,, and I'm terrified

[wendy "widow" moira hughes]

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' ' Everything was so screwed up. She had to hand it to him though, her father found a way to strike her down from beyond the grave. Widow had always had a very complicated, and for lack of a better term, fucked up, relationship with her father. Her father was someone she wanted the approval of all her life. He was Darren Hughes Jr. He was to grow up to lead the Sirens. He was an important man. He was powerful and strong. When she was growing up, as a little little kid, she had always hated her aunt liz, Liz was Wid's age. She hated Liz because her father always seemed to like Liz more than Widow. She didn't understand why at that age, all she knew was Liz was getting more attention from WIDOW's own father. It wasn't fair. Widow did everything the man said. Her father told her to bring him a beer. She asked how cold and if he wanted his glass frosted. He asked her to go grab his gun, she asked which one and if he needed her to grab his ammo. The one time she disobeyed him, it ended disastrously. She was still a kid. And it was Jasper. She didn't listen to her father's warning and when her father found them, he beat jasper close to death. Widow never disobeyed her father again. Ever. When her father told her to strip down and sleep with a client, she asked if he preferred school girl or princess. When her father asked her to kill a man, she asked if he preferred a dominant or submissive women in order to seduce him. She hadn't know what was happening with her father and Liz, she hadn't wanted to know. She was too petty.

And then she found out in the worst way she could have. She hasn't been able to touch her own skin without feeling dirty since. She hated him, still missed him but she had long been over being angry with Liz for her father's death. But the bastard, from the beyond the grave, he had to have one last blow. Widow got a call from some men who work for the now ex-senator Fredrick Anderson. Widow had remembered him from a long time ago. About nine years ago, the Senator and her father struck the deal of a life time for the sirens. But why Fredrick would be contacting her, she had no idea. Apparently she was part of the deal her father made those nine years ago. She was young when the deal was man but apparently the old man had seen something he liked and was promised her when he retired and got out of the public eye. Fredrick Anderson was a strong man, he had a lot of disposable resources. She was almost at the point of thinking the best thing to do would be, just go with him. Keep everyone else safe. She hadn't told the others yet. Liz, Orion, Donny, definitely not Jasper, after all he had a kid and fiance and his white picket fence to worry about now. She hadn't even told her best friend Maggie Giovanni. Lord knows the Sirens wouldn't help. And Widow was terrified.

When Widow gets scared, she gets even crazier than she usually is. She begins sleeping around a bit more, she starts snapping and going for the throat when insulting the people she cares about, as opposed to the usual jabs. She pushes anyone who cares away, almost like she wants them to dislike her, so they won't care what happens and won't be as hurt if she goes missing. Widow had a lot of conflicting aspects to her life. She hated her father and was glad he was dead, but she missed him terribly. She was in love with Jasper but couldn't stand to be around him for longer than a minute. She cared about her friends, and consciously knew they would be there for her, but when she needed them her brain convinced itself it was alone, there was no help, no one gave a damn. She became irrational. And right now, that was where she was. Alone in her mind, but pulling herself out of a limo that had stopped in front of her house. She had started the fun a bit early. The guy who's limo she was coming out of, she didn't really remember his name but he was some wealthy grad student at the university. He was fun. They started drinking at happy hour, were back at his place by 8pm. She had to get out of there before his fiance came back home from her girls night so now he was dropping her off, around 10pm.

Widow grinned as the guy leaned out and tried to kiss her goodbye through the open window. She leaned in but instead pressed a finger to his lips and gently pushed back, "Nope, cutting you off." She said with a small giggle as if she were the alcohol. She was still a bit drunk from the activities but she was no longer wasted. Had begun sobering up a bit which was not as much fun by far. Maybe she should get Kale and Donny and go out for the late part of the night. She turned around as the stretch pulled away and before walking decided to pull off her shoes and hold them in her hands. Once bare foot she made her way towards the siren house before looking up and seeing Jasper Richardson. She didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at him before finally speaking up, "What're you doing here?" She asked with a bite. Way to be rude, Wid.

