Work Text:
"Babe, have you seen my shaving kit?" Walking out of their shared bathroom and wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips, Jake stepped into the living room, leaving wet footprints behind himself, and stopped in his tracks immediately. There was a woman sitting on the couch, her red hair wet from being outside, if he were to judge by snowflakes melting in it. She was holding his favourite mug with something steaming hot in it, and what was even worse, was staring at him like it was Jake who was intruding and didn't actually belong. The hell?
Jake raised his eyebrow in confusion and looked her up and down again, trying to figure out if he were supposed to know her and then whipped his head around to cautiously look for his girlfriend. The moment stilled in weirdness, and Muller barely put a leg back, getting leverage, ready to get physical if the situation grew dire. He had already seen a great deal of super-powered women in his short but fruitful life, he wasn't taking any chances.
How absurd it all could get sometimes. A minute ago he was taking his well-deserved shower after dealing with a mountain of dishes left by Sherry's annual attempt to bake an apple pie, and now was standing half-naked in front of a random stranger. Where the hell was Sherry? Was she even OK? He knew she would take a lot more than a skinny, wimpy redhead to break, but couldn't help but worry. That's what love does to you, God.
The woman got up from her place, slowly putting his mug down on the table, glass quietly clinking. She squinted at him, probably sizing him up, and so Jake stood straighter, shoulders broadened. He glanced to the side again, just for a second, in case Sherry appeared right beside him, unharmed, ever-sweet, and ready to explain what's going on. But there was no one, just him and the woman, and paranoia gnawing at him like it shouldn't have.
"Who are you?" The woman then said, a hand on her hip, but stance far from relaxed. Jake huffed.
"Ladies first," he pointed at her with his chin. And as she barely opened her mouth to say something, she swiftly turned her head to the side, and Jake instinctively did the same. From the corridor appeared Sherry, confused, suddenly getting pale from embarrassment. She hurried to Jake's side and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him closer and leaning in herself.
"Sorry, forgot to warn you," she whispered, then turned to the woman, "Jake, this is Claire. And Claire, this is Jake." She pointed at his half-naked frame. "My boyfriend."
Upon hearing that, the woman instantly lit up and relaxed, smiling widely, "Oh! Wasn't aware! Sorry, Jake, I thought you were an intruder."
She then stretched her hand out, and Jake slowly shook it, looking down at himself for a second, before raising his confused, forced-smiling gaze at her and squeezing her hand respectfully. An intruder? Seriously? When he's half-naked, and barely dried, and walking out of the bathroom asking about his shaving kit? An intruder!? Calling out for his 'babe'!? He frowned and barely opened his mouth before Sherry asked Claire to wait for them and then rushed Jake out of the living room with a stern look on her features.
"Jake, a word." She tugged him back into the corridor and made him follow her to their bedroom.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind them and Jake threw his towel on the bed before shaking up to let water drops fly off his broad shoulders. He then bent over, pulling the drawer out to look for a new pair of boxers. He could hear Sherry pressing her back against the door and sliding down a little, defeated. He quickly glanced behind himself: Sherry was looking at his bare ass.
"Didn't you say she was coming on Christmas!?" He whispered loudly. Not with anger nor disappointment, just— confusion.
"Well, the circumstances changed. Her Airbnb scammed her, she's staying the night." Sherry sighed and hung her head low. Jake shook his head, slipping into his boxers.
"Great. Now I walked right into your mum's face half-naked. Thanks for the heads up, babe."
"Wha- Jake! What do you mean mom? Claire is not my mom!" She whispered, snapping her head up. Jake just shrugged and stretched his t-shirt out.
"Aha. Right." His voice came out muffled, face hidden behind soft fabric he was pulling on. "Have you seen my pants?"
"I've put them in the second drawer."
The drawer slid out with a quiet sound, and there they were, his clean home wear neatly folded on top of the outdoor clothing. Jake clicked his tongue, then took the pants out, and shook them in the air.
"I myself didn't know. It was an emergency, she called asking and I offered." Sherry said quietly, pushing her hands down the pockets of her pyjama pants. "You were in the shower, I couldn't warn you."
"You should've. You know I don't close the door when I'm over, you can always walk in." And then he added, in a wishful whisper, "It's always appreciated."
