Drunken and Damaged

The trip had been successful. There were no traces of splinching by either party and the Eau had landed right outside his magical barriers. Waving his arm nonchalantly, the former Eau disarmed the forces keeping out intruders and started his way into the shack. There was no mistaking the shack as it was. No charms had been put on the place to change the appearance so it was uninviting. The shack was truly a broken down version of the former home. The werewolves those many years ago had done quite a number on the visage of the building. The insides matched, but only somewhat.

"Here we are." Jacques had forgone the couch and brought Armelle straight into the master bedroom. He had redone the house only slightly and had claimed that one as his own. The insides were still in shambles, but the bed was warm and comforting enough. The other rooms, save his former room which was now the one he retreated to to transform, were all the same. His former bedroom was worse off than the rest of the house, however. The cracks and split wood in every other room did not compare to the transformation room covered in rags, animal blood, and claw marks.

The former Eau tossed Armelle to the bed, lighter than he would have tossed something inanimate, but a toss nonetheless. "I'm going to get you some coffee or a lame potion or something." Parting the room, Jacques went to rummage for the coffee machine or a potion he may have saved. He never did well in potions and he doubted the application of a blow torch would sober Armelle.

The drunken form of Armelle Champney was not impressed at all by the fashion in which she was carried. There were better ways, surly, but instead of being cradled in Jacques’ arms Armelle found herself slung over his shoulder like a rag doll. There was little she could do to change her position however, so her only choice was to stick it out until they reached his house.

Soon the suffocating feeling of apparition was gone and she could feel her body swaying with the movement of everyone of Jacques’ steps. After reaching what looked to be that master bedroom, the girl was tossed onto the bed. “Why so rough Jax?” It was all she could do not to mutter more things of a sexual nature in her drunken state but she figured that with their past it wouldn’t be such a bright idea. Jacques had muttered something about finding coffee or a potion to help and Armelle prayed for her sake that it was coffee that he found. Jax wasn’t really known for his potions skills.

The bed she laid in was so very comfy and Armelle was glad for that. It meant that Jacques had at least one thing to comfort him. Unfortunately the dress that the girl had opted to wear that night was starting to act too clingy and itchy. She needed something to change into and in her clouded mind it seemed absolutely okay to borrow one of her friend’s shirts. So she struggled her way out of bed and made her way over to an old wardrobe. Inside she found a very comfy white cotton tee.

She leisurely dressed, not really caring if Jacques came in and found her or not before she made her way back onto the bed. Even though because of Jax’s stature the shirt seemed to be another dress on Armelle, the way she was laying on the bed caused the shirt to ride up so that you could see just a hint of her blue silk panties.

Out in his pathetic excuse for a kitchen, the former Eau had somehow managed to find his old coffee maker. The thing hadn't been used as Jacques was typically not around to partake in the caffeinated beverage. Alas, there was still a bag of aged beans in the cabinets that were usually left bare. Jacques' tastes had changed and most of his meat was kept in the fridge. Grinding them with his fist, Jacques threw the beans into the machine and sat on the counter, something that caused quite the creak, while it percolated. Slowly, the machine dripped into the large glass basin at the bottom while the distinct smells started to fill the small abode.

Enough time had passed that the man could procure a mug for Armelle without having under brewed coffee. Shuffling in another unused cabinet, the werewolf found a clinking collection of mugs with various shapes and pictures on them. They were mostly of a Muggle assortment, considering they were his mother's, so he picked one with a picture of Garfield on it for Armelle's drink. The cartoon cat always seemed to thrill Nicole, but that time was past. Jacques had numbed significantly.

Pouring the steaming black beverage, Jacques felt the temperature increase in his hand but ignored it. His transformation from human to halfbreed caused him to not feel pain as much as he might have in the past, which may have accounted for his new found sadism. Either way, it didn't matter as long as he indeed was himself. Insisting that Armelle drink the beverage black, or simply not having the tact to realize her tastes may be more sensitive than his, the man started back towards his bedroom with the cup piping.

