It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding) ((Derek))

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

She needed a night out. She knew she did. She had denied herself it for far too long. Sometimes, Dixie had to convince herself that she was only imagining that Jamie needed her at all times. It made her feel as if she really was needed, and she couldn’t afford to have any time for herself. Time for herself meant she had to be alone, which meant she had more ability to think about Adam, and that was something that she really didn’t want to do. Mack, however, had thought it would be best for her to get out. Go shopping, do something. She insisted on it, even offered to watch Jamie for her. Dixie couldn’t refuse, and so she had pulled on a pair of jeans, boots with a 3 inch stiletto heel, and a black cashmere sweater. Bundled up in her leather red knee length coat, and her black scarf around her neck, Dixie apparated to Hogsmeade from the manor in Ireland. She hadn’t been to Hogsmeade since she left Adam, and she was worried about going there – but she figured that she wanted a nice hot butterbeer, and therefore the best place to go was the Three Broomsticks. At the last minute, though, the image of the Three Broomsticks became the image of the front yard of the small cottage and that was where she ended up apparating to.

Her stomach churned and she clutched it, her eyes never leaving the front door. It was so close; she could walk right through the front door and be in the living room, she could walk to the bedroom that she once shared with Adam, she could smell the sheets, look at the room she had spent time decorating. She could do all of that. But she wouldn’t. Tears stung her eyes and quickly, Dixie felt for her wand, fumbling with it, and then quickly apparated out of this horrendous place to anywhere…anywhere! And that anywhere ended up being Diablo in London, the club that Dixie had opted out that fateful night when Rae had too much to drink and was the cause of the beginning of the end. It was busy, but Dixie got in rather quickly – having been there so many times before for rather important “meetings” with clients that were more along the lines of watching them get smashed and stumbling about doing something embarrassing. Those meetings always ended well, though; they always signed with her. Always. At least she always had her job, she was good at that – she was dependable in that. Just like she was dependable for Jamie. And only Jamie.

Dixie slid onto a stool at the bar, placing her small purse in front of her. She pulled out her cell phone and looked down at it with a sigh, before looking up for the bartender. He was down at the other end, helping a group of customers with their drinks. Dixie could afford to be patient. She opened the menu of her phone and clicked to the text message inbox. It was empty. Dixie breathed in deeply and closed the menu, letting her gaze fall to her left ring finger. It was bare, but she could still feel the weight of the rings on it. Phantom ring syndrome. “What can I get for you?” Dixie looked up and offered the bartender a small smile. This was a muggle and wizarding club, but they only served muggle drinks – just as they only played muggle music. “Something strong.” Dixie hadn’t drank in a while, but she had built up a rather high tolerance to it in her younger years, and so she figured it would take her awhile to get completely trashed. The bartender placed a small glass in front of her and began pouring liquor into it. She watched the alcohol mix and then when it was finished, she knocked it back – enjoying, yet loathing, the bitter and cruel taste of the drink.

40 minutes and about 80 of those shot drinks later, Dixie was feeling very tipsy but not nearly drunk enough. The bartender kept making drinks for her, but the judgment was evident in his eyes. Screw you, Dixie thought, You have absolutely no bloody idea what I have gone through. So, screw you. Her phone hadn’t gone off at all. No Adam calling to see where she was, no Mack calling to tell her that they needed milk, no Rae calling to check up and see if she was suicidal. Dixie sighed and looked over her shoulder at the other clubbers, then she looked back at the bartender as he poured her another drink. “Look…I know that you’re jud…judging me, right now. But you really sh…shouldn’t.” Dixie hiccupped slightly, holding her hand to her lips and looking at the gentleman on her right, “He really shouldn’t jud…judge me. He doesn’t know anything of what I’ve gone through.” She nodded matter-of-factly and knocked back the next drink, and if she wasn’t so tipsy, she would have realized how much like Adam that gentleman on her right looked.