But then he froze. "Sherry. I never close the door, what if she walked in on me!? With all my stuff out! Way to make a first impression, goddammit."
Sherry's face went pale and any hint of a smile disappeared, as her expression dropped and she looked at him, shocked. The silence fell over them, disrupted by the drawer being slid shut. Jake leaned forward, pressing his palms against the sturdy dark wood.
"So what do I call her? Miss Redfield, or something?"
"I think just Claire will suffice. For God's sake, Jake, just be yourself."
He scoffed. "I don't think the Redfields generally like my 'self'."
The place grew quiet. The drawer creaked as the weight shifted forward, and as silence kept growing Jake's movements stilled as well. He stood there, glancing at Sherry over his shoulder, at her still frame propping up the door, at her crossed arms, at her unreadable eyes, and soft creak of her eyebrows, at the way the light from the ceiling fell over her blonde hair, colouring it a perfect, soft shade.
Slowly turning his head away, hanging it lower, and accepting defeat, Jake pushed himself off the chest and straightened, hiding his palms in his pockets. Now he looked utterly defenceless, having turned his back to her, not brave enough to slip into his usual stoic and cheeky manner. Exhaling softly, he tapped his foot several times and then spun around to finally get it over with—
"I love you."
—and got attacked by Sherry's firm hug squeezing him as hard as it was possible.
"H-hey," he gasped, surprised, "I love you too, super girl."
His hands slid up her back and held her closer, all until she raised her head and propped her chin on his chest, looking up at him at an uncomfortable angle that sure made her look cute as hell.
"Quit saying stuff like that, Jake. I'm serious." Smiled Sherry with a slight sadness to it. "I don't care if anybody doesn't like you. I love you. And once they know you, they will as well."
Clicking his tongue, Jake shook his head just a little bit, and stared back at her with a sarcastic expression, his eyes growing softer despite his intentions, as if he didn't want to believe her, but somehow, strangely, couldn't disagree at all. That's what Sherry did to him. Made him softer, made him believe in stuff that seemed impossible.
He decided not to nod, not to smile, not to agree or shake his head. Barely even shrugged. Just pulled out of her hold, slipped his hands off her shoulders lovingly, and walked in the direction of the living room, back to Claire's sitting there. Sherry followed suit, grabbing the towel left forgotten on their bed to bring it back to the bathroom. Jake's hair were still a tad bit wet, and water from his footprints still glimmered on the floor.
"Sherry baked an apple pie earlier, I'm sure she wouldn't mind sharing," Jake announced, walking into the room and planting himself on an armchair. He turned his head to look at Redfield, squinting a little when noticing she still sipped her whatever that was from his mug, "I can call you Claire, right?"
She nodded. "Jake, am I right?"
"Got it all right." He answered, stretching words, gave her thumbs up, and then slapped his thighs, "Jake Muller, nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too…" Claire mused a little, and then snapped her head up, practically spilling her drink as she slammed the mug down on the coffee table. Jake cringed as the glass clinked on impact. That's his favourite cup, with wild flowerfields printed all over, the one he bought in Germany. Claire's eyes widened as she opened her mouth, "Wait. Muller? That Muller? Wesker's son!?"
Loudly exhaling, he slipped down the back of the armchair and covered his face with his hands, mumbling a quiet "here we go again…" under his breath. Jake looked at her through the gap in his fingers and frowned more at her excited face.
"I've gotta thank you. For letting them make the vaccine."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Alright…I guess?"
"You saved so many lives, and with research they can do even more! In this field you simply must be proactive." She was now facing him, slumping forward, having put her elbows on her knees, now holding her face with her hands, while eyes kept glancing all over him.
The praise, unnerving as it was, forced some sort of shyness creeping onto him, and Jake sat upright and shook his head, glancing to the side.
"It was all Sherry. Say thanks to her."
Claire bit her lip, thinking. "That's how you two met, right?" She guessed, looking at him through a little frown.
Jake nodded, agreeing.
"Yup. Saved my ass back there; changed my life, if I'm being honest." He sighed dreamily, and looked in the direction of the corridor. Sherry must walk through any second now.
"Chris told me about you, just a bit ." Claire leaned forward a little and, having put the mug down, rested her forearms oh her knees. Then she smiled, "Made it sound like you were a gentleman."
Small puff of laughter escaped him. He tilted his head, and looked at her with raised eyebrows, unbelieving.
"Oh how chivalrous," he said, and then added in whispers, "weird you heard from that dude before my actual girlfriend, though."
Claire closed her eyes with a smile and nodded, biting her cheek. Jake leaned backwards, ran his hand along the lines of the upholstery. The velvety fabric darkened under his dragging touch.
"What else he said? Mentioned killing my daddy dearest, I suppose?" He got up instinctively and went for another mug. He needed to busy himself with something.
Following his walking, Claire moved her gaze along.
"Actually, no… but I'm aware, I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He rolled his neck and waved his hand dismissively. Cold water poured into a kettle with a loud noise and then Jake clicked the metal lid back on, putting the kettle onto its base. It lit up with the tiny blue glow, and Jake nodded in Claire's direction, "You want some?"
"Yes, please." She walked over and put the mug closer to Jake's hands on the counter, and then stood to his left, leaning on the counter and thumbing at the glossy beige surface. Jake glared at his mug with a wet teabag inside and shook his head slightly, pulling out two new ones. Pretty blueish mugs, Sherry's choice.
He raised his head to look out in the corridor, trying to see if Sherry was coming, but could only notice the light from their closet's direction.
"Babe, tea?" He yelled, cringing instantly and side eyeing Claire for a moment with chills running down his spine, checking her reaction. But Claire seemed to be fine. Not batting an eye at the pet name.
"Yeah, thanks! Make me the one that I bought yesterday!"
"'Kay!"
The kettle clicked, boiling, and Jake brought the tea bag roster closer and pushed it in Claire's direction after plucking two green packets out of it. "There's black tea, green tea, and I bought some herbal… don't know which one you like."
"Mhm, thanks," Claire leaned over and dug in, flipping through tea packets and biting her lip in concentration. "Let's try this one…"
"I've got you some clothes I think will fit…" Sherry walked in, carrying a bunch of clothes and quilts in her arms. "And bedding. I'll make you bed on the couch, hope you don't mind."
She put what she was carrying on the armchair and then plopped down on the couch. Leaning on her boyfriend's side, Sherry stretched her legs and looked up at Claire, who was sipping tea from Jake's mug.
"So… how come you're in the area?" She asked. Jake's arm crawled over her shoulder and she squeezed his fingers, bringing them closer to heart.
Claire shrugged, "Work, mostly. TerraSave wanted me here for a conference tomorrow's evening, so… yeah. I had a room ready, but they tapped out the very last moment, and, honestly? Fuck them. Thanks for taking me in today, really. If it weren't for you, I'd have to start searching for a motel."
"That's nothing, really," Sherry smiled. "I'm happy to see you anytime."
Jake snuggled closer and squeezed Sherry's hand tighter.
"Tea's getting cold," he whispered in her ear.
She lightened up, "Oh! Right, thank you." Then she looked at Claire, "Which one did you choose? You should try this one, it's really good! Something-something morning dew."
Time kept going on, the weather outside calmed down. Nothing was left out of the snow flurry which caught Claire up, not a single snowflake falling, not a single gush of wind messing up the perfect snowy arrangement. A week was left until Christmas.
In Sherry's flat there was nothing but serenity, women sitting and chatting, a man keeping to himself, only getting up to get the kettle going or cut the pie. What Jake was thinking about, probably, wouldn't be much of a guesswork, since he kept staring solemnly at his feet or Sherry's fingers, sometimes disappearing into the corridor, leaving Claire and his girlfriend on their own, just to busy himself with something. He wasn't uncomfortable per se, barely even weirded out. Mostly he was thinking too much for his own good.
One thing that existed in his and Sherry's relationship was this quiet pleasure in not needing to impress anyone's parents, seek their acceptance, or having to share activities with them out of necessity for being liked. Jake was left on his own quite young, so this nervous feeling of being lesser in his own romance always clinged to his back without letting go. Being perfectly honest, he hated feeling lesser to someone, so, when they got together with Sherry, he was secretly pleased that both of them were orphans in some way, so the parents' meeting embarrassment would be far, far away, out of reach.
But he had gravely misunderstood Sherry's relationship with her Raccoon saviours. He knew a great deal about her upbringing, especially the isolation and that bastard's cutting Claire out of the deal, so it had actually surprised him when he realised that his idealistic dreaming of "no-relatives-present-so-no-sweating-over-impressing-a-bunch-of-people" had gone downhill. First it was the constant Leon mentioning, then the Claire memories came up.
And he was happy with that. Sherry had a family, whether she wanted to admit it or not. A good family at that. Sadly, to him, it was a lot of new work he was actually willing to take upon himself. Go impress mom Claire, go deal with dad Leon, go act nice to his girlfriend's uncle Chris, who was her dad's boyfriend at the same time, damn confusing.
Maybe it made him a bad person. Wishing loneliness upon the one he loves. But it gnawed on him on the inside. Maybe that was jealousy, maybe something else.
If he were to come clean, it wouldn't be about hard work that was worth it. It would come down to how lonely he actually felt every single time people around mentioned someone at home, someone waiting for them to come back. All at the same time when he had no one to look forward to.
Now he had Sherry, his shining light, and how anxious he was when she mentioned anyone. He was sure in her, but how could he truly believe that if everyone hated him and pressed Sherry to break up with a fuck up that Muller could never not be, she wouldn't give in one day? He wouldn't even blame her, honestly. He had it in his blood, probably. A bit of crazy running through his veins. A pinch of his father's evilness and ego. Holy shit.
Jake pushed the drawer closed again. He didn't even notice he was standing there, tormenting the poor drawer for minutes before snapping out of it and remembering why he even came there. If he remembered correctly, he had this party game stashed somewhere in his things. Maybe he had left it over at his place, but he was sure he took it with him, he vividly remembered putting it in his bag before getting out, strapping his stuff to his bike, and driving over to his girlfriend's flat. He wanted to give it a try, so he surely must've taken it with him.
He let go of the drawer and walked over to their bed, getting down on his knees and reaching under the bed frame to pull out his open duffel bad and look inside. Between several wrapped up basic necessities and a change of field clothes laid a red box with a bunch of cards inside. It was still wrapped in plastic, since he never even peeked inside.
"Here you are," he said, pleased, and pushed the bag back under the bed.
"That's my prodigal boyfriend," Sherry giggled when he walked back into the living room, bringing the red box with him. "What's that?"
"A board game." He waved it in the air before sitting down next to Sherry and giving the box to her. She looked it over and read the description on the backside.
"Oh, it's Alias. Or something like that, I suppose. Travel edition it says." She then gave it over to Claire, who also spun it around and weighted it up in her hands.
Jake reached forward to his forgotten pie slice and took a chunk of it with a fork before bringing it to his mouth. He nodded, chewing,
"It was quite popular in the barracks. But I've never played it in English before, to be honest."
"It's never late to start," Sherry smiled and picked on the edge of the plastic wrapper, carefully tearing it apart. The box's lid slid up with a pull.
She gave the box to Jake as she opened up the manual and glanced over it, "Do you want to count points the normal way and play in teams, or just write down the number of words guessed? Because I don't think I want to go all in tonight."
"Afraid of a little challenge?" Claire remarked from her place on the couch, smiling.
Sherry shook her head a little, putting the rules down. "No. I just have to get up early tomorrow, so… Not sure we'll know when to stop if we start competing."
Having unwrapped the cards, Jake was now shuffling them, looking some of them over. Nothing too difficult, nothing too easy. A perfect mix.
"Do I deal them?" He asked.
"Nope, just put them where we all can reach," Claire answered, getting up from her place and walking over to the armchair to sit right across the couple. The bedding was now on the edge of the armchair armrest.
Jake put the small hourglass in the middle of the coffee table, waiting for all the sand to slide down. "Let's not count anything then, just have fun. Leave it for the next time."
"Agreed," added Sherry, "so one person explains, and everybody guesses. That's fair. Who starts?"
"Usually the youngest," Claire said, smiling and sliding the deck towards Jake. He rolled his shoulders and took the first card as the hourglass was flipped upside down.
Round after round, the game went on, and the way his and Sherry's minds seemed to align couldn't not make Jake proud. Sherry was agitated, clinging to his arm as she explained the last word on her card, time already run out, and looked up at her boyfriend with so much hope in her eyes, he felt disgustingly worthless, since he had no damn idea what she was even explaining.