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[jasper grey richardson]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] And I am done with my graceless heart NOTES: hear that sound, that's my heart prepping for annihilation OUTFIT: leather jacket, black jeans, black shirt, grey chucks TAGGED: WISPER, BITCHES. Jasper was always sure of one thing, everything comes to an end. Television shows, meals, lives, relationships, they all ended one way or another. Everything ends, it was the bittersweet truth, and perhaps with this, was the meaning of life. That life was meant to end, no matter how happy or how sad something may be, it will end; it will surely pass. It was because of this notion, that for the past five years, Jasper was expecting the day his girlfriend would leave him, take Eve and never come back. He was expecting her to slam the door in his face when he showed up half out of his mind to her dorm room at three thirty in the morning, but perhaps that was just luck. However, within these past few years, five to be terribly exact, Jasper Grey had grown accustomed to a life with his girlfriend and their beautiful child Eve. That was the trap, the cruel trick his life played on him time and time again. Just when Jasper was feeling comfortable with the way things were, with the way his life was, he should have known something big would have happened. It always did, he could name the dramatic events that his life cornered upon. And thus he shouldn’t have been surprised when he came back from the brunch shift at the Fleur to see the house completely empty. That wasn’t true. His girlfriend was kind enough to leave their previously mentioned Eve, sleeping her afternoon nap. Jasper knew she left, with the fact that her things around the house were mysteriously missing, and the fact that she left the ring he gave her. That was the first instinct, the ring. When he entered the nearly deserted home, right before he threw his keys into the abnormally shaped ceramic dish that held most of his essentially things that were needed when one left the house, he saw the thin band sparkling in the rays of sunlight. He blinked. Jasper thought he saw an optical illusion, feeble attempts to calm his nasty intuition. Of course he knew better, as he dropped his keys to the ground when he heard the familiar sound of Eve crying slightly whilst waking up. That was when his guilt turned into anger, the moment he knew what she left behind. He crept into Eve’s room, wrapping his arms around the sleepy infant, coddling her from all the things he was supposed to tell her, from her new life without a mother. Eve fell asleep immediately as Jasper rocked back and forth, singing a lullaby his mother sang to him. He didn’t know how long he stood in the middle of his daughter’s (and subsequently his sister, who was bunking with Eve) room. He did not move until Liv came in, confirming what he already knew, “She left.” She said blatantly, scooping Eve from her brother’s arms. “Look. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this. But I think you need to talk to Widow. I don’t know, I think you just do. You haven’t since she came back.” He nodded vigorously, trying to think about what he would say, “Oh hey Wendy, my girlfriend left me and my daughter today but I thought I might come by and say hi since you and I never talk anymore.” Ugh. What was he doing? This was the only thing that made sense, he thought a little, as he walked out of the room, slumping onto the couch. It was still the afternoon, perhaps he could go a little later, maybe Wendy would be home a little later, and maybe, just maybe Jasper would know what to say to her. Hours went by as he moped around the house, following Liv and Eve, absently playing with the dolls and monster trucks. He had to hand it to his daughter; she had an eclectic taste in toys. He slummed around the house for hours after Liv told him what he should do. He just did not know how to go about things. He knew he wanted to talk to Wendy, there was something that felt right, that felt comfortable about talking to her, regardless that they haven’t for the past five or so years. Jasper was just waiting, maybe he shouldn’t go, he was just waiting for his conscience to pipe up, telling him that this was a bad idea. That talking to Wendy was something that shouldn’t be done. It wasn’t until Liv became fed up with that puddle of a brother she used to have that when she threw his jacket out on the front yard, along with his shoes and threatened that she “was plenty strong” and wasn’t afraid of literally dragging him out of his own house. That got the twenty four year old out. He didn’t want to be dragged out by his sister, what a sorry sight that would have been. Sighing and shuffling his feet to further anger Liv, Jasper bumbled his way to the Siren house when he saw the limo approach and drop Wendy. He stood there, just watching her, the way she giggled, the way she stood on one foot to peer into the limo’s cabin. He even noiselessly remained when she, slightly venomously, asked what he was doing there, creeping. He wanted to tell her everything, right there in the middle of the street. Jasper wanted to say how much he was hurt, that even though he never loved his girlfriend, but he was hurt that she just left. He wouldn’t have minded her saying something, hell, even a not on a scrap of paper would have been better. He was mad because she just left Eve, how can someone just leave his or her baby? That’s bullshit and he wanted to fight just to get this sick taste from his mouth. It was juvenile, but he would have felt better if he got to punch something because he didn’t know how to tell his baby that mommy wasn’t coming home. That was honestly one of the most painful things (and he had taken bullets to flesh, beatings to near death, everything most people only read about) Jasper was going to have to do, it killed a part of him. He also wanted to say that he loved Wendy. Even though his domestic life had gone to shit, he just wanted to hold onto the only thing he knew was consistent. He loved her; he had always loved her, which was the only thing consistent in Jasper’s life. However, Jasper said nothing when Wendy asked. He shuffled a little, looking at the ground, and back at her. “You look beautiful tonight.” He spoke softly, his shoulders hunching in the light breeze. That was a start, he supposed, it was a meek beginning. So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

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[wendy "widow" moira hughes]

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' ' Looking at Jasper Richardson hurt. It always had, although she had never been able to stop. It was everything about him. The way his hair leaned against his forehead. How even when he was so angry with her, somehow his eyes never seemed to be dark looking at her. It was the way his lower eyelids puffed out slightly when he was tired and it did nothing but make him even cuter. The way his hair sometimes stuck out in the back. The way every little brush of the hand made her want to hug him close. It was his grin when he found something funny, his smirk when he found her amusing but didn't want to give to much away. It was the fact that he always called her Wendy. Why did it hurt? Because all of those little details added up to the heartbreak of her life. Every time she saw those details, all she felt was empty longing, starvation of the heart. And five years ago, when she had once had a chance to change it, when she had a chance to say four little words and make her life infinitely better, less lonely, less pathetic, she was not able to do it. When he said those words all she had heard was her father and all she saw were the scars on Jasper's back from the last time they had allowed themselves one moment. One small moment. She had been too frightened and had not been ready to reply to him "I love you too".

