2 Jude
Jude sat in the backseat of Fitzgibbon’s SUV and knew he was going to get it when they got home.
Cope hadn’t said a word since he’d had to buckle Jude’s seatbelt because his fingers weren’t working.
Jude had giggled, but he knew it was no laughing matter. Cope was ready to go nuclear.
When Fitzgibbon parked in front of their house, Ronan helped Jude out of the vehicle and into the house.
Cope noticed all of the kids, minus Lizbet, were sacked out in their sleeping bags in front of the television.
Ten scooped up Ezra, while Ronan paid their share of the money to the babysitter, Courtney. Cope and Fitz did the same.
“How were the kids?”
Cope asked.
“They were so much fun. Everly told me my future and Wolf told the funniest jokes.”
Courtney laughed, as if she were remembering one in particular.
“What’s in your future?”
Ten asked, curiously.
“Everly said there was going to be lots of drama. I mean, of course there is, I’m going to be a first grade teacher someday soon.”
Courtney shrugged into her coat. “Can you give me a lift home, Mr. Fitzgibbon?”
“Sure thing!”
Fitz scooped up Aurora and headed out the door. “Night, everyone. Cope, call if you need anything.”
Jude watched from the sofa as their friends filed out of the house with their kids. Cope closed and locked the door behind them.
“I’m gonna bring Wolfie up to bed and check on Lizbet.”
Cope didn’t even look at Jude.
“Wait! Don’t go,”
Jude begged. He didn’t like the slurred tone of his words. “There’s something wrong.”
Cope swung around to look at his husband.
“You mean the fact that you let every man in town hang on you all night or that you spent an hour this evening with a huge dicked former lover? Or the fact that you left me alone at our table. Or that I couldn’t find you when we all wanted to go home? Are those the things that are wrong or is it something else I don’t know about?”
Even in his semi-drunken state, Jude knew Cope was colossally pissed off. It was going to take more than a smile and his usual charm to get himself out of this mess. He had a feeling it was his charm that had him in this much hot water to begin with. “No. Well, yes. I mean no.”
Cope raised his left brow, but didn’t say anything.
“I mean there’s something wrong with me.”
Jude groaned and slapped his hands over his mouth. He ran to the bathroom just in time to spew. The remains of the awful dinner and his four drinks swirled down the bowl when he flushed. He tried to push himself off the floor