Trashed and Scattered

Peyton leaned against the freshly painted wall, watching as the lanky man before her unraveled the screws from their joints. He tossed them carelessly to the floor as he went along, striking up a sense of amused adoration inside the woman’s bones. His blue eyes flickered up at her, a subtle grin spreading across his face.
“What?” he inquired playfully.
She chuckled, uncrossing her arms from her chest, “Nothing.”
“You know, you could probably do this,” Jimmy retorted, cocking a daring brow her way.
“No way,” she scoffed. “It’s much simpler if you do it.”
He laughed, “No shit.”
“I thought you weren’t handy,” she thought aloud, a delicate smirk threatening to dismantle her conviction.
Jimmy grunted, “I’m handy as shit, Lex. I don’t know why you’d ever listen to Brian. He’s just trying to talk himself up by comparison.”
“He did hang the kitchen lights,” Peyton snickered. “And the stairwell lights.”
“Well lights are a whole other problem,” he chuckled, pulling another metal screw from the door. “I’m not so good with shit that can blow up.”
Peyton nodded, “I believe you.”
“But this,” he smiled, thudding his palm against the wooden door, “this is fuckin’ child’s play.”
“Oh my god,” Peyton burst. “Do you remember that movie?”
Jimmy scowled, his work seizing as he looked up at the brunette with blank curiosity. The way her mind would leap from point to point was agile in its perplexity. But his own process wasn’t too far behind and he quickly caught up.
“Barb was pissed,” she recounted fondly, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Do you remember?”
“Of course I fucking remember,” he laughed pointedly. “That shit scarred me.”
“I remember being terrified,” Peyton nodded excitedly. “We locked up all of your sisters’ dolls, didn’t we?”
He smirked, unlatching the final binds before pulling the door from the archway, “We did. Katie was fucking pissed.”
“Katie was always pissed,” Peyton giggled.
“Yeah, and my mom was horrified that we’d watched it,” Jimmy cackled.
Peyton straightened herself up, summoning her best Barb Sullivan impression, “You two did what?! You’re too young to watch that! Isn’t that a murderer doll? You watched a murderer doll?”
Jimmy’s face scrunched with a fury as he erupted into laughter, leaning against the bare trim as he struggled to take breaths. Peyton was overwhelmingly pleased with the response to her role.
“Fuck, she was so mad,” Jimmy managed between laughs.
Peyton grinned, “I don’t think I’ve seen that movie since. It scarred me that bad.”
Jimmy nodded, his laughter slowly rolling out, “Do you think it’s as crazy as we remember? I bet we’d just laugh about it now.”
“One way to find out,” she shrugged.
“Yes!” he concurred happily, pointing a long finger her way. “We finish with the door and then we go on a hunt for Chucky.”
Peyton snapped into action, with the incentive of humorous horror films as reward for her labor. She snatched the heavy door from Jimmy’s reach and shuffled her way outside. Jimmy watched her with great amusement as she struggled to make her way along the front of the house.
“Need some help there, Lex?” he called to her.
She shook her head, “It’s not heavy, it’s just awkward.”
“You’re weak,” he informed her, bounding up behind her to supervise her struggle with authority.
Grunting as she shimmied the monstrous door around the corner, she retorted, “I’m not weak. I’m jacked.”
“Where?” he challenged with a laugh, poking at her trembling arm.
“Stop that!” she hissed, scowling with concentration as she finally set the plank against the side of the house.
Taking a step back, Peyton admired her work with a satisfied nod of her head.
“You’re way too smug right now,” Jimmy grinned. “You moved a fucking door. You didn’t even move it somewhere useful.”
Her accomplishment fell with her face, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s just going to live against the side of your house?” he asked her blankly.
She stared back just as blankly.
Jimmy turned to the door, flailing his arms apart, “Welcome home, Buddy!”
“Shut up,” Peyton laughed, turning on her heel and abandoning the manual labor.
Jimmy followed on her heels, bumping her out of his way as they neared the open doorway. He ripped into the cardboard box set to rest in the green lawn.
“I opted for one with glass,” she explained as the box gave way. “Figured at least then the next time, they might just break the pane and not the fucking door.”
Jimmy pulled his lips to one side, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I fucking hope there’s not a next time.”
Peyton shrugged, “I would assume they’ll be back…”
“You know, I have money,” he informed her. “We could just find out who they are and pay them off.”
“Fuck that,” she scoffed. “We’re not getting involved in my mother’s mess. I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”
He challenged her with his hands on his hips, “And if it doesn’t?”
“How could it not?” she countered. “Eventually there will be a for sale sign up in the yard. I think they’ll get the hint.”
“I hope so,” he nodded. “But you’re not staying here until then.”
Peyton sighed, “They’re coming to install the new windows tomorrow.”
“Right,” Jimmy replied slowly, staring straight into her soul. “That’s nice. Doesn’t matter. You’re officially a vagabond now though.”
She groaned.
“I’ve dubbed you!” he told her enthusiastically. “It’s like being knighted, but with shame and not honor.”