[Derek Alsbrow]

Derek had a knack for finding good places with good drinks wherever he went, and while in London, he had heard about a little place called Diablo in town. He had decided to stay in the city for one extra day to try and get some groundwork laid down before heading to Hogwarts and the nearby village of Hogsmeade. While apparating was definitely a quick way to get across short (and long) distances quickly, Derek enjoyed a good walk from time to time. He walked out of the small apartment where he had stayed for a few days and returned his key, paying the man at the front the last bit of his rent. He thanked the man and walked out of the building with nothing but his money and his wand. It was all he needed at the moment. Once he got to Hogwarts he would need a few more supplies but those could wait. It was past due time for a drink. He walked through the soft wind and chilly temperature to Diablo, and easily walked into the club. As the music blasted its way into his ears, he felt right at home. This wasn’t the kind of atmosphere he had grown up in, but it was definitely a place he felt comfortable in, and he took a seat at the bar next to a few other individuals. Unlike them, he was there to get a drink or two and enjoy the night exploring the city, trying to find any clues that could lead him to Adam or Sierra.

Derek noted without looking that the woman next to him was drinking quite a strong drink. He ordered his usual, just a simple beer. He shook his head as the woman downed the rest of her drink, almost begging the bartender for another one. What would possess someone of her stature to drink so heavily? Glancing briefly, he took her in, noticing she was strikingly beautiful and apparently dressed to fit the part as well. Derek briefly wondered in his mind how many of the shots the woman had drank before he had sat down, but once he thought it he realized how stupid it was to even think of. This woman had no business, no bearing on his life at all. He was there for his drink and his pleasure only. As the bartender filled her shot glass once again, the woman mumbled and tripped over her words, explaining pathetically how he was judging her, but that he shouldn’t. He chuckled and shook his head again, and was about to take another sip of his beer, when she hiccuped and looked right at him, saying how she shouldn’t be judged because no one in that club knew an inkling of what she had gone through. Before he spilled his beer all over her, he set it down and turned to her, as she knocked back yet another shot. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? I just got here and you’ve gone through three of those. That’s enough to get any woman your age drunk off her arse.” He didn’t know this woman at all, but he had seen quite a few people in his day drunk, and it was definitely getting close for this young woman.

He then thought about what she said. He decided he might have a little fun with her. “And since the bartender doesn’t know anything of what you’ve gone through, why don’t you tell me? I mean, I’m sure it’s just your average story of betrayal and hurt. The man you loved hurt you, didn’t he? You’re drowning your sorrows now to make up for the hurt he caused you?” He knew this situation all too well, and knew it was likely the truth for this woman as well. It didn’t matter if he was right or wrong anyway, she likely would fall off her stool and crack her skull, or pass out right there on the table if she kept drinking the way she was. Was it in his best interest to keep conversing with this woman? Could she possibly lead him to Adam or Sierra? Hell, maybe she even was Sierra and he didn’t know because he had never met his sister before. It would be ironic, to say the least, that he would meet his sister in a bar in London, completely drunk and incoherent. He saw a look in the woman’s eye that told him that there was more to her than met the eye, so he decided to stick around and try and get more out of her. He put a crisp new bill on the table. “Give her another one, I’m sure she’s got room for one more. And another beer for me, as well.” He intended to get information out of this woman, especially if she could somehow lead him to Adam or Sierra. He didn’t want to miss any opportunity that could have presented itself.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

She should have known better. She should have known that drinking wouldn't solve her problems. It wouldn't make Adam regret anything, it wouldn't make her feel better about leaving him, it wouldn't make anything better at all. It just made her feel sick. Still, Dixie's judgment was blurred at the moment. She just wanted her pain to stop, even if it was temporarily. Blinking, Dixie looked down at the empty shot glass in her hand and sighed, "I know…I…" she hiccupped, feeling shame burning deep in the pit of her stomach. Dixie closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was looking at the wooden bar top, she lifted her gaze to the bartender; "I'll take a Sprite now…" the bartender smiled and poured her a Sprite, setting a piece of lime on the rim of the glass. It wouldn't make her sober, nor would it help her think clearly, but at least she wouldn't be drinking more. That was probably the thing she needed the least. That and this pain that was clouding her mind and judgment.

