STORY: Adjustments, part 7 of ? (It's a long one LOL) FANDOM: Remember WENN AUTHOR: Michele Savage (1998) RATING: NC-17, M/F, hurt/comfort SUMMARY: After Hilary is brutally attacked and left for dead, she and Jeff have some healing to do. SETTING: 1942, Pittsburgh FEEDBACK: Would be muchly appreciated. :-) ARCHIVE: Hetsketeers. (anywhere else, let me know before archiving please.), Sockii, this can be archived at Rest Is Silence too. :-) DISCLAIMER: Remember WENN and its characters are copyright Rupert Holmes, Howard Meltzer and AMC. No infringement is intended. The story is mine as are any original characters. She dug through the different gown sets that Jeff had brought from home and ultimately settled on the one Mary had bought her. It was a pearl white satin Greek styled gown with a band of red separating the bodice from the skirt. It looked more like an evening gown rather than a nightgown. The robe that went over it was equally dressy. It was of the same satin material, though used as an underlining for a soft sheer lace that was gathered at the waistline and belted with red satin. Picking up the gown, she walked into the bathroom and began to change. She turned on the light and noticed her reflection. It was getting easier to look at her own face in the mirror. Those first couple weeks when she needed to come in here, she left the light off. She hadn't wanted to see the visible evidence of what he'd done to her. Now she wanted to see, she was ready. The bruises were gone, but the memory lingered. Her face was a little pale, Hilary thought as she rubbed her hand across the cheek where the man had hit her. She untied the belt on the worn robe she wore and slipped it off her shoulders. She drew the wide straps of the gown down her arms and let it fall to the floor. Hilary now stood in front of the mirror nude with the exception of her panties. The cut on her chest had for the most part healed. It was still pink, especially near the bottom of her ribcage where it had been stitched. She traced the pink areas with her fingers. So close to the baby, she thought, so close. She started to move her right hand over her stomach, but winced as the pain took hold. She closed her eyes and squelched the frustration that gripped her every time she tried to do a simple task and felt pain. "Damn him!" Hilary glanced at her shoulder wounds and with a cold sickening realization, noticed how close the first one was to her throat. If her head had been turned or her neck had been angled just barely an inch--"stop it, Hilary," she told herself, "There are enough horrible images, you don't need to add ones that don't exist!" Shaking the thoughts off as much as the pain would allow, Hilary touched the healing stab wounds and wondered how badly they would scar. She'd always been proud of her appearance; she worked very hard to keep her skin flawless. But now--. Most of her evening gowns were, if not strapless, sleeveless. She'd have to replace all her evening wear. Would Jeffrey look at her differently? She knew that he loved her body. He loved to touch her. Dimly she noticed she was thinking in past tense. Would she be able to let him touch her? Make love to her? She couldn't stand the thought of losing the physical closeness. She needed his touch as much as she needed air. She gently skimmed her left hand over her body. Trying to fight the memory flashes it caused. She had to get re-accustomed to even touching herself. She drew the hand over her breast ignoring the memories. Think of Jeffrey, she told herself, think of what it felt like when he caressed you. The most vivid part of her attacker that she remembered, that she kept seeing in dreams, were his hands. Even now as she moved over her own body, she couldn't keep the thought of his hands roughly pawing at her at bay. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her husband's hands. He had large hands like her attacker did, but that was where the similarities ended. Jeffrey's hands were delicate, his fingers long and slender. He had a tender touch. She tried to remember the feel of his fingertips trailing over her collar bone. The way he could hold her breasts in the palms of his hands and tease her nipples with his thumbs. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the fantasy, disallowing any bad memories to filter through. She needed desperately to know that Jeffrey could touch her in those ways again. As she fantasized, Hilary moved her arms and a shot of pain rudely pulled her back into the present. "Damn." She mumbled. She gave up on the direction her thoughts had taken and as quickly as she could manage, put the clean dressier gown and robe on. She picked up the brush to run through her hair when she caught the flush on her skin in the reflection. She smiled at the knowledge that thoughts of sex with Jeff could still arouse her. Honestly, that meant more than regaining full use of her right arm. Brushing her hair with her left arm was awkward, and Hilary wanted badly to look good tonight for Jeff. She decided to call Ellen and ask if she'd help. Ellen had quickly agreed and soon had her hair neatly styled. She also said that the driver had gone to get the food and would be back at any moment. Hilary looked at the time and realized that Jeff himself was probably on his way. Ellen left promising she'd send the food in as soon as it arrived. Hilary checked the room, wanting everything to be perfect. The knock on the door caused her to jump, but she realized it was probably the food. She opened it and let the man in. He was loaded down with bags, and she offered to take what she could in only one arm. She showed him the table and he set his cargo down. As he set up the dishes, Hilary abruptly realized that she'd never seen him before and suddenly felt self conscious and a little scared. She backed away slightly then chided herself. *Stop it Hilary, you can't react this way to every strange man you see!