Dallas 1. In the Doorway

Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise specified) belong to David Jacobs, Lorimar, CBS, et al and appear here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.  
Rating: PG 17, for language and sexual content.  
Spoiler: Everything through the end of Season 5, though I've played with the canon for "Hell Hath No Fury."  
Summary: Just a short story on Sue Ellen's thoughts as she stands in the doorway of Holly Harwood's bedroom.  
A/N: Dedicated to my amazing and supportive sister, Megan. xo  
_**NOTE: This chapter is RATED ADULT for sexual content.**_

* * *

The sleek Mercedes purred to a stop and I turned off the ignition. The large mansion in front of me glowed from within, seemingly welcoming me. Welcoming me. Narrowing my eyes, I wondered briefly if Holly Harwood was a sadist. _Probably_.

The wind rustled my hair carried the faint scent of burning wood as I walked up to the front door. Cold clung to me and I shivered, pressing down on the handle and entering the warm house. The light caught on the teardrop crystals hanging from the chandelier in the foyer and danced merrily on the wall.

Stopping directly underneath the light fixture, I waited. My eyes moved over the entranceway and the sitting room to my right. There's no movement in the room and my gaze shifted to the carpet lined staircase. It's wide and inviting. Taunting even, as I contemplated following it upstairs. The almost comforting silence is shattered by the sound of a shriek. A woman's shriek. _Not one of terror_. I eyed the stairs again.

I placed by hand gingerly on the banister, the warmth from the dark wood soothed the icy nature of my fingers. The railing is sturdy. Strong. I gripped it tighter as my feet seemed to move with a mind of their own. Another shriek, followed by a muffled giggle and a soft thud. _Does she make you feel the way I do? Does she-_

My hand on the banister twitched as my other hand flew to my mouth. The muscles of my stomach contracted and I shook my head. _No, not until I know for sure_.

I reached the top of the stairs, feeling like a mountain climber reaching the highest peak. But there's no victory. No exultation. Glancing behind me to the front door, it stood partly open. _I could leave. Go home. Ignore the ravings of the psychotic bitch and pretend I never ran into her_. I half turned when a deep laugh flew down the hallway, teasing my ears with its familiarity. My eyes squeezed shut, as if that could block out his rumbling chuckle. The one I claimed as belonging only to me. The one I fell in love with.

Now it's all around me. Bouncing off the walls and floors, where it shocked my heart and the core of my soul. It echoed in my ears, as every intimate moment between us flashed before my eyes as I followed the sound down the hall.

The pounding in my chest increased as I approached the door. A beam of golden light shined underneath the door, mocking the darkness of the hallway. And the darkness that slowly seeped into my heart.

Without warning, they rang out. The telltale and rhythmic squeaks of the bed. Strong and steady, like the banister that shouldered my burdens a moment ago. They came fast and furious now, as if the end of the world was around the corner and this was all they'd ever have. _And maybe it is_.

The iron taste burned my mouth and shocked me out of my stupor. I touched my lip, feeling the sticky wetness and licked it away. _When did I bite my lip? _My other hand fingered the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open slightly.

Golden light curled around the door and I blinked as it hit me. My vision adjusted and I beheld my husband moving eagerly over her. I winced as they panted in unison, her fingernails scratching angry red trails on his back. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling and she moaned loudly as his mouth found her breast.

I raised my hand to my chest, feeling the harsh beat of my heart beneath my ribs. The pounding of their bodies together synchronized with my pounding heart and the shortness of my breath. A thousand and one high-pitched sirens pierced my eardrums, blocking out their heavy breathing. White-hot pain smashed into my face as the blood drained out of it and I slumped against the doorjamb.

He grabbed her from where she laid on the mattress, forcing her to sit up against the headboard as he braced his hands on either side of her. His head found the hollow of her neck as he turned into it. Her hands wrapped possessively around his neck and she tightened her legs around his waist as he continued to thrust into her.

Looking over his shoulder, her eyes sought me out behind the narrow crack in the door. Her face hardened and her eyes blazed as she pressed her hand to the back of his head. Smug satisfaction washed across her face as she smiled cruelly at me. She moaned his name loudly as I turned from the door and fled down the hallway. Their fevered screams followed me down the staircase and across the foyer. The glass door slammed shut, protecting me from the sounds of their climax.