Dixie shook her head when the man told the bartender to give her another one. She figured that it wouldn't be a good idea, her Sprite would have to do for now. And if she wanted to recount exactly what her problem was to this man, she would have to be able to speak accurately. She sighed heavily and took a long drink from her Sprite before trying to think of where to start. It didn't strike her funny that he wanted to hear, or that he seemed to be prying. She figured he was just being nice; and besides that fact, Dixie was always looking for someone to talk to about her problems. Either it was because she enjoyed telling about her drama, or it was because she enjoyed hearing what other people thought – different perspectives and all that. Finally, after a few beats of silence from her and enduring the loud thump of the music in the background, Dixie turned so she was facing the man, her heels clipping onto the bars of the stool she was sitting on.

"He didn't exactly hurt me. He didn't cheat on me or anything, Adam wouldn't ever do that," she smiled softly at that thought, it was simply preposterous. Dixie sighed morosely, "Though, he did betray me in a sense. I don't know. It's…" she lifted her hands and with her forefingers and middle fingers massaged her temples slowly, "complicated." Complicated didn't even begin to cover what it was. The bartender filled her Sprite again and Dixie drank from it again before continuing, "I'm 20, you know. I shouldn't have to worry about the things that I'm worrying about. I should be starting my life, not wishing to end it." She sighed again. Gods, is that all she did anymore? Dixie scratched the back of her neck and offered the man a small smile before extending her hand toward, "Dixie… Dixie Greene… I mean, Holden… I mean… well hell, I don't know what I mean." She furrowed her brow, her dark eyes looking at her pointed toe, trying to decide- who was she anymore?

For the longest time, she had been Dixie Greene – without Adam, who was she? Sure, Dixie Holden in name, but name only. She was no more a Holden than her mother was anymore, than Mackenzie was…ever. It was something she would have to figure out when she was ready. And, at any rate, her label still read "Dixie Greene." When the divorce was finalized, she would have to change it to at least "Dixie-Holden Greene." She would never be rid of Adam completely. Unfortunately. Or fortunately. It all depended on how she looked at it. "We were happy, really happy. We had been through so much. I mean…" Dixie bit her bottom lip and shrugged, "We fell in love, and then the accident happened, and then he lost his memory – and that was so hard. So…so hard on me, and on Rae, and on Adam." She probably wasn't making any sense, but she really didn't care. The man had asked.

[Derek Alsbrow]

As Derek put down the crisp new bill on the bar, he noticed that the woman was shaking her head no. She ordered a Sprite and all of a sudden, for some reason, Derek felt compassion for the woman. She was in pain, and she was just trying to drown it away. How many times had he been in a place just like this doing pretty much the same thing, but for very different reasons and under completely different circumstances? Too many for him to count. He left the money on the table, looking at the bartender. “Well you heard her. She wants a Sprite.” He glared at the man who seemed to be moving slower than he should be. He snapped his fingers at him. “Let’s go man.” Derek didn’t want to have to resort to using physical action, but the bartender was just staring at him. It was ridiculous. It became an odd situation, since Derek was sitting there right next to the woman. Silence set in, save for the chatter going on behind and around them, and the sound of the music pounding in the background of the building. Suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity of silence (and another drink for Derek later) the woman turned to him, ready to talk.