"Come one now! That's so easy!" She pleaded once more and then let go, making a disappointed face. She slumped back on the couch and looked at Claire, who also was confused as hell. "Claire. Please. The act of holding a city hostage, c'mon!"
Claire raised her palms in thinking. "I don't know? Siege? Maybe?"
"Yes! Thank god! Oh my god, was it that difficult? Jake?"
"Don't look at me like that! How the hell am I supposed to know it? Should I remind you I come from Edonia!?" He pointed at himself defensively. How was he supposed to know this stupid word? He used to be a mercenary, not an english speaking city-sieging soldier! And if she wanted to be petty, he could bring up the vocabulary definition of the word and then act gullible and tell Sherry she was bad at explaining.
She wasn't, usually, but he was insulted. He sighed and drank his cold tea. It was Claire's turn, and the card deck went to her.
Claire picked out the card blindly and touched the hourglass on the table. She raised her eyes on the couple, "Ready?"
"A-ha." Both of them nodded, and she spun the timer.
"Alright. An easy one." She took a breath. "The main people at the company are called what?"
"President?" Jake offered.
"CEO?" Sherry added.
"No, no. They also sit." Claire emphasised. "They are in charge of decisions."
Sherry snapped her fingers. "Chairman!"
"Right!" Claire nodded, and went on, "Your relatives that were before you."
"Ancestors."
"Yup, now antonym for water."
"What?" Jake mumbled, confusion spreading all over his face as he opened his mouth, trying to think. Hell she meant antonym for water? "It's like fire, or something?"
"Yes! Now imagine you're reading a poem. And the author writes some metaphors and doesn't say anything outright. How is it called?"
Sherry and Jake quieted, looking at each other for a second. "Metaphors?"
"Obviously not, I just said it."
"Uhm… literary devices." But Claire shook her head. So Jake tried again, shaking his head, pulling out words from the deep parts of his mind. "Symbols? Epitomes? I-I don't know—"
"Go back, back, the first one!"
"Symbols?"
"Yes! And now make it longer. Like a type of art, maybe."
"Sym… bolica? Symbolism?"
"Yes! Good one." She showed him thumbs up and went on, having glanced at the hourglass. She was slowly, but surely running out of time. "A very thin branch. No leaves, nothing, just a thin, small branch."
Sherry sipped her tea, and raised her finger, and offered, "A twig."
"Mhm, and the last one. The thing for students to read."
The silence fell over them, as the couple stared at her without a thought behind their eyes. Claire still smiled and placed her card down.
"So?" But the two kept silent.
Then Sherry looked to the side, then back at Claire. "…Syllabus?"
"…No?" Claire raised her eyebrow confusedly. "It's not that hard."
"Curriculum documents?"
"Are you kidding me right now?"
The tone of her voice has grown cold and she glared at them like they were little kids who had gotten another maths problem wrong, and when they showed no signs of messing with her, she grimaced and leaned back, crossing her arms on her chest.
"Alright. We're not finishing until you tell me this word."
Twiddling his thumbs, Jake started thinking, but his brain felt empty. This was embarrassing. He was so sure that the word was plain simple, but he couldn't remember anything that would fit.
"Alright." Claire said, nodding her head condescendingly several times. "What is that that you can read?"
"A pamphlet?" Claire slowly shook her head, staring Sherry down. "An article? A… newspaper?"
With an exhausted groan, Claire slumped forward and hid her face behind her hands. She audibly whined like Sherry's guesses were genuinely breaking her heart, and shook her shoulders in fake crying. And Jake felt laughter creeping up his throat, so he pressed his lips tightly, trying to calm himself down. A snicker left his mouth, so he took a breath and started looking in another direction.
"This can't be happening." Claire sighed. "Alright. No-no, you're guessing it. Just so you realise how dumb this is."
She looked right at Jake, and she was so stern with her expression, he couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing and leaned forward, hiding his face and trying to stop. But he heard Sherry snickering by his side, so he raised his head to look at Claire, smiling despite the stupidity of the moment. Redfield shook her head in fake disapproval and crossed her legs.
"Alright. Let's go word by word. Imagine I have my phone," she mimicked pulling out a mobile phone and started texting, "and so I say, hey, let me send you a… a what?"
"An SMS?"
"A message?" They offered simultaneously, trying to get serious.