She laughed, against her will, “I’m so touched.”
“As you should be,” he grinned, breaking his gaze apart to focus on the pressing task at hand.
With a fumbling touch, he pulled the white door from its container. A drawn out and entirely theatrical groan later, the door was standing in all its glory. He shifted his way over to the house with ease, which only frustrated poor Peyton.
“Come hold this,” Jimmy instructed her.
She obliged him, wrapping her fingers around the wood as Jimmy got to work attaching it to the frame. Her focus attached itself to the muscles rippling within his arms as he dramatically thrust the drill to life. With a wiggle of his eyebrows, Peyton was swooning. Something about his effortless humor always had her in stitches. She found herself adoring him in the most fundamental way possible; as if it was somehow hardwired into her DNA.
Ten minutes later, the Winchester house was adorned with a new front door and a deadbolt lock. You could hardly tell someone had forced their way in less than twenty-four hours prior. It was almost as if nothing had happened and nothing had changed.
“Good?” Jimmy asked, surveying his work with a distinct pride.
Peyton smiled, “So good.”
“Good!” he concurred loudly. “Now we can get to the fun shit.”
“What, slaving over installations isn’t your idea of fun?” Peyton teased.
He shook his head, “Absolutely fucking not. Come on.”
With that, Jimmy disappeared across the lawn, casually stepping over the hedges that fenced the property line between Winchester and Sullivan. Peyton hesitated for exactly one second before following, choosing to take the less obstacle-ridden route. But, by time she’d reached Sullivan land, Jimmy had already reappeared. He jingled his keys at her as means of explanation.
He led her to the road and pointed once at her and then to the passenger seat. Without any other instruction, he ducked around his car and hopped into the driver’s seat. Never one to argue with Wiley, Peyton happily climbed inside.
Jimmy pushed his foot to the floor, speeding off as if they had any real sense of urgency. Peyton shuffled through his glove-box like it was her own, scowling at his musical choices before finally landing on a common favourite.
“Don’t sing any of this shit to me,” Peyton warned him as she slid a Bright Eyes album into the stereo. “I think you’ve ruined enough of my favourite songs for the next eternity.”
He furrowed his brows over at her, “Yeah, it’s fine, just change the CD. No problem.”
Peyton smiled.
“I don’t ruin songs either,” he followed up quickly. “I make them better.”
“Yeah,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “I especially love when you use them to tell me that I suck.”
Jimmy frowned, “I’ve never told you that you suck.”
“No,” she sighed. “I guess that’s true. Just that you hate me.”
They fell into a silence, letting the little piece of bitter truth pick at their tense bones. Jimmy kept his eyes narrowed on the road before them, Peyton opted for the scenic view outside her window.
“If I really hated you,” Jimmy spoke quietly. “I wouldn’t help you.”
Peyton breathed deeply, “And if I didn’t need your help? Then how would I know?”
“You’ll always need my help,” he smirked. “That’s part of who you are.”
“Unlikely,” she quipped. “I got by for thirteen years without your help. I managed to survive.”
He laughed sharply, “Yeah, there’s a difference between surviving and living, Lex.”
“You don’t think I’ve been living?” she questioned, only a little offended.
He shrugged.
“What the fuck gives that impression?” she asked, genuinely curious at this point.
“Because we’ve always been in sync,” he told her like it was obvious.
She squinted over at him, “And…”
“And I don’t think I was living before you showed up,” he replied so casually that Peyton wasn’t sure if he was being real or not. “So, I guess I’m like a newborn now.”
“Welcome to the world,” she groaned.
He chuckled, letting the conversation die out as he pulled into a strip mall. The car lurched with a violence as he slammed it into park and vacated without warning. Peyton didn’t mind; she happily trotted along behind him.
“This place has the best fucking selection I’ve ever seen,” Jimmy informed the brunette as he pulled the door open and let her slither passed.
She grinned back at him, “You want good selection? Try a New York video store. Your mind will be blown.”
“It’s going to take more than a movie rental to blow my mind, Lexi,” he informed her, breezing by and leading the way with a long stride.
Peyton watched his messy headed drummer stroll along the aisles, carelessly perusing the selection until he stumbled on his desired locale.
“Found the good shit!” he called over to her.
The artist made her way over to him, taking her time as her gaze wandered along the movie titles. She fancied herself a bit of a cinephile but upon loose inspection, realized she really was quite restrained in her experiences.
As Peyton rounded into the horror section, Jimmy shook a case triumphantly in her direction.
“Without my glasses too,” he beamed.
She laughed, “I’m so proud.”
“We should get a couple,” he informed her. “We’ll have a fucking binge fest over the next few days while I play host.”
Peyton tilted her head to the side, “What do you mean while I play host?”
“You’re obviously staying in Manor Sullivan,” he told her simply, spinning around to continue his selection. “Duh.”
“Jimmy,” she sighed. “That’s wildly unnecessary.”
He rolled his blue eyes, “It’s neither wild nor unnecessary. I’m not letting you get murdered. Not on my watch.”
“I can get a hotel.”