The woman described how the man that had been in her life hadn’t hurt her, and that he would never do that kind of a thing. But before Derek could listen to any more of her story, his attention was on the name of the man. Adam. The man she had been (or was still) involved with. His name was Adam. It was time to lay on the charm, do everything possible to keep any form of conversation and/or relationship with this unknown woman going. While Derek couldn’t be sure that the Adam that she was speaking of was indeed his brother from long ago, it was definitely not a dead end. It was a place to start, and start things he would definitely do. He shook his head from the mention of the name and kept listening. Betrayal. This was good. If the woman’s Adam turned out to be his brother after all, Derek would have some blackmail or at least some edge on him. She went on about how complicated the situation was. Derek took another casual swig from his second drink and looked at the woman intently. “Believe me, I can understand complicated. I’ve had a few of those myself.” He surely hadn’t, but it was all an act to try and get more information about this Adam character out of the drunk woman. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he wondered it. How much could he trust a drunk woman to be telling the truth? She had said she wasn’t that far gone, but some of her words were slurring and she must have had enough to put her down for a good night’s sleep. She said her age, and why she deserved more than this, drinking alone like this in a bar. “You should. You’re right. I’m sure you have so much more that you could be doing with your life right now. What’s holding you back?” Derek didn’t care if he got an answer, he asked the question with such a compassionate heart that the bartender probably would have cried.

She introduced herself as Dixie Greene. Greene. She changed the last name then, as if she was trying to hide the Greene name. She changed it to her maiden name, obviously. Now Derek knew that this had to be the ex-wife of his brother, Adam Greene. It was the clue he had been waiting for, and he wasn’t about to let it end there. He set his hand on her shoulder gently, as she seemed to get upset. “It’s alright, Dixie. Your first name is all that matters, right? Who cares who you were? What matters is who you are now, right?” He knew that his advice was good, maybe too good, but he had to try something to keep her talking to him while she was still conscious. He kept his hand on her shoulder, being gentle. She explained, nearly sobbing, how happy her and Adam were together. How strange this was, to have run into his brother’s ex-wife in a bar, her drinking down her sorrows and Derek was there to save her from it. Suddenly it hit Derek. That’s how he would continue to get information. He would show the young woman compassion and understanding, and if it came out eventually that he was Adam’s brother, he would lie. It was the only way to keep Dixie in the picture, and keep her feeding him information about the brother he had never known. She mentioned Adam having an accident, him losing his memory. This might be good. Did Adam even know ever that Derek was his brother? Time would tell. She mentioned another name. Rae. This would be someone he would have to ask Dixie about later.

Derek decided it was probably time for him to get Dixie out of the bar. Maybe the cool air and a ride home in a cab would clear her mind so she could give him some more information and he could find out where she lived. It was a brilliant plan and he was proud of himself for coming up with it on such short notice. “Dixie, maybe you should put the Sprite down and we’ll get out of here. I can go home with you, at least in a cab or something. I’ll even pay the fare. I want to make sure you get home okay. What do you say? We can keep talking in the car.” He whistled for the bartender, and obviously he had learned his lesson since he came over almost immediately. “You got a phone back there, big guy?” The man nodded. “Mind calling us a cab? I’m going to see this lovely woman home, make sure she doesn’t get hurt on the way.” The man pulled out a phone book and looked up the number, dialing his muggle phone from back behind the counter. “So keep talking while we wait for the cab. It’ll probably be here soon. What accident? How did Adam get hurt?” He just wanted to keep her talking so he could establish some sort of relationship with her, in order to see her again after the night was over. Derek gently pushed the hair out of Dixie’s face, seeing that she was still biting her bottom lip. He waited for her response.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

A smile, quite unlike any she had smiled in so long, curled its way over her lips as the man beside her harassed the bartender into moving faster. She didn’t step up or say anything about being nicer, it wasn't her place; and truth be told, Dix had been just like that once a while ago. She would have been a huge hypocrite if she had snapped at him and told him to play nice with the bartender. When the Sprite was safely in front of her, she picked it up and took a luxurious drink from it. Savouring the cool way it went down her throat without burning. She knew she should have started out with a Sprite or something non-alcoholic, but when she had walked in…she had been thinking one thing: how to drown away the memory of Adam. She wasn't succeeding in that, though, and Dixie just fell foolish and nauseous because of the alcohol she had used as a tool for amnesia. She couldn't win at all.

