━━𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 [𝐇𝐎𝐇𝐇]

𝐓𝐖𝐎

-𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫-

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2

𝐍𝐨𝐰

"Mar.. Margo!" Rough words rang through her ears causing her to place her glass of whiskey down and turn to the voice. Cigarette still in her dainty hands, she gave the man next to her a lopsided smile and a hum in response, too intrigued with the puffs of smoke then the conversation before her.

"Weren't ya gonna quit back on.. you know, drinkin'?" His voice offered the tone of concern, he always took into account that her mental health wasn't the best, so he made it it duty to take her in and act like the father she should of had. He was a middle aged man in his late 40's, went by the name of Andrew, greying hair and beard but an absolute gentleman. He was the owner of the bar, to which he kindly employed Margo a few years ago, resulting in long late night talks filled with laughter and tears.

"But where's the fun in that?" She muttered into the frosty glass, a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, refusing to back down on her bad habit. "I mean I have a shelf stacked high of booze behind me and you expect me to what? Not drink it?"

"No, what I expect though, is for you to go home. You know what that is right? It's the house you live in, where Jack is sitting patiently waiting for you to arrive..." The glass was snatched out her hands and paced out of her reach, an audible sigh escaped her lips as she turned to Andrew again to find him looking at his watch, ".. 5 hours ago? Jesus Mar!"

It's not that she didn't want to go home, but she really didn't want to go home. The past few days haven't exactly been great.. nights where filled with bad dreams and panic attacks. She knew it scared the shit out Jack, just like it did before. And this time, he didn't know what to do. He watched as she drank her problems away, spiral down the same road she had done many times before. This time, Jack wasn't so sure she would emerge from it.

Margo tried to object, muttering something about one more drink but that went short handed as Andrew pulled her off of the stool, directing her to the doors, ready to close up.

As she made her way outside, the October  breeze envelope her dizzy state and hugged her body through the long trench coat she wore, black heeled boots clicked against the paved ground, creating a steady rhythm in the quiet streets. She was only a few blocks away from her house but it was a few blocks too many, Margo Crain was never the one for walking- or any physical movement.

Alcohol still flowed in her veins, setting a spark that lit her whole body on fire, she was in pure euphoria; she was no longer a slave to her demons or subjected to the uneasiness and apprehension. Oh how the past relives itself.

A familiar door came into her vision, lights still burning bright in the rooms of the house, illuminating the dark night. The tips of her fingers trailed down the glass panels, making their way the handle. But before she could twist it, the door swung open, revealing a pair of exhausted eyes staring back at her.

No words were said. Just the sound of clatter as she dropped her belongings on the wooden floor. Margo didn't turn back. The distant click and lock of them entrance she emerged from. Her tired feet trudged up the stairs, wobbly and slow- threatening to topple her over like dominos, though she wouldn't fall in such an organised fashion. On instinct her legs stopped moving as soon as she got to the doorframe, taking a few seconds to build up the courage to walk in there.

With one foot stepping over the wall that split her comfort into angst, the other followed. But as quick as they did.. Margo broke.

Her bony knees buckled underneath her weight, though strong arms were there to catch her. Jacks dark orbs no longer held annoyance nor tiredness, dug deep in the layers were sadness and care. He wrapped his arms tighter, enclosing her in his serenity, heart breaking at distressed sobs that escaped her cracked lips.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself baby." His scratchy voice cracked and croaked as the distant 'shush's' soothes her ears. But that one word, that one damned word. Baby.

Tears were streaming down her face, like small rivers- reaching her heart and splashing into the cracks that were covered by loose strings, bound to fall apart and send her into her own self destruct. "I don't know what to do anymore." It came out barely a whisper but Jack heard it clear as day.

But he couldn't hear the things around her.

The things she was hearing.

Because Margo wasn't the only one crying.

But Jack still held her, rocked her, calmed her. Hushing the the sniffles escaping her blotchy nose. Because he made a promise that he wouldn't break.

It was like the world around them stopped. That is was just them in each other's arms; no watching eyes or wandering spirits, just two broken people scared to let the other go. God knows what would happen if they did.

Her body was numb, worn out and tired. The gentle touch of his hands placing her on the bed for her to drift of into a frightful slumber. Even when his arm was wrapped around her waist- keeping her close and guarded, nothing  could ever take away the fear.

Not even dream catcher that hung protectively above her. Because it never worked, but she always had hope, longing for the feeling of safety that she felt around one person she shouldn't have- the one person that fed the house what it wanted, only wanting one thing in return.

For her children to come home.

So when digital clock flashed the the forbidding number of the deathly hour. The porch lights sung in sync. Two drawn out flickers.

Because Margo might have been home.
But she wasn't home.

And she wasn't the only Crain conflicted with what that meant.

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-𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫-