Fic: RPF: You Look Great When I’m F**ked Up (3/10).

[x_moonshine_x]

Title: You Look Great When I’m F**ked Up (3/10).
Author: x_moonshine_x
Pairing: Rupert/Emma.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person fiction, lots of angst, depressed!Emma, off the rails!Emma.
Word count: 2,246.
Summary: After a hard day filming, Rupert offers to take a battered and bruised Emma home, ending up with a little more than he bargained for when they get there. On the face of it, it all seems pretty simple, they’ve wanted each other for years, surely this is normal. But, unfortunately, he soon learns that there’s more going on than meets the eye and he's not entirely sure if he's the one Emma should be turning to.
Other Chapters: Here.

You Look Great When I’m F**ked Up
Chapter 3

Beneath the cloak of darkness, Emma’s hand slid over the wall, hunting desperately for the light switch. She didn’t exactly find it easily and when her fingertips finally came into contact, she tripped over the welcome matt and hit the floor instead of carrying out her desired task.

‘Crap,’ she muttered under her breath, scrambling back to her feet. ‘Idiot…’

By the time she succeeded and tossed her coat and bag down onto the chair beside the door, she felt completely worn out and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. But a hard weekend of partying had taken its toll, smudged eyeliner and tangled hair greeting her as she glanced in the mirror. More than anything, she needed a hot shower and a cup of tea.

She made her way upstairs slowly, shedding clothing as she went, tossing the garments aside with disregard.

Her feet hurt, her eyes were stinging, and above all else, she had a headache she couldn’t shift. Since leaving the club on Saturday night, there had been a constant buzzing in her ears. She honestly felt as though someone had set up home there with a pneumatic drill and as far as she could tell, they had no plans to move on anytime soon.

Closing her eyes once she reached the bathroom and the water began to run, Emma let go of the breath she’d been holding and leant against the shower cubicle door, waiting for it to heat up. She could have slept forever if she crawled into bed.

Two minutes later, she closed the door behind her and leant into the stream of water, letting it cascade over her, pulling her under. Her thoughts were a muddle of ‘whys’ and ‘what fors’, a spider web of contradictions. For the first time all weekend, she’d actually come to a complete stand still and this had, unfortunately, given her the time to realise the sheer intensity of what had happened.

She couldn’t get that last look Rupert had given her out of her head. Whether it was one of disappointment or sympathy or even disgust she didn’t know, but either way, his expression threatened to haunt her dreams.

Opinions aside though, they’d slept together, fact, something neither one of them could deny.

No, actually, they’d done more than just sleep together and the way he’d looked at her afterwards made her sick to the stomach. Why did she have to go and mess it all up? She said she regretted it, she told herself the same, not wanting to stand for his behaviour (hers wasn’t important). Yet, for the first time in months, she actually felt… something.

She felt alive. She felt exhilarated. She felt everything that had been missing from her life lately and Rupert was to thank for that.

It wasn’t right though, none of it was.

Sinking down onto the floor of the cubicle, Emma drew an extremely shaky breath. She could feel her cool evaporating away as the seconds went by, hands trembling as she tangled them into her saturated hair. The water continued to cascade over her, scolding droplets in their hundreds battering her skin. But she could no longer feel them. Once again, she was slipping back into the void and she had no idea how to stop it.

She dropped her head down onto folded arms, body now curled up into a ball. Tears spilled down her cheeks, one after the other and she could taste them on her lips, salty and real. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying, she just hoped that some day soon, it would stop hurting again...

~ * ~

Passing through the kitchen, Rupert reached for a piece of toast from the rack, taking a bite before murmuring, ‘Thanks!’

Charlotte shot him a look of disgust from behind her glass of orange juice. He merely grinned back.

Already this morning, he was running late. He needed to be at Leavesden in around fifteen minutes and knew for a fact, the drive always took him half an hour. He could floor it he supposed, but at the end of the day, he’d rather David yell at him than risk writing off his car by driving like a lunatic. The general consensus would be the same. So, decision made, and what did an extra five minutes matter in the grand scheme of things?

‘What time are you set to finish tonight?’

He looked up from the juice he’d managed to spill all over himself while pouring and shrugged, grabbing a cloth. ‘Eight I think,’ he answered. ‘But knowing David, it’ll probably run over until nine at least. So I’m not entirely sure.’ He took a drink and then added, ‘I’ll grab something to eat on the way home,’ because he knew that was what his mother would be so desperate to know.

Smiling, Jo shook her head, vigorously buttering a piece of bread and then reaching for the jam. ‘Text me if you change your mind and I can leave you something in the oven, your dad won’t be back until late either,’ she told him.

Regarding her with a smile a moment, Rupert leant down to give her a quick kiss. ‘See you later, mum,’ he said softly. He then turned his attention to Charlotte, giving her a squeeze and kissing her loudly on the top of her head. ‘You too, Charlie.’

Ten minutes later and well on his way to the studios; he flicked his iPod on, classic rock flooding the car and pulsing through his veins.

Just what he needed to get him there.

His tardiness this morning had been brought on by a bad nights sleep. Jo didn’t know, telling his mother would only cause unnecessary worry, so he kept quiet. In fact, he’d not slept well all weekend; since leaving Emma on Saturday morning, his head had been all over the place. Mostly he was concerned for her and what with her behaviour not exactly being something he had any experience dealing with he panicked, he ran. He wasn’t about to deny it. Now he had to face up to the consequences of course, something he definitely wasn’t looking forward to.

By the time he pulled into the car park, time had run away from him and he had to race over to the costume department.

Sure enough, he got a bollocking the moment he got there, and that was being polite.

