Just a short drabble about the relationship between Tony and Effy. Set after Season Three, Episode 8. Don't read if you don't want spoilers.
Also contains slight implications of incest. Take it however you want, though.
Please leave feedback - good or bad.
It had been a blur. A whirlwind. The drugs were so fresh in my system, coursing through me like a lifeline. And Freddie had looked so good. His caramel skin, perfect in the firelight. I wanted to reach out. Touch his face. Kiss him. Hear him say that he loved me. But, even so high in the clouds, I knew I couldn't. She was there.
Katie.
I wasn't jealous of her. Just pissed off at Freddie. I never felt anger towards someone so much. Not my mum. Not my dad. Just Freddie. I loved him, more than he knew. I wanted... him. I wanted love. Not just a mindless fuck.
But I had screwed it up. And I took more drugs. Shrooms. Vodka. Shaking hands. And I ran. Ran, ran, ran. Then I heard her voice. She was messing with me. And I was suddenly on the ground – being slapped, kicked, hair pulled, spat on. Hot tears. I groped for anything. Something. It just happened to be a rock.
I wandered. Back to Freddie. Away from her. Motionless. Possibly dead. But I forgot about her. The moment Freddie mashed his lips to mine, the moment his hands were all over me, the moment he was completing me. Loving me. Katie could be dead for all I cared. For all I knew.
But morning came and I felt... empty. I had expected to feel wonderful. A princess, in a fairytale, finally getting her happy ending. But I only felt empty. A hole. My heart was gone, broken. Long ago it was smashed. I smashed it myself. To prevent any hurt in the future.
And Freddie looked at me with those eyes. Dark, brown, perfect. He loved me. But he loved Katie. And as soon as they all realized she was gone, they spread out, calling for her. Searching for Katie. Not Effy. It was never Effy.
That was what I wanted though, right? Solitude? I didn't need anyone. An island, floating in the sea. Alone. Alone.
Panic gnawed at me as we drove in the car. The silence was pressing down on me like a vice, choking me. Restricting me. It wanted me to think. Remember the sound it made when it connected with her head. And Freddie wasn't making things better. Are you alright, Eff?
As if he cared. He just wanted to make sure I wouldn't tell anyone about our late night fuck session.
No. That's not true. He actually loves you. And you buggered off and let him. I let myself fall in love. And now I was paying the consequences.
But the guilt. It stabbed me. At every turn of the road. Every curve in the street. My hands were shaking and I felt bile rising in my throat. And suddenly -
"I have to pee."
Everyone groaned, all the way until I pulled the car over. I was out of there so fast, the door almost closed on my sweater. I ran around the little wall I had found and leant against it, breathing shallow. Fumbling with my cell, my numb fingers dialled the number I had dialled so many times. Like a pattern. A lifeline.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
And silence. Panic... panic...
Ring. Ring. Ring.
More silence. More panic. More vomit threatening to arrive.
Ring. Ring. Ri-
"Hello?"
Relief crashed over me, like a wave on an unsuspecting shore, dragging my fear. Dragging the guilt. Dragging it all away to drown. I can't breathe. And when I finally manage to get a breath through, it comes out as a strangled inhale.
"Eff? What's wrong?" He sounds so worried. It almost makes me smile. But I don't. I just stand there, un able to breathe, wanting to cry. To scream. Something to let him know that I need him. So fucking bad.
"I didn't mean to, Tone." My voice is almost impossible to hear. Like a whisper. God. I sound so fucking pathetic. Not like Tony. He wouldn't cry like this. "I was tripping. On shrooms. Vodka. It all happened... so... the rock... I didn't..."
I can't even make sense. But somehow, somehow, he knows. Or, he doesn't. But he makes it seem like he can read my mind.
"Eff. It's alright. Breathe." He waits. Until my breathing is normal. Until I can feel my chest, rising and falling and on cue, he continues. "What did you do?"
I can't tell him. I can't. I'm weak. He's perfect. God like. And now, I've ruined it. "Just send an ambulance. To Gobblers End."
At this, he's silent. But again, he seems to read my mind.
"Eff. Whatever you did wasn't your fault. I'm calling right now. I'll find you later."
Click.
I stare at my phone for a few moments and suddenly the relief is washing away. A tsunami is spitting it back onto that shore, breaking it's skin and killing it. I'm about to bend over and sob, puke, anything but I hear Naomi's voice. Asking what's taking so long.
Nothing. Nothing. Just self loathing.