Then she talked, and talked, and as she talked, Dixie drew circles with her forefinger on top of the bar. She knew she wasn't making much sense to him, but Dixie wasn't sure if she wanted to make much more sense than she was at the moment. She lifted her brown eyes and looked at him, silently, when he asked what was holding her back. He looked like Adam. But then again, Dixie was almost completely drunk – she could be imagining it. Wishful thinking. Yes, that was what she would chalk it up to. After a moment, she blinked and then shrugged; "Nothing, really. Myself. I'm holding myself back, I suppose. I mean, Adam…Adam didn't want to be a father. True. But that didn't mean I had to leave, and destroy everything we worked for and live with my mother and practically lose my fashion company…" her eyes were out of focus, she was staring passed the man's shoulder as she thought about all of the mistakes she had made and how she probably wouldn't ever be able to fix them.

When his hand landed on her shoulder, Dixie focused her gaze back on him and sighed heavily; "I don't even know who I am as Dixie anymore. I haven't been just Dixie in forever. I was always Dixie and Adam, or Dixie Greene – fashion designer. I…haven't been able to be Dixie Holden or Dixie Whoever in years. I haven't wanted to be," she sighed and let her head fall forward, her eyes closing as she fought back the tears that were welling in them. Her hands began to shake and she clenched her fists, pushing them into her thighs as she tried to control the urge to cry right there in the bar. She had been so finished with crying. She hadn't wanted to anymore. Dixie felt like she needed to be strong for herself and for her son. Oh, Gods her son. She shouldn't be at the bar, she should be with Jamie. Mack was reliable, but she wasn't Dixie.

She breathed out slowly and unclenched her fists as she listened to him offer to take her home. That was kind of him. Problem, though. Big problem. Dixie lived in Ireland. She paused and bit her lip again, blinking as she thought of where she could go. She hadn't sold the apartment she had been living in with Mack before Adam broke up with Rae and asked her to give them another chance. Perhaps they could go there. That was in London. Of course, she hadn't lived in it in nearly 2 years so it would be a difficult task to make it appear like someone had lived there in 2 years. It was doable, though. She hired a maid to clean every week so it should look clean, at least, but there wouldn’t be in the food in the fridge. She could lie about that, at least. Say she hadn't had time to go grocery shopping lately. Bigger problem. Jamie did not exist at that apartment. There wasn't any baby…anything.

Perhaps he wouldn't notice. Or care. And this was all with the thought that he would come into the apartment, which probably wasn't likely. But Dixie didn't want to take chances. Covering up her magical life was a pain in the butt, but it was needed. She nearly jumped when he pushed her hair out of her face, but she gained her control and took another drink of her Sprite before answering his question; "Oh, uhm, we were 17 or so and we went to this Christmas party that my entire family had to attend because of work reasons. The party was held by Rae's father. Rae used to be a good friend of mine when we were like 11 until we were about 15, then we just…" she trailed off, not wanting to reveal her insanity, "fell out, I suppose. Drifted apart. Anyway, Rae hated those parties and she recruited us to go with her to some club – not this one, Rizzo's I think." Dixie looked away, remembering everything so clearly. She and Adam dancing, Rae drinking and drinking; then them leaving, Adam driving, Rae causing the accident, Adam…in a coma. Dixie blinked as tears started to fall from her eyes and she turned back to the man and continued the story, weakly; "Uh…Rae had too much to drink, far more than me at this moment, I think. Adam and I didn't drink. We were too smart to drink.

"Adam offered to drive, but Rae wasn't too happy about that. And while he and I were talking, Rae leant forward and tried to change the station – clumsily. She got in the way and caused Adam to drive off the road, into a tree…" Dixie looked down at her feet again, "Adam was in a coma for months. From December to February. When he woke up, he didn't remember anything past the age of 15. I was a stranger to him. He couldn't remember anything about me."

