<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/>Lea and Carlos had gone in and out of the gun shop quickly enough, settling on a 9mm Smith & Wesson handgun. It was something Lea was familiar with, and something Carlos deemed sturdy enough to do all it needed to. Afterwards they had gone and replaced more of what Lea and broken, and on their ride home it was quiet.<br/><br/>It wasn't until they were back in Lea's apartment that she spoke once more<span style="color: #FF80FF">, "Thank you...for everything,"</span>she said softly, unable to look Carlos in the eye.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "I know...that I haven't been there like I should have been....and I appreciate all that you are doing for me now...I just...I wish I could take everything that has happened and never went out with Freeman. If I had never gone out with him, I probably wouldn't have fallen so far..."</span>she said sadly, then looked Carlos in the eye,<span style="color: #FF80FF">"Then again...it's always been my choice and I never chose you when I should have...and...and I am more sorry about that than anything else. I should have told you my problems, I should have shared what I was thinking....you were my partner, my best friend, and still I said nothing--and for what? I'm not sure...I guess to try and deal with things on my own...or maybe because I was so scared...or maybe both...I don't know."</span><br/><br/>Lea gave a shuddering breath as she sat down, setting the bags at her feet, her cat coming out to greet the two of them,<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "I don't know, Carlos. I don't know anything I am doing anymore. I don't know how I have even lasted this long in life. Every time I tried to end it, to just kill myself--I could only think of you last minute and end up not being able to go through with it...everyday I feel so guilty about all I did and what I put you through, but I also am so goddamn sad about everything that I just am not sure if I'll make it to the next day..." </span>she stopped for a moment to take a breath, leaning back in the couch and closing her eyes,<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "I have to be honest...if it weren't for coke...if it weren't for the pleasure it brought me, I'd likely have blown my brains out before I was even forced to step down...I tell you this just so you know--I am not who you thought I was...Sure, I was getting better and you knew a piece of me, but this is who I am...at least since John and Lucas died...I wish I could say that I deserve another chance, that I deserve a moment of redemption in the form of you---but I don't, Carlos. I don't. The only thing I deserve is the seventh ring of hell, and maybe even further than that. The only think you will get from loving me is a lot of heart ache and disappointment...I would like to think that you can help me, I even believe it sometimes--but at the moment, I'm not sure. I don't know. This is the most affection I have received since John died...and it's difficult." <br/></span><br/>Lea looked up at Carlos with the same deep green eyes as she always had, her chin quivering,<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "I enjoy all of the affection you show me, but sometimes there is a part of me that feels so terribly guilty. You are competing with a ghost, Carlos--and I don't know how to make that any different. I am aware you and John are completely different people...I'm aware that John is gone, but there is a part of me that is so fucking disgusted with myself for even falling this low--for even being able to love someone else...because I do love you, Carlos. I love you almost as much as John, if not more so...and it scares the hell out of me. Because if you ever go, if something ever happens to you, I won't survive it. It won't be like John--I won't be able to find a purpose again..." </span><br/><br/>She looked down at her lap, feeling overly exposed to Carlos. Everything she had said was true. She did love him as much as John, if not more so. Carlos was her only light at the moment, and maybe that heavily weighed on how she felt, but she had more of a feeling that she actually did love Carlos as himself. But it was hard to let go of John. It was hard to let go of Lucas. John had been her first in everything, and he had been an amazing man and person all around. He had not asked her to be anything else but her, and it had been something she had desperately needed.<br/><br/>Carlos had shown up in Lea's time of need, but she hadn't quite been able to give her whole self to him as she had John. John had always approached everything calmly, softly, quietly--whereas Carlos had literally come in and beat her with his feelings. Lea had not said much about it since their initial conversation about Carlos' actions and his past, but there was a part of her that was still afraid of him. She wasn't used to such an aggressive approach, and she was very much aware that Carlos' approach was not proper or okay--legally or otherwise. She still could not fault him for it though, because as she reflected she felt as if she had deserved it, even if she didn't actually deserve it. She wondered, as she looked up to Carlos, if this was what battered wife syndrome felt like...and then she chose to forget about it, because he hadn't shown much violence towards her since.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"You can't hit me anymore," </span>she said suddenly with a firmness that resembled the old Lea.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "You hit me again, and we are done. I don't care about your reasoning. I don't care if I'm high on meth and about to jump out of a plane, you cannot hit me..." </span>Lea's eyes were penetrating Carlos' own and it was clear it was something she was serious about.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "I can't do it, Carlos. It doesn't matter how well intended it may be, it only depresses me and makes me want to find the deepest, darkest corner of the earth to stay and overdose on anything and everything. I tell you this so you understand me, so that you know what sort of damage you can cause if you do such things..." <br/></span><br/>And somehow, despite her quivering chin, Lea was totally committed to her demands. If Carlos ever hit her again, she would walk away. Hitting drugs was better than being hit, no matter what anyone else said. At least, for the most part, she could control where her drugs and booze went--she couldn't control other people's temper, and she wasn't exactly fond of being hit or raped. She had forgiven Carlos of the rape, as she wasn't sure how to label it because she had enjoyed it in the end, even if it was full of tears...but the hitting...? She wasn't so sure. She knew he had felt bad, but feeling bad didn't prevent someone from doing it again. She knew that all too well from being an addict.<br/><span style="color: #FF80FF"><br/>"Please, Carlos...promise me..."</span>she whispered, her eyes peering into his with a deep sadness that spoke in volumes.