The drive back is long. Horrible. An ache in my heart is stinging. At the loss of Tony's voice. And now I'm just numb. As we pull back into a parking lot, Freddie is suddenly out of the car, pulling me out. His lips are at my ear.
"'S alright, Eff. We rung your mum. She'll pick you up, kay?" The words don't make sense but I nod. I have to seem normal. Maybe he'll think I'm normal.
Love me. Love me. Love me. Fucking, please, don't leave me.
But his arms are already gone as a familiar car pulls into view. Black. Toyota. Comfort. Home. And out steps my counterpart. My angel.
Tony.
I can see Freddie frown. "Who're you?" He's questioning, as if he were expecting my mum to pick her ass of the couch and come and get me.
Tony glances at him, as if he is a fly in his way and replies simply. "Her fucking brother."
And now his arms are around me. Leading me to his car. Away from Freddie.
His hands are the same as ever. Soft and beautiful and... the door slams and I can hear him walking around before he gets in as well. And we sit. In silence. But even then, he's reading my thoughts. I turn my gaze, not looking at his eyes. Those blue, stunning, piercing eyes. I know they are stabbing right through me right now, seeing through any defence I might have attempted to make.
He sees me. He sees Elizabeth Stonem. The weak, needy, pathetic little girl that I am. And yet, he loves me. So. Fucking. Much. It almost hurts.
"Tone..." I finally croak, my voice strained from the constriction in my throat. I want to say – hold me. Don't let me go. Kiss my face. Please. But instead I fall silent.
For a moment I think he's going to reach out and touch me. Maybe pull me in for a hug. But he doesn't. And it hurts. He just puts the keys in the ignition and speeds off, the sound of the engine masking my tears.
He knows I'm crying. He knows everything about me. Every single thing. And I love him for it. But he stays silent. Stony as ever. Eyes set forward, jaw clenched in worry. In love. In fear. In... Tony.
We don't go home. Were at a flat I don't recognize. He gets out and I stay, staring ahead. He opens my door and pulls me out, staring at me for a moment before he picks me up, cradling me against his chest. My eyes stay open, wide, unblinking. I think I've gone into shock.
Soon I find myself sitting on the bathtub, listening to the water. It's loud. I'm numb. Empty. A wound, cleaned with antiseptic and bandaged up poorly. I've infected myself.
Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to be Tony. Exactly like him. He didn't give a shit. Fucked every girl he wanted. Hell, even some boys. I wanted that. The cool exterior and no inside. A shell. Too distant to even care.
Suddenly I can feel his hands, stripping me of my clothing. My sweater, my tank top. My necklaces.
"Stand up."
I do. Slowly. Now he's tugging down my leggings. My underwear. But it's not awkward with Tony. It's just right. And he's lifted me off the ground. Strong arms around me, lowering me into the hot water. It burns but I love it.
I'm shivering. I'm crying. And all I can feel are his hands, scrubbing off the dirt. The guilt. The fear. He stays silent as I sob, the only sound filling the small room is my strangled chorus of pity. Eventually it subsides. The water is beginning to get cold by now.
He pulls me out, wrapping a huge towel around me and brushing my wet hair out of my face. Now he's picking me up again. Lying me on a bed I can tell is his. This must be where he lives now.
Numbly, my eyes scan the room. I would smile if I could. It's all Tony. Neat, organized, perfect. Yet manipulative. Cold. Distant. And I'm the only one who can see that. See all of him. Like he sees all of me. Knows every thought before I do. Like a twin.
I feel a weight beside me in the bed and I turn my head. Blue meets blue as our gaze locks. We stay like that for a while. Staring, looking, reading each other.
He's the first to move, propping himself up on his elbow, staring down at me with a slightly furrowed brow. Exhausted, I lift my hand slowly and touch his cheek. His lips flicker into a smirk.
But it's not his usual smirk of cocky 'twatness.' It's just Tony.
"Elizabeth Stonem." I know it's serious when he uses my name. My full name. "I, Anthony Stonem, love you. Fucking a lot. And I will always save you."
These words bring a fresh set of tears, silent ones. His arms snake around me and for the first time in my life, I feel warm with him.
I feel loved.
My hands lace in his hair, pulling the strands, letting them caress between my fingers as my eyes close. It's nice. Just lying here. With him holding me against his body. We fit together. Like a puzzle. The Stonem puzzle.
No one can figure us out – no one except us. It always will be just us. I begin to drift off to sleep and I feel the need to say one thing.
"Thank you."
I don't need to be looking at him to see the expression on his face. I don't need to hear him speak to hear what he would say.
You're welcome.