As soon as the girls from costume were done stringing him up he headed on over to set. On his walk there, Rupert caught sight of both Emma and Dan stood not far from the canteen chatting. Well, Dan was talking, Emma just looked harassed, her face flushed and obviously determined to look anywhere but at him.

As he approached, he caught to tail end of what Dan was saying, his voice carrying on the light breeze.

‘…need another hour in make-up I’d say.’ A snort of laughter followed. ‘Morning, Rupe!’

Coming to a stop beside them, hands stuffed unceremoniously into his pockets, Rupert kept his gaze on Emma. He’d not seen her look that awkward for quite some time, not to mention sick. Her eyes were dull and ringed with red, her lips cracked and the tiniest bit blue.

‘Morning,’ he muttered eventually, not bothering to mask his yawn. There would be no point, they were all tired.

‘I was just saying that Emma looks like she could do with another hour in make-up,’ reinstated Dan, chortling playfully as he tugged on the hem of his jumper. ‘Not seen her looking that rough in a while.’

Apparently having had enough now, Emma corrected him, ‘I haven’t been into make-up yet… and I can hear you, you know.’

‘Yeah, mate, you should probably--’

‘And I don’t need you defending me either!’

His knight in shining amour routine was cut short by her bad mood and she was staring him down now, her jaw set at an odd angle.

Shortly afterwards she span on her heel and they were left to their thoughts, Dan’s not daring to stay in his head for more than a second longer than needed. ‘Christ, I hope she’s not like that all day. I can deal with PMT Emma, but that – that – is nothing like her,’ he said. ‘She’s vicious.’

Sighing lightly, Rupert shook his head and raked his hands through his hair. Another moment of this and he’d be close to tearing it out. ‘She probably had a bad weekend or… something.’

Dan’s eyebrows shot up. He’d said too much.

‘Oh, you know something!’ He’d started walking for the set, but Dan was hot on his heels like an insistent puppy, desperate to gossip. ‘Come on, Rupe, we’re all friends here.’

‘I don’t. I don’t know anything.’ When in doubt, lie. ‘And if I did, who says Emma would even want you knowing?’

‘We’re friends, of course she would.’

This meant she really wouldn’t, so Rupert ignored him and carried on into the building, walking through the winding corridors. From past experience, he knew not to pry when Emma wasn’t particularly chirpy and whether it was his fault or not, he knew she wouldn’t want either of them bothering her.

In fact, her bad mood went on well into the week and he became more reluctant to approach her. They needed to talk, but finding the right moment was proving difficult. If Emma noticed him come within five foot of her off set, she would immediately strike up a conversation with the person stood closest to her. On more than one occasion she’d done a sudden about turn and headed back the way she’d come, even if it was the last place she needed to be.

The effort she went to to ignore him was verging on astronomical.

Finally, around lunchtime on Thursday, Rupert found her sat alone in the canteen with nought but a bottle of water and an apple for company. He approached the table slowly, hesitantly, praying that for the first time in four days she wouldn’t bolt the second she set eyes on him.

‘Hey, mind if I sit down?’ he asked when she didn’t make an immediate dash for the door.

Her only response was a shrug, so he did just that, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table and casually reaching out for the ketchup bottle sat there. He needed to do something with his hands, even if it was something completely ridiculous. Idly beginning to pick at the label, he exhaled loudly through his nose and then murmured, ‘I’m sorry for--’

‘Don’t apologise,’ Emma cut across him. ‘I probably had it coming after the way I behaved.’

‘No… you didn’t, Em. Not in the slightest.’ He drew a breath, his teeth gazing his lower lip as he considered what to say next. ‘I know I’m not the best conversationalist in the world, but if you ever need to talk to me… I’m here, you know. Anytime, anywhere, it’s cool.’

Very briefly, her gaze settled on his face, the ghost of a smile playing about her features. ‘Cool, huh?’ she repeated.

Rupert nodded and returned the smile, supplying a casual, ‘Yeah…’

‘OK, cool.’

She laughed and he soon joined in, his anxieties ebbing away as they fell into something that felt oh so natural. He’d missed this. Simply enjoying her company, it didn’t happen anymore. There were too many other people getting in the way all of the time. The other night hadn’t really been normal for them, Emma was too vulnerable for it to constitute as reality.

‘Can we not talk about…? Well, you know,’ she said then, pretty much reading his mind as he set the ketchup down again. ‘I just – I want to get back to normal again and that was--’

‘Weird?’ he questioned uneasily.

As her gaze settled on his face, Emma lifted her shoulders in a shrug, obviously having trouble expressing what she wanted to say. ‘Not weird,’ she argued weakly. ‘Bad timing, me being stupid and selfish maybe… I don’t know, I shouldn’t have dragged you into that.’

If there was one thing Rupert couldn’t stand, it was listening to Emma put herself down. Whatever was going on in her life right now, she didn’t need to degrade herself with unfeeling and unkind words. At the end of the day she was only human – like they all were – and she could make mistakes, too.

‘You didn’t,’ he protested, inching his hand forwards in what he hoped was a kind gesture, but she backed off pretty quickly. His hid his disappointment quickly. ‘You didn’t drag me into anything.’

‘I thought we weren’t going to talk about this?’ She laughed, although it was forced and lacked feeling. Her voice was void of emotion now.

‘Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but you started it,’ he argued.

A moment later he got up from his seat, figuring there wasn’t much else he could say to help the situation. They’d only end up in an argument and that wouldn’t do anyone any good in the long run. He had offered his support and for now, that was all he could do.

Rupert sighed very lightly, looking down at her. ‘I’ll see you on set then…’ he offered politely.

Her response ended up just as polite, eyes settling on his face for the briefest of glances as she said, ‘Yeah, I’ll see you.’

.x.