The Mercedes is quiet and warm, a haven from the horror of her house. The leather headrest cocooned my head as I rested against it. Tears burn behind my eyelids, though the pain is nothing new. My hands automatically start the engine and I grip the smooth steering wheel. Slamming into reverse, I back out and the tires squeal as I head down the long driveway. The bright lights of the house faded in the rearview mirror. _Just like all my hopes that things would be different this time_.

"One man, and one man alone, has known that Mrs. Ewing," he had bragged to his brother at a barbeque long since past.

_Can I say the same thing about you? That one woman, and one woman alone, has known you? _My grip tightens on the wheel. "No," I said aloud.

But no one answered me and the silence began to overwhelm my being. The pressure weighed down on my chest as I contemplated where to go. Up ahead the road would split and take me in two different directions. The road on the right would lead to Braddock and Southfork. The road on the left would take me into downtown Dallas and the stores that would sell me the liquor that would dull the hurt.

I flicked on the right turn switch. Memories of them in bed, moaning together slammed into my consciousness. The bitter anger glinted in her eyes as his lips fondled the side of her neck. The new pain stabbed my heart and I jerked the wheel hard to the left, ignoring the blaring horn of the car I cut off.


	2. A Hell of Heaven

**_NOTE: This was originally listed as an individual story/a sequel to the first chapter and was uploaded in June 2005. I don't know if I'll ever continue it, but the two chapters work better as one story than two separate ones. _**

(See first part for disclaimer, notes spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 2: "A Hell of Heaven"

_The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven_. - John Milton

Night clung to Dallas as I drove through the downtown streets slowly, the haste of earlier exchanged for the promise of relief. Eyeing the buildings on either side of me, I pulled the Mercedes into the first available spot I saw.

The air here is warmer, pulsing with the energy of the nightlife and the throngs of people on the sidewalk. I forced half a dozen coins into the parking meter and turned my back on the car. Animated conversations and occasional laughter surrounded me as I set off down the sidewalk. Inviting light and noise spilled out from the restaurants, but I bypassed them all and instead turned down one of the narrow side streets.

The hustle of the street faded away as I continued to walk, the heels of my shoes clicking on the concrete. Streetlights are rare here, golden pools that I passed through sporadically until I saw it. A dark façade, the only brightness came from the nearly burnt out neon sign advertising its merchandise. Beer never quite did it for me. It took too long to take effect and even then, I could still feel the hurt trickling out from my heart in stinging waves and washing over my body.

The wooden door is heavy as I pulled it open and stepped inside. The darkness from the street doesn't compare to the interior and my eyes rapidly adjusted to the change. I glanced around quickly but the bar is nearly empty and no one looked back at me, too concerned with wallowing in their own misery. Perfect. The only source of light it seemed came from the illuminated wall behind the counter and I made my way to it with a purpose.

A silver mist hung in the air, the cigarette smoke stinging my eyes as I slid onto the stool. It wobbled slightly but settled as I pulled my purse off my shoulder and laid it on the surface in front of me. The light in the bar may have been dim, but it stilled managed to get caught on the opulent diamond of my left hand. It flashed at me before I twisted the ring and tucked the stone into my palm.

"What can I get you darlin'?"

Darlin'. Only JR called me that. That term of affection always rolled so easily off his lips in that deep drawl that was his alone. Too easily. He called every woman "darlin'."

I raised my eyes and folded my hands over my purse. "Vodka rocks."

The bartender's head bobbed once before he reached under the counter for a glass. He sat the thick bottomed tumbler on top of a square cocktail napkin. The ice cubes clinked together as they hit the sides and bottom. The sound of the liquor splashing against the ice was soothing and I watched as they floated to the surface. He pushed the drink to me and turned away to service another patron.

I stared down at the drink. The vodka swirled lazily in the glass before it settled into stillness. My hand inched off the purse and closer to the glass. The quiet sounds of the bar faded away as my eyes zeroed in on the full glass in front of me. Like the diamond before it, the glass caught the light and it winked.

My index finger traced over the rim several times before I wrapped my fingers around the body of the glass. It fit perfectly in my palm, the warmth of my skin molding to the cold of the smooth glass. My left hand balled into a loose fist as my mouth grew dry. I licked my lips anxiously, my tongue finding the fresh cut from earlier. It doesn't compare to the cut in my heart.

JR.

It vaguely registered in my mind that this situation was not new. Seems that he's made it his mission in life to be as unfaithful to me as he can. Countless women have enjoyed the company of my husband. And each time, the pain crushed my heart…though it was never as bad as it was the time before. When did that happen? When did the pain become second nature?