She remembered that day perfectly. It was the day Isabel died. She had never really told anyone this but, Widow had admired Izzy. Izzy was Donny's little sister and grew up with the Sirens in the same dark world, she had been hurt by - take a wild guess - that's right Wid's dear dear father, real stand up guy. But the thing was, Widow was a mixture. She had her soft side, she had the caring side but those parts of her were in a constant battle with the other pieces of her soul. The fiery, the angry, the bitchy, the vain, the insecure, the reckless. It was like she could never be herself completely because who she was contradicted who she was. Liz was the same. Same with Orion and Donny and even Jasper it seemed. Orion was a protective, golden hearted brother type, and a brooding, angry, terrifying type. Liz was a sarcastic, bitter, angry girl and a lonely heart astronomy nerd. Donny was, at least once upon a time, warm hearted geek and a bad ass computer hacker. Now Donny tended to stay a bit more in the hacker zone as the Heyward persona took over, just as the Widow person had taken over Wendy a long time ago. But every now and then, you would still see that warm heart. Izzy was not like that. No, Isabel Davis was beautiful, upbeat, charming, optimistic, compassionate, creative, and artistic. More than that, she knew who she was, she was an open book. She loved who she was. She loved who they were. She accepted who they were. She thought the complicated mess was something beautiful, human and perfect in its flaws. She had also been the only one in the group who picked up on the glances that would sometimes pass between Jasper and her when Wid thought no one was looking.

Isabel was one of the allies she had back then. Back when Widow felt too alone with the Sirens but Liz and Orion were nothing but suspicious of her. It was like a club she had to break into. Isabel Davis was someone, another one, Widow loved but never told. When she died, Widow was torn apart but trying to pretend to be less than that for the sake of Donny who just lost his sister and for Liz who felt all the guilt. She had taken it upon herself to tell Jasper and Liv who was Isabel's best friend. And when she kissed Jasper, it was not a mistake in her mind. But she needed to just be there for a moment, in that comfort zone with him. His lips on hers, his arms around her, her heart skipping every other beat. When he told her he loved her, maybe it was too much to deal with. Isabel dying added to the fear of those words that had been instilled in Widow since birth. Maybe it was just the timing because five years later, after being aimless with JR for so many years, as much as she enjoyed her time with JR, one of the reason she had come back was to see Jasper. To tell him she loved him. Tell him that even if he's moved on, she loved him that day, and had loved him before and long after that day. But when she saw him with his woman and his daughter, her mind had gone blank.

And now, with this... transaction looming over her head, taunting her with the existence she was probably destined for, all she had was her jealousy and her anger, her denial. She was keeping her love for him, not giving it away to the man when he won't even use it. She would need it where she was going after all. Probably. Honestly she was not quite sure if she made any sense at the moment, even in her own mind. She was definitely tipsy, and a bit emotional. Okay a lot emotional. She had been harsher than usual to the people in her life. Some of them, like Maggie and Liz were so fed up they stopped listening and left her be, which was sort of the objective so... yay Widow! you're winning, the prize? Isolation. Widow reached up and pulled a hand through her hair to shake the roots a bit as he spoke. “You look beautiful tonight.” Widow dropped her hand and nodded with a small laugh as she looked up at him. She pointed and shook her finger slowly towards him, "That didn't answer my question, did it?" She retorted. She pulled slightly on her leather jacket that had been kept open and used the grip of her hands to rest her arms. She leaned her head back and sighed briefly before tilting her head back up and looking at him confused, "Don't you have a picket fence to paint white or some other crap to do?" She asked, slightly slurred but only just.

She dropped her hands and turned a bit, taking a slightly swung step towards the house, "I mean come on pal, blondie and that little thing running around? pretty sure it's bedtime." Widow continued, she wasn't quite sure if that made sense but it sounded mean so she was satisfied. She turned and set herself down on the stairs to the porch, leaning slightly onto the railing, "And for the record, the wife is the little rat thing. I mean seriously has she ever even looked at burger?" She added with a slight giggle, resisting the urge to pinch at her own stomach and curl up into a ball sadly, god she hated herself.

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