"Nope. Try again. I have a pen, I'm writing a..?"
"Essay. Report?"
"No! The most basic thing! What can you write?"
"Letter?"
"Oh shut up. You're just messing with me." Claire gave up on questioning Sherry and now turned all her attention to Jake. "C'mon, man. You must know."
Jake waved his hands, "Oh, no, no. I'm hopeless."
"Let's say another word. What can you read? Like a fairytale, or a novel. A published thing, a printed out physical copy. How do we call that?"
"A book..?"
Claire threw her hands up in the air, "Thank god! Thank you. Yes. It's the second part of the word. Now, what can students read to get information?"
"Workbooks, student's books."
Claire was ready to cry. "A synonym."
"I don't know! I don't!" Jake cried out in exhaustion. Stop with the fucking word — he was tired of that game, of that dumb word, of it all. Claire looked equally as wrecked, all because of the damn party game. They are never playing that bullshit thing ever again. Honestly, Jake better burn the box right now. And only Sherry was still giggling to her heart's content, clinging to the armrest and trying to catch her breath.
"There is even this phrase! To do something exactly as instructed, to do it by a this word! It can't be that hard!"
Suddenly Sherry straightened and started laughing harder, grabbing Jake by his hand, trying to stabilise herself, catching her breath.
"Oh my god." She wheezed, "Oh my god! Is it a textbook!?"
Claire all but jumped out of her seat. She instantly got up from her place and shook her fists in the air before clasping them together, just like in a prayer.
"Finally!" She practically roared, soon after groaning loudly and nearly crying. "How hard can it be!? To guess a fucking textbook!? I hate you, both of you. Oh my god, I hate you."
She plopped down back on the armchair, extra bedding finally falling on the floor from the armrest and her leg accidentally kicking a coffee table. And amidst their explosive laughter, sudden shattering of glass sounded louder than the universe.
Jake's favourite German mug finally slipped from the corner of the coffee table and met hard flooring in its last kiss. White glass broke into several large chunks, the flowerfields turned into a battered mess that had no serenity or order. The souvenir was now totally, fully gone.
They all stilled, and Claire bit her lip before turning towards the couple, whispering an honest apology, but she froze, noticing Jake's distraught face.
His mouth hung open, eyebrows raised in a broken expression, and eyes glimmering. Surely he won't weep over broken glass, but that was his favourite mug. He bought in Germany on his mum's birthdate. It was important. Not the damn mug, not the fields, not even Germany. All that made sense was the meaning he put behind it, a way to remember his late mum with every cup of tea and coffee he made. A mug for him, just for him.
And now it was gone, shattered on the floor in an accident, lost to time. Being there no more, another memory, another cherished thing slipping through his fingers.
"That was my favourite mug," he said barely above whispering and got up from his place, now adding louder, more stoic than he could, "Don't touch it. I'll bring a broom."
His voice cracked the smallest bit when saying the last word, turned into a little hiccup, and he went in the direction of the closet, getting away, giving himself just a second to compose himself.
No use crying over the broken glass, he thought to himself, yet, still, he squeezed his eyes shut to stop a random and unwelcome tear from falling down his cheek. He wasn't even sure why a simple mug made his so emotional. It was just a mug, nothing special.
It was an accident. Nobody's fault.
This fucking game is getting thrown in the trash first thing in the morning.
He swept the shards carefully, all in dead silence, since nobody dared to say a word. He walked over to the bin and threw them in there, hoping they don't cut the plastic bag. And only when he returned to the couch, Claire finally looked at him with remorse written all over her features.
"I'm so sorry. I can buy you another one, or even the same."
Jake shook his head.
"Don't bother. It was a souvenir from Europe, you won't find it here."
"Still," she gulped, "I can try to. I go to Europe often, I can look for it. If I knew it was your personal mug, I wouldn't have touched it, I'm so sorry, truly, I didn't mean to—"
"Claire." He said sternly. "It's just a mug. It doesn't matter. It's just a mug."
They didn't sit long after that. Jake helped Sherry make Claire's bed while she was in the shower, and then strategically decided to hide in their bedroom until everybody deals with what they need to. Dim light from Sherry's nightstand illuminated the room just enough for him to scroll through the calendar on his phone and not strain his eyes. He had the whole week until the New Year cleared and was hoping nothing sudden comes up, since he had already made plans to stay with Sherry throughout holidays, and go risk his ass out there some other time.