Upon entering the room, with the door only at a crack, the first thing the former Eau saw was a discarded dress and he braced himself for full frontal nudity. Yet, he was spared as Armelle had jacked one of his more comfortable shirts. The man himself had not had a chance to change, but that was of minor importance currently. "Here, Ellie. Drink this." Jacques sat down on the bed next to her, handing her the mug. A glimpse downward allowed him to catch the shimmer of blue from under the shirt she was donning, yet he resisted any doglike urges.

Eventually as time passed, Jax came back with a steaming cup of coffee. She giggled when she recognized the cartoon figure’s head that her cup was shaped in. It probably had belonged to Jacques’ younger sister Nicole, Gentry rest her soul.

The intoxicated young woman was able to raise herself up enough to take the mug and try and sip the contents. “Too hot” was her slurred response and she placed the mug on the bedside table. “Lay with me Jacques, I’m getting tired.” It was the truth, she was tired but she didn’t want to deprive him of the bed. It’s not like it was a big deal to share a bed, they had, after all, shared so much more in the past. Armelle wasn’t going to let him resist either.

Once they were both comfortable and Armelle was nicely snuggled into his warm chest the redhead’s eyes started to close. She wasn’t ready to sleep yet. First she needed to know something. “Jax, baby, are you taking care of yourself? Do you have what you need for the full moon?”

It was blunt but she needed to know. Never had she ever stopped worrying about him, but he just pushed her away. She had let him, but those things didn’t stop her from reaching out now. They called it liquid courage for a reason. It would just break her heart to find out that he was using stuff brewed by a person who was just in it for profit and didn’t care for him at all. Armelle always though that if something was brewed with love, it would be a whole lot more effective.

She wasn't going to sober herself. Jacques couldn't object. He had done so much in the past that she had objected to and simply ignored her imploring speeches and begging tones. Lying back awkwardly, the man let Armelle's hand and head snake up to his chest. He was still dressed, but entirely nervous. Gulping, his head hit the pillow before he could tell her he didn't think this was entirely a good idea. Tentatively, he lifted his own muscular arm and placed it on Armelle's head, holding it in friendly comfort. This was the most affectionate human contact he had experienced in years and he was still outrageously afraid of it.

"I'm...doing alright with what I have." Jacques couldn't stomach telling Armelle that he wasn't taking the potion at all. He locked himself in his old bedroom and that had held him. It served its purpose and Jacques didn't see the purpose in splurging on a rare and expensive potion that would incriminate him further as the freak he was. He let his hand drift absently back and forth along Armelle's hair before stopping himself. Coughing slightly, he retracted his hand so it relaxed on his abdominal area. This was definitely not a good idea. The two of them were never going to be together and the fact that Armelle had so quickly taken into Jacques was unnerving. Even after all these years, Jacques still loved her like no one else in the world would ever know. His dual being, the feral and the human, longed to be around her. The comfort of being with her was too much for his heart to bear.

"Honestly, Ellie, I think I should go sleep on the couch." Jacques tried to wriggle out of her hold, but she was strong and he was not willing to exert enough force to pull away. It may hurt her to do so. Love hurt too, but he couldn't help that. He had learned long ago that emotions were something that had to be faced regardless of how often they popped up.

Armelle was half asleep and still very intoxicated and when Jacques tried to get up she held on to him tightly, "No, I need you" she whispered right before she fell asleep. She wasn't willing to let him go. She knew in the morning she would remember all the reasons this was a bad idea and why they hadn't talked in so long, but for now she was content just to have him near her.

---

It was the best night’s sleep she'd had in a long time. When Armelle woke she didn't open her eyes right away, instead she basked in the comforting warmth emanating from the body beside her. Wait, Armelle's eyes shot open. Whose body was this? What happened last night? She look beside her to see the form of a still fully clothed Jacques lying there, still completely zonked out.

At the sight of him she remembered the previous night. Relief flooded her when she realized they had not done anything more in the bed except sleep. Jacques looked like he was a pretty deep sleeper and thought that her exit shouldn't disturb him. Gently she crawled over him, located her dress and headed for the door. On a whim she backtracked and risked kissing her old lover's forehead goodbye. With a smile she hurried out of the run down shack and as soon as she felt the release of the pressure of protecting magic she disapparated away to her own home.