[Derek Alsbrow]

Derek knew exactly what he was getting himself into. Was he ready for it, though? The more he talked to Dixie, the more he knew that he would want to see her again not only to get more information out of her. Of course it would start out that way. But he knew feelings might start to emerge, because this woman had been so hurt by the life that she had gone through with his brother, and she didn’t even know that Derek was related to Adam. Part of him wanted to show her that someone of the same bloodline could be completely different, but at the same time, Derek wasn’t sure the woman next to him would trust that quickly. He had to keep his identity a secret, at least for now. If Dixie found out that Derek was Adam’s long lost brother, she wouldn’t give him anymore information that he needed, and he might lose her forever. He had to lie. It was the only way he could protect Dixie, and himself.

Derek watched closely as she talked, explaining things about her life now. She seemed to have a habit of drawing circles on the bar. It was a subconscious thing obviously, and Derek did his best to pay attention, but Dixie’s body language said enough, on top of what she was talking about. She was hurt, so very hurt. Then the word came. Father. Adam had had a child with Dixie? This was a new development, and something he could definitely use. But as soon as his mind drifted from that immediate thought, he felt compassion for the woman again. Had she lost the baby? Or did she still have the child, and Adam wasn’t anywhere to help her take care of it? Derek couldn’t help but take another swig from his third beer. This would be his last, because the cab would be outside soon. Listening to Dixie be confused about who she even was anymore was hard. Derek had grown up not knowing who he was for the longest time, and now he was on a search that would change him once again. She fell softly against him, and Derek did the only thing he could think to do: he put his hand on the back of her head, calming her. She was fighting back tears, he could tell.

It was like she was trying to be strong so that she didn’t look weak in front of everyone at the bar, in front of Derek. He didn’t care. He wanted her to be able to be open around him. But they had just met, how would she put that much trust in someone she had just met? It was literally impossible. She seemed to be listening as he offered to take her home with the cab. Of course it was already on its way, and with her being so tipsy, he wouldn’t let her go home alone. Derek had no intention of trying any funny business with her. All he wanted was to get her home safely and protect Dixie. She began to tell the story of Adam’s accident, which he would need to know, in case there was any way that he ran into the man. He needed to know as much about the man as possible before he met him. The story unfolded, and Derek could completely see where it was going. It was a tragic story, and Derek couldn’t believe Dixie was still fighting through things even to this day. He put his hand on her shoulder again. “It’s okay, Dixie. I’m sorry for asking. It’s got to be hard. Let’s get you out of here, shall we?” He took her Sprite from her hands, placing it on the bar. He pulled a last bill out of his pocket and handed it to the bartender. “That’ll be all for us.” The bartender nodded, and Derek led Dixie out to the street.

Taking off his cloak, he wrapped her up in it, since it was a bit windy. The weather had been quite drastic as of late, so it was still nippy outside, but Derek didn’t need a jacket. The cab pulled up right next to them and he let Dixie climb in quietly, as he followed. “Where are we going?” he asked Dixie quickly. Getting a quick answer, he told the driver, and the man nodded as Derek pulled the door shut. “Here, lean up against me. We don’t need to talk, you’ve said plenty tonight. Let’s just get you home.” Derek knew that he should pick one path or the other. Either be there for Dixie 100% or just use her for information. But he was playing both sides, and so far he was winning, so what was the harm? They drove on, and Derek just looked at Dixie, wondering what kind of thoughts were going on in the woman’s mind.

[Dixie Holden-Greene]

How did she get into the cab?

