Chapter Three: Things I Don't Understand

By the way, I was inspired by The Last Kiss to write this fic, so I give credit to Zach Braff, who is an excellent writer, actor, and director. Although, I wasn't too fond of his latest movie…you can't get much better than Garden State…

"How infinite is space, and who decides your fate

Why everything will dissolve into sand

How to avoid defeat, when truth and fiction meet

Why nothing ever turns out as you plan."- Things I Don't Understand by Coldplay

You never lied to me not once; it's not your fault that I can't trust

"Come on Tommy, I think we both know what you want to say. That it was a mistake, right? A pity kiss. That you don't feel the way I do…"

Rewind.

It's in my past, it's in my path, and I can't go there

Pause.

"Get it over with. Lie to me."

Making a mess out of this game, to see it all go up in flames

"It never happened."

So tired of being ruthless and reckless…

Fast-forward. Play.

Jude had been tossing and turning for hours. Her body ached and her cheeks burned. Her throat felt dry and swollen, so she got up for a drink of water, or at least she imagined she did. It went on like that for awhile, as she drifted somewhere between dreaming and being awake. Finally she jerked awake, feeling a sudden lurch in her stomach. The room began to spin.

Oh lord, she really was going to be sick.

Throwing off her blankets, Jude cringed as her feverish skin, exposed to the cold night air, was racked with chills. She'd barely made it to the bathroom before emptying the contents of her stomach, her body bent over the toilet as if she were praying. She coughed and coughed until all that came up was a mixture of stomach acid and bile that stung her throat and made her eyes water. She didn't hear the squeak of the bathroom door opening or the footsteps that followed. She didn't realize he was there with her until she felt his a hand encircle her waist, the other holding back her hair, his warm breath surprisingly cool on the back of her neck.

Jude coughed again, and tried to pull away from him.

"Hey, hey. Easy…" Tommy held her firmly against him, the back of her head resting against his chest. He put his palm against her forehead.

"Jesus, Jude…you're burning up..." Gingerly, he gathered her into his arms, and carried her out of the bathroom, and into the bedroom. She moaned and thrashed a bit in protest, but he held her steadfast. She was much too exhausted to really put up a fight.

"I'll be right back…"

He returned a few moments later with a bottle of Tylenol, a glass of water, and a thermometer. Pouring some of the pills into his hand, he helped her sit up. She swallowed them, completely draining the full glass of water he had brought for her. Groaning and shivering, she fell backwards onto the bed.

"Open up." She complied. While he waited for the mercury to settle, he gently stroked her hair. Her eyelashes fluttered.

"103…shit you're hot." Jude tried to laugh but it came out as a cough. Tommy probably would have smiled at the double meaning if he weren't so worried about her. She was still shivering like mad.

He pulled the blankets up around her, and she curled up into a ball, trying to shield every inch of her clammy skin from the cold. Tommy sighed. She looked so fragile and vulnerable…so different from the new Jude. He couldn't just leave her there, so he lay down next to her, on top of the blankets, careful not to get too close. She didn't object.

"Tommy..." After nearly twenty minutes, she spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

His eyes opened, lazily. 'Mm…"

"This doesn't change anything…"

Tommy simply nodded. No arguing, no yelling. "Okay."

But he knew, from the look in her eyes and the sound of her voice, that nothing would be the same again.

I'm not going to be able to update until later next week, so I thought I'd post this little scene to tide you guys over. Thanks so much for all the encouraging reviews!