And yet, he always comes back to me. When he's done fucking his latest whore, it's my bed he returned to. My back he pressed up against and it's the back of my neck that he kissed, brushing my hair away with gentle fingers.

And I let him.

He always comes back to me. That should tell me something.

Beads of perspiration formed on the glass, running down the side and dampening the napkin. It slipped a bit in my hand and I tightened my grasp on the slick surface. The crystal sparkled, the only brightness in my dismal surroundings. Partially melted, the ice changed from cubes to deformed shapes. They floated sadly on the surface of the vodka, shrinking faster as the heat from my hand warmed the glass.

The one thing that hasn't shrunk is my love for him. It's still there, as strong and as powerful as it always was. I fostered that love, even in the dark days when he never touched me and came home smelling of cheap perfume, a smudge of another woman's lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

When I divorced him and ran from Southfork, I tucked that love away and buried it deep within myself. Part of me hoped it would never resurface, for as wonderful as it was, it hurt that much. I tried to move on, substituting other men and hoping that they could replace the hole that JR burned in my heart and soul. But they couldn't. No one was ever enough. No man fulfilled all my needs the way he could. And I never expected that he would manage to make me forget more than a decade's worth of hurt and loneliness.

But he did.

He promised things would be different this time. This time, things would be great. All he needed, he declared, was me and our son. This time, I would be enough. I watched him in silence, his hands gesturing excitedly and his eyes brimming with hope. Finally, I thought, I would become the center of his universe the way he was mine. A tiny voice in my head whispered that I always was and always had been his center. When he asked for a new beginning, I smiled and said yes.

And all of it went to hell again as I stood in the doorway of that whore's bedroom, HER arms wrapped around HIS neck. The vodka trembled within my hand as I squeezed the glass and raised it slowly to my lips. THEIR bodies moving together on top of her pale pink silk sheets. As the glass moved closer, the odor of the cheap vodka filled my nose with the force of an army. MY heart breaking as I stood, a silent witness to their fucking. My lips parted as the rim touched my bottom lip, the vodka so close my tongue could slip out and lap it up. Welcome home.

"Once a drunk, always a drunk," Momma snarled whenever Daddy crawled home after falling off the wagon. "Remember that Sue Ellen."

A sharp pinch in my left hand shocked me and I dropped the glass. It hit the bar and exploded with a sharp pop. The vodka rushed across the surface in all directions and dripped off the edge.

"Jeez lady! What the hell's the matter with you?" The bartender threw a dirty rag on the counter and wiped up the spilled liquor.

As he shook his head and muttered a curse under his breath, I uncurled my tightly clenched left fist and looked down. There, within the soft flesh of my palm, was the deep imprint of my diamond. The red outline stood out harshly against my pale skin and I pressed my right index finger to it before turning the engagement ring right side up.

"You want another?" The bartender's face was weather beaten, as if he had worked outside for many years. His bushy beard reminded me of Daddy and the way he looked one time when he came home after a week long disappearance. The harsh odor of liquor surrounded him and he looked like death. "Lady?"

Do I want another? Another what? Another drink? Another chance to become the laughing stock of Dallas society? Another chance to become the one that people whispered about?

What I want is my husband. I want to be the center of his universe. I want the marriage I dreamed about as a child, while my parents attacked each other with words. I want my son to grow up with better parents than I had.

Do I want another?

I shook my head and reached into the folds of my purse, finding my wallet and passing the bartender a fifty dollar bill. "Keep the change. For the damage," I explained softly. Setting the strap of my purse high on my shoulder, I felt the bartender's eyes on me as I turned away and headed for the door.

Outside, the narrow street was just as grungy and desolate as it had been when I first encountered it. Time stood still while I stared down the barrel of what could've been a loaded pistol. A warm sense of relief washed over me as I walked further away from the temptation that had been my downfall in the past. The bright lights from the busy street up ahead beckoned me.

The light at the end of a dark tunnel.

And I emerged, still reeling from the familiar betrayal that stung my core. The future was no less certain than it had been before. All of his promises for a new beginning were dead. My heart hung in two and the imprint of THEM was burned into my memory.

I blinked away exhaustion and my head swam with many thoughts. Tomorrow, I'll deal with the ramifications of this newest hurt. And I'll do it sober. That'll be one card he won't be able to use. But for now, the Mercedes is in sight and the promise of home loomed. An escape from today's nightmare. A warm bed with soft pillows.

And JR, wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing the back of my neck.


End file.