“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” he laughed. “Just give me a couple days. Give me some peace of mind.”
She was resistant.
“What’s the fucking difference if we plan for you to end up at my house or if you crawl inside in the middle of the night? It’s really, it’s just more fun if you go along with my shit. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
“Or what?” she challenged.
“I’ll fucking bound and tie you,” he informed her. “Peyton.”
She cocked her head back, “Okay, don’t use my name like that. It’s weird and it’s fucking creepy.”
“Mission accomplished!” he jeered, reaching out to snatch another movie from the shelf. “Freddy!”
“I can get into some Nightmare on Elm Street,” Peyton smirked.
Jimmy smiled, “Does that mean you’re giving into Sleepover a la Sullivan?”
Peyton hesitated, digging her toes into the stained carpet, “Tell me something.”
“Is it that I have a comfortable mattress?” he asked, his smile failing him. “You already know that isn’t true.”
“No,” she half-laughed. “How…Won’t…”
Jimmy squinted, “Enlightening.”
“Won’t Natalie lose her mind?” Peyton finally asked. “How are you around so much the last day? Am I missing something?”
“Yes,” he replied quickly. “So, I’m thinking these two and then a comedy to lighten the mood. I don’t want to hear bitching about nightmares.”
Peyton raised her brows, “Jimmy.”
He sighed, twisting his hand into a small circle in the air, “We, uh…We broke up.”
“What?” she gasped. “When?”
“About twenty minutes after you disappeared,” he replied quietly.
Peyton was at a loss. The guilt that rippled through her was that of a tidal wave.
“Are you okay?” was all she could think to ask.
He nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry, Jimmy…I didn’t mean…”
“It wasn’t you,” he said but the disbelief on her face had him laughing. “I mean it was…but not directly. It was me. It was…the whole thing.”
Peyton eyed him strangely.
“Look,” he groaned. “All I’m going to say is that she told me if I went after you, she was done with me. And…I went for the door anyway. I think that’s what sealed the deal for her.”
Peyton frowned, “I don’t even know what to say…I feel awful.”
“Don’t,” he smiled. “It’s really okay.”
“I’ve fucked up everything,” she breathed.
Jimmy tapped her arm with the movies, “You’ve fucked up nothing. But if you fuck up our movie night with your whining, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Why would you go after me anyway?” she asked then. “Is that when she came at me like some psychopathic banshee? Fill me in here.”
“Yeah,” he half-laughed. “I’m sorry about that by the way. That shit was crazy.”
Peyton shrugged, “Sorry I hit her.”
“I would have hit her with a bus,” he shrugged back. “She had it coming.”
She nodded awkwardly.
“Anyway,” Jimmy started, taking a nervous step forward to move into a slow pace. “the reason I went after you, is because I realized something.”
“And what’s that?” Peyton pressed curiously as she fell into step with the lanky drummer.
He smiled, “That all those old protective feelings I had for you are still there. Watching you and Brian fight…I don’t know. I hate to see you upset. It was just an all around bad situation. I owed it to you to come after you. I should have made it better…”
“It feels better,” Peyton offered weakly. “Between you and I anyway. The rest is still…Whatever it is.”
Jimmy laughed, “It is better. I like hanging out with you.”
He really liked kissing her too but felt it might be better to leave that revelation aside for now. Somehow, they’d started to slip back into the friendship that Jimmy had been so sure they could find again. It hadn’t taken long and it hadn’t taken much work—both sentiments entirely unlost on Jimmy. He wanted to be greedy with her now. He didn’t want complications of romantics to bog down the connection they’d rekindled.
“Me too,” Peyton smirked.
“Okay,” he announced, clearing his throat. “Enough of this shit. Go find me something funny. I’m going in for snacks. We’ll reconvene in five.”
“Yes, sir,” she teased, throwing in a salute for good measure.
He grinned, “Break!”
Armed with snacks to feed a village and three extra movies added to their loaned collection, Peyton and Jimmy set back out down the road they’d come. With Natalie out of the picture, Peyton couldn’t think of a good enough reason to decline an invitation to Sleepover a la Sullivan. There was no denying she selfishly soaked up every second of Jimmy’s gaze. If a break-in meant that she got to drown in Jimmy’s attention, she didn’t mind a little violence.
With two like minds each warring simultaneously, they curled into the sounds of Bright Eyes—Jimmy careful not to accidental taint any more of Peyton’s love.
But when First Day of My Life rolled through the speakers, Jimmy couldn’t help the relation that flared up inside him. He wondered if Peyton might know deep down that if he could sing along to any of the songs on any of the albums, at that moment, it would be this one. A man of great reluctance and doubt, he kept his plump lips tightly sealed.
Peyton was desperately wishing he might break his vow of silence. But in the deafening quiet, she found her answers. Their kiss had been a whirlwind of misplaced emotion, tagged a mistake with the night they’d shared.
In his silence, Peyton knew, Jimmy would always be her friend.

Notes

How the fuck are we already at 64 chapters?! Shit's wild.

xx