* "Is that all you needed, Ma'am?" he spoke, startling her. "Huh ... uh ... yes. Yes, I'm sorry." She stammered, "That is plenty, thank you for going to the trouble." "It's no problem, all a part of my job." He nodded slightly and left the room. She took a second to recover herself, before lighting the candles and making sure everything looked all right. She took another glance at her appearance in the mirror and smiled. Perfect. She briefly thought that she should be wearing her sling, but, no. She wanted no reminders of where she was, or why, tonight. As she started to sit in the chair by the window, she heard Jeff's two knock rapping at the door before he entered. She stood straight and waited. He walked to the table, noticing the set up and the food. He looked up at her and smiled. "You're beautiful." He walked around the table to get closer to her. "Do you still think so," she whispered, more of her fear coming out then she'd intended. He cupped her chin, "Oh Mittens, you'll always be beautiful to me." She lifted her left arm to her shoulder, "Even with--" "Yes darling, even with the scars." He assured, "They tell me that you are alive." "But you haven't seen them." She said, "They'll be a constant reminder." "I love you Hilary." Jeff assured, "No amount of anything will change that." He leaned slightly and kissed her. When she didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss savoring the taste of her that he'd missed. He fought back the tears of joy when he felt her wrap her left arm around his shoulder, and slowly ease her right around his waist. He reluctantly broke the kiss and embraced her tightly. "We'll get through this, sweetheart," he promised her, "I know that with certainty." She pulled away, flinching at the painful sensation it caused. Jeff took her hands in his and with a grin let the moment pass for the time being. "I smell food. Why don't we eat it before they realize we have a meal that isn't bland." Hilary laughed and let him seat her, grateful for the diversion. He helped her uncover her meal, then sat and uncovered his own dish. They ate, discussing everyday things and joking about names for the baby. Once the meal was finished Jeff cleared the dishes, putting them back into the bags so he could carry them down to the nurses station and let Ellen take care of them. While he was there, Ellen informed him that she'd talked to Mary who'd arrived an hour late, and bought them the rest of the night for privacy. He thanked her and went back to the room. When he returned and closed the door, Hilary was standing near the window with her back to him. He noticed that she'd removed the robe and only wore the gown. He realized that this was the first time he'd seen her in only the gown from this set. "Darling?" He questioned softly, noticing that she jumped at the sound of his voice. She turned slowly, "I wanted you to see." She nudged the strap off her shoulder, taking care to keep it from falling too far. "Are you sure," he asked, not stepping closer. He advanced carefully when she nodded. He knew that she was completely opening her vulnerabilities to him, something she rarely did even in normal situations. It was then that he understood just how completely she trusted him and how important his acceptance was to her. He stopped just in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers. She took his hand in hers, the fallen strap now free fell further exposing her right breast. She moved the sore arm halfheartedly to hold the material, but at this point she didn't care. He'd seen her before and all she wanted to know was that he wouldn't turn away from her. She lay his hand on her shoulder and with her eyes pleaded with him to look. Jeff looked at her scars, careful to keep his expression neutral. She had nothing to worry about, he knew, but he wanted to let her know. He let his thumb wander across the still pink wounds. He drew his hand closer to her neck softly tracing the hollow of her throat. He knew how close he'd come to losing her for good. He looked back to her face and saw that she was silently crying. He brushed the tears away and kissed her forehead. She took the hand from her cheek into hers placed a kiss on his palm. "Have I ever told you how much I love your hands," she said quietly. She bent her right arm at the elbow so she could more easily cover the hand she held. She sandwiched his hand straight between hers, "They are so tender and loving." He moved his other hand to cover hers and she looked into his eyes, "And gentle when you touch me." She saw all the love and need and trust she ever wanted in his eyes just then. She decided to take it one step further, giving in to what they both needed, "Pumpkin, I want you to touch me. Nothing more, I don't think I'm ready for that," she clarified, "I just need to know that I can still let you hold me." Jeff closed his eyes to the onslaught of emotions he was suddenly feeling. "Mittens, you have no idea what this means to me." "Yes I do, my love." She shrugged completely out of the gown and let the satin pool around her feet, "Yes I do." Jeff bent to pick her up and carried her to the bed. He covered her and removed his own clothing with the exception, like her, of his briefs. He wanted her to know in that way, that he would abide by the boundaries she had set. He slid under the covers and gathered her into his arms, her back against his chest. He whispered in her ear, "I won't do anything unless you want it. Just holding you against me like this is enough." "I want to be able to see your face." She admitted quietly. "All right," Jeff said. He left the bed, walked around and got back into it, facing her. "There. Is that better?" She nodded, "Would you hold me," she asked, "Just hold me, right now." He moved up slightly and pulled her against him, letting her head fit into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his legs through hers, puling her as close to him as he could. "You know, they definitely didn't make these beds for two people." He deadpanned and smiled when she laughed. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Hilary rolled to her back and moved over so Jeff had more room on his side. "Touch me," she implored. "Where," he asked, letting her keep control. "Anywhere, everywhere." She held his gaze and said, "I need to be able to replace bad memories with good. Memories of his hands, with yours." "If that's what you want." Jeff said and leaned to press a kiss against her lips. He moved his hand over her collar bone, and over her shoulders. Feeling her tense when he passed over the scars, he stopped, "Are you all right?" "Yes," she assured through tears, "Please don't stop." "Sweetheart if-- you'll tell me if it becomes too much, won't you?" he asked, hoping she wasn't forcing herself to endure his touch because she felt that he needed it. "I am doing this for you, Hilary. You're not doing it for me." "I'm okay Jeffrey," she reassured, "It isn't going to be easy, but I am doing this for both of us." She curled her arm around his shoulder blade. "I will let you know if the wrong memory surfaces, then you can help replace it." Jeff nodded and wiped a stray tear away from her cheek. Gently, he eased back into touching her. He let his fingers drift down the valley between her breasts and traced the long scar there. He moved a hand to gently cover her breast and paused when she stiffened. "Hon?" "Just caress me the way you always do." She requested. He lay his head against hers, "I love you, Hilary." Knowing she needed to hear endearments as well. He continued his tender ministrations across her upper body. Eliciting, he was glad to hear, a sigh from her lips every so often. Growing bolder as she grew more aroused, he let his hand drift downwards toward the elastic band of her panties. Barely slipping his fingers beneath, he asked, "Is this okay?" "Yes." She replied, desire heavy in her voice. "Jeffrey, I want more than your hands." He kissed her deeply and then softly answered, "Not tonight, not here." He saw the disappointment in her eyes, but also he saw understanding. He slid his hand further beneath the band and watched her face as he drew his middle finger through the folds of the sensitive skin. She closed her eyes and her brows briefly furrowed as he assumed another memory crossed into mind. He whispered loving words to her as he slowly brought her to climax. She threw her head back and quietly called his name as the orgasm worked through her body. He didn't stop tormenting her with his finger until he was certain the moment had completely passed. She opened her eyes and looked at him, surprised to see tears. "Thank you." "For what," he questioned. "For saying no." "Darling I would give you the moon, but only when it was appropriate." Jeff responded, "I knew you weren't ready and it was just your desire speaking." She rolled and cuddled close to him, "We're going to be all right. All three of us." After some moments of silent reflection, she giggled. "We should probably get dressed. I wouldn't want to shock the nurses." Jeff chuckled and left the bed long enough to hand Hilary her gown. He helped her put it on, then said, "I'll be back in a minute. I want to take a shower and get my night clothes on." He kissed her once again and walked into the bathroom. Hilary lay and thought over the evening. She was very glad that she'd been able to let Jeff love her like that. When flashes of her attack had appeared, she looked at him and concentrated on what his hands were doing. It helped. She knew then that they could recapture at least some of their sexual relationship. Jeff leaned against the bathroom door. Saying 'no' to her had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, but, he knew it wouldn't have been right. Not in a hospital and not this soon. He was afraid she'd pushed herself too far already, but seeing the look of want for him in her eyes had always been his undoing. Maybe they were on their way to again finding, not only their relationship, but the peace of mind she needed. He turned on the shower and stood under the warm water, letting it drown the ardor he still felt. He washed, dried, and put on his pajamas. Once he felt ready to rejoin her he left the bathroom. He walked to the wall and started to unfold the cot he'd been sleeping on when Hilary spoke up, "Please sleep with me." "Is there room, miss bed hog," he asked using one of their old road jokes. So adopted because nine times out of ten in a train or a single bed room, he ended up in the floor. She laughed, "I will make room for you." He walked over to the bed and slid in again, in front of her where she could see him. He kissed her, told her he loved her and gathered her closely. "Go to sleep now, Mittens." He watched over her until he was sure she'd gone to sleep. Jeff then closed his own eyes and went to sleep with the scent of her hair in every breath he took. For the first time in over a month, they both slept peacefully. to be continued.... Biz