Dixie blinked and looked around her as the man she had been sitting with at the bar asked where they were going. Where were they going? She blinked again and said with a thick tongue, plagued with fatigue and nausea, "Oh…uh…84 Brickstone Road," she hoped to the Gods that was the correct address. She couldn't think straight, and she didn't want to think straight. It was as if all that happened in the bar had completely left her mind. She couldn't remember what she had said, what he had said. Had he even told her his name? Dixie was too tired to really care at the moment, although she probably should have. She had just given a complete stranger her address. Though, if you thought about it, one gave their address to a complete stranger whenever they used a taxi. And, really, it wasn't her actual address, was it? "Wh…why are you being so nice to me?" She whispered as she willingly leant against him, for once in the past 4 months feeling at ease with herself, feeling as if she wasn't alone in the world any longer. "I…" Dixie sighed heavily and closed her eyes, not really wanting to talk anymore but feeling as if there was so much left unsaid that she needed to say. "Need to get home to Jamie…but…no, Jamie's not at home. Mack has him." She was babbling now, from exhaustion, depression, and being absolutely drunk; but Dixie figured if this man (if he was really a man and not a mere figment of her imagination) had been willing to sit through and listen to her go on and on about Adam and her woes, he could deal with a bit of babbling.

How Dixie was thinking so clearly, so logically, was something that she wouldn’t ever really understand. She was always levelheaded, someone who knew what she should and shouldn't be doing and how to get back on track if she had derailed herself. Rae had been the spontaneous one, the one who didn't care about how things turned out – Dixie had always needed structure in her life. In order to get that structure, that certainty, Dixie had to be levelheaded and ready for anything that came her way. She handled things with a grace that was shocking to see someone possess. But with what she had been through, it was necessary. Dixie breathed in deeply, slightly enjoying the man's scent, but not really thinking about the fact that it made her stomach churn, and then she opened her eyes to peer outside the window as the city rolled by. It felt so familiar, and so welcome, and for a moment Dixie wanted to tell the driver to take her to Derreck's mansion - just to feel those childhood memories wash over her, but she knew that wouldn't be a good idea. Especially if Derreck ended up being there. Dixie was afraid of her own father. How pathetic was that? Not nearly as pathetic as the fact that Dixie hadn't felt safe once since she had left Adam. He had been the one person she felt could protect her from her father, from her own mind, and she had left him. How stupid was she? Very.

Without really realising it, Dixie started to cry – her eyelids dropping shut and her head falling forward a bit. She wasn't shaking with tremors from the tears, but they were forming in small pools. She was crying silently, a dignified sort of cry that a very mature woman would cry only if dealing with the hardest moments in her life. In a way, this was the hardest moments of Dixie's life. She had never felt so alone, so unsafe, and so disconnected from the world in her life. And it was all because she was no longer a part of that couple she had moulded herself to fit perfectly into. It was her decision. And she was regretting it greatly. She knew she needed to move on, but she just couldn't bring herself to get over the pain before she could move on. Dixie wanted Adam back, but she felt – deep down – that getting him back wasn't going to be easy, or welcomed, or possible at all. So why dream about it? Why try? While Dixie was crying, the taxi pulled up to her building. It took her a moment to realise it had stopped and she was to get out, and when she did – she fumbled with the door handle – growing frustrated by the fact that she couldn't get the damn door open.

She would never drink again.

Dixie stepped out onto the sidewalk, her stiletto heels clicking with that familiar and comforting sound as she righted herself and pulled herself up. With deft fingers, she pulled the man's cloak (A cloak? Dixie vaguely registered) from around her small frame and handed it to him with a grateful smile, tears still in her brown eyes: "Thank you." What else was she supposed to say? What did one say to a stranger who had just listened to you pour your heart and soul out about your past, your woes, and your failures? Dixie hadn't ever been placed in this situation before, but she was finding that she was handling things with an ease that had always come natural to her; "Goodnight, sir." And with that, she closed the taxi cab door gently and walked – quite steadily – toward her flat building and let herself in with the passcode she hadn't ever forgotten.

She was home. Somewhat.

End of Thread.