Soon the door handle clicked, and Sherry, yawning, walked inside, heading straight for the bed. Pulling on the nightlight's string, she turned it off, and crawled under the covers closer to Jake.
"You're still working tomorrow?" He asked throwing his arm over her form and letting her lay her head on his shoulder.
"Yup," she answered simply, "you're still at home?"
"Right now, yes. Don't have any new intel. As soon as I hit something good, I'm going."
"Be careful."
Jake huffed out a little laugh.
"Oh, you know me. I'm built like a tank. Can't kill me easy." His fingers squeezed her soft shoulder and then rubbed the spot in circles.
"Oh my god, Jake, just don't die, okay? We still have to celebrate Christmas. This one and all those after."
"I see you're making plans already?" He smiled at her, even if she could not see it, and then sighed. "Fine. I'll try."
"Please do. I have lots of things I'd like to do together." Her finger drew a circle on the bare skin of his toned chest. It was littered with small and pale scars.
"Well, I'm not sure your mum liked me that much, honey, so… we'll see."
"Jake. Stop calling Claire my mom, I'm serious. I had a mom, not anymore." And then she added in a whisper, furrowing her eyebrows, "Claire is just… Claire. Even if she were there for me, it's still…" 'Different'.
Jake didn't answer, his mind already set on the family dynamic attributed to everyone around Sherry, and, honestly, this was the least of Sherry's concern. She rose on her elbows and looked at her boyfriend's fakely blithe face.
"And stop with yours 'they ain't gonna like me'. You act like a kid, you know that?" Jake scoffed and looked away with a frown on his face. "Who cares what others think? I love you, I want to see you in my life, in my apartment. I wasn't you to be in my house on Christmas, I want you to have your things there. I want to see you in the morning, I want to brew you coffee and I want to go to bed with you. It's up to you and me, not other people."
"It's so easy when you say it, Sherry."
"And is it not?"
Jake bit his tongue, looking to the side. An uncomfortable swirl of emotion in his chest rose once more, poisoned his mood, and saddened his girl. Way to go, Muller. They'd be right about leaving you behind, you're the greatest boyfriend material. An insecure little whiny man.
He gulped before opening his mouth.
"It's just… you don't have to worry about impressing my folks. About meeting my family and fitting in. It' way easier when you don't have to fight them on behalf of your lover. I don't have to defend you, you don't have to impress anybody. Simple and easy." He paused for a moment. "But you have these people, who raised you, who care about you. They are your family, Sherry. And before I say anything else, I'm so glad you have them, so happy for you, because you deserve a real family, but if these people start nagging you about me, if I'm not somebody they approve of… I just don't want to ruin your life."
A fast, rapid inhale to hide the tone of his voice. He could feel Sherry's gaze burning a hole through his cheek.
"…why do you think you're going to ruin my life?"
Jake stayed silent for a second, mulling over about it in his mind. In the end, he settled on a, "I don't know. I just do."
They sat quietly for some time. Sherry didn't move, only breathed steadily, waiting for Jake to continue. And he was so, so scared to look at her face, already knowing the expression she was making. Her eyebrows brought together just a bit until a small creak formed on her forehead, her eyes pensive, lips thinned in worry. His heart cracked from a single thought about that face, that hurt, thinking face, his knowing it was all his fault, purely because he was too selfish and jealous of what she had with those people to let go and act as a normal man for once.
He took a deep breath.
"I am not a good man, Sherry. I am, well, violent, and crass, and I don't even know what you see in me. I have done things. They have consequences."
"I also have done things."
"Not the same things, Sherry."
"No. Not the same." She said plainly. "But my hands are also not clean, Jake. And I take responsibility for my actions."
"So do I, Sherry. And guess what? I can't fix shit. I can't change my past. I can't do anything."
"Taking responsibility isn't just realising you've done bad things. Sometimes it's recognising that some things just happen. And letting them go. Looking forward."
With that she leaned in and left the softest kiss on his scarred cheek, sliding her hand down his chest and reaching for his left palm to take it in hers.
"I love you. The you you're becoming with every new day when you decide for yourself, Jake. And let me love you. All of you."