Way Down I'll Go

Day of Youth Went Yesterday

"Fine."

She shook her head.

"How are you really feeling?"

His brow furrowed. 

"Fine," he repeated.

She sighed, then schooled the frustration from her face, knowing he'd take it the wrong way.

"Jo, baby, you don't have to hide when you're feeling sick. And you don't have to tiptoe around the house. This is your home, too."

His eyes found his lap as he nodded slightly, obviously unconvinced. With slow, careful movements, she tipped his chin back up until he met her gaze.

"You don't have to earn your place here, Jo. You don't have to try to keep me happy or try not to be a burden. You don't have to try at all, baby. Just be you."

Her fingers left his face and he stared at her with confusion and something close to distress. She saw him fight to keep the walls up and reign in the vulnerability peeking overtop.

"Talk to me, sweetie," she breathed.

He looked down, and then up again, lip quivering nervously.

"I don't..." his eyes flicked back and forth, searching for the words that escaped him. "I don't know how else to be. I've never...no one has ever...you're the first person I've lived with that's...well...easy."

She waited for him to explain.

"I'm not good at this, Rach. This...this...relationship thing. It's always been my job to keep things running, to smooth things over, to...take the hit, you know, when something goes wrong. But you're..."

He ran his hand through his scalp. Another chunk of dark brown hair fell unceremoniously to the floor.

"Shit," he mumbled, leaning forward to retrieve it, then gasping at the pain it caused his ribcage. 

She stopped him and sweeping the strands into her hand and setting them on the coffee table without a word. He frowned for a moment.

"Like that. You're not bothered by things. I... ...I don't know how to handle that."

He looked up at her, pain and worry swirling in his open, unfettered gaze.

"I don't know how to be me, Rach. This is the only me I've ever been."

She met his anxious gaze, nodding. 

"This must all seem so new and confusing, huh?"

She took his hand in hers, smiling gently.

"To be honest, sweetie, I'm out of my element, too. I just don't want you to be afraid to mess up. We're both allowed to get things wrong and fix them and mess up again. That's what a healthy relationship is. Just two people messing up over and over and yet making a choice to love each other in spite of it. I'm not going to decide one day that I don't like you anymore. And I'm trusting that you won't jump ship either when I inevitably screw up. We have to trust each other, baby."

Jo swallowed several times, eyes fixed on the polished floor. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, and Rachel had to strain to catch his words.

"I'm not good at trust."

She let the silence hang in the air. Jo opened his mouth several times, but said nothing. Squeezing his eyes shut, he inhaled slowly.

"Rachel, I need to tell-"

He was interrupted by a key turning in the lock and suddenly they were surrounded by chattering, merry miscreants. Though the boys usually brought a smile to her face, Rachel wanted to scream. He'd been on the brink of letting her into the maelstrom of pain churning inside his soul. 

Yet another opportunity down the drain of interruption.

_______

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Me too!" Jaime chirped.

"Yeah, me too!" Adam mimicked.

Jo's frown deepened. 

"No...I don't think that's a good idea."

"Aw, what's the harm in it, baby? They just want match. I think it'd be fun!"

He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head.

"Please, Jo?"

Mikey's puppy dog eyes were enough to push the man over the edge. It had taken months, but Mikey had finally come fully out of his shell, thanks to a patient older brother and a highly skilled child therapist. Even so, Rachel could see that Jo still felt for the kid and would probably grant any request he made for at least another six months.

"Fine," he conceded with a tired smile. "Go get the razor."

The boys were off like a flash.

"Maybe I'll join the solidarity movement and shave my head too," Rachel joked.

Jo's eyes widened in shock.

"No!" he blurted out, before catching himself. "I mean, you can do whatever you want, but..." he gaped at her.

"But what?" she asked innocently.

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

"I just...really like your long hair," he mumbled.

She couldn't help the giggle that burst out of her and he glanced up, embarrassed.

"Joking?" he asked sheepishly.

"I mean, I just want to show my support..." she said with a playful grin.

His lips quirked up as he reached out to twirl a lock of her golden hair between his fingers.

"Then come give me a kiss," he whispered.

The shock of his request slowed down her reaction time, and Jo seemed to mistake her hesitation for reluctance. The self doubt that sprung into his eyes was enough to spur her forward.

She planted her lips on his and felt him shudder at the contact.

He was an unexperienced kisser, so she took the lead, careful to go slow and allow him time to adapt. He let out a small moan and she was overwhelmed by an aching need for him to be closer. She reached up and-

"Ewwww!"

"Gross!"

"Nooooo!"

It was the second interruption of the day, and Rachel briefly considered throwing her cast iron skillet at the little ingrates, before the hilarity of the situation caught up with her. She laughed as Jo's cheeks turned crimson.

"What?! Am I not allowed to kiss my boyfriend?"

"Come on! There are children here!" Drew groaned, though his eyes danced with elation.

Good-natured banter filled the kitchen as Jo was seated on a bar stool and the cutting commenced. As the last bit of hair was shaved off, Jo's image of an emaciated cancer patient was complete. Even so, Rachel found herself wanting to kiss him all over again.

Their eyes met in the small mirror Sam had propped on the table. He smiled at her self-consciously.

"You sure you still want me?"

He said it as a joke, but she heard his unspoken meaning.

She smiled back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and placing a kiss on his smooth scalp.

"More than you'll ever know."