch off."

William closes his eyes, leaning into her touch. "I'm holding you back. I'm interrupting your schedule, I'm unwittingly sabotaging your social life–"

"Stop," she holds his face tenderly, pressing her forehead to his. "You're not doing any of those things. I'm passing my classes, my assignments are getting in on time, and who the hell needs a social life anyway?"

He scoffs. "You deserve better."

"I don't want better," she says firmly. "I want you. I love you. You just need something to do now your course is over. What happened to that woman you were helping?"

"Solved it. Her husband was having an affair."

She groans. "Dull then." William smiles at her. "We'll figure something out. Get your name out there."

His hand wraps around her wrist, his thumb running back and forth over her pulse point. "I love you, Alice Marie Fletcher."

Alice swallows back a sob of glee. She knows he loves her, but the times where he's able to get the actual words out are often rare and emotionally charged.

"I love you, too, William Sherlock Scott Holmes." That earns her a deep throaty chuckle. "Your parents really had a laugh with you and your brother," she tips her chin to kiss him carefully, avoiding his split lip. "No more fight clubs, Will. You'll end up knocking that big brain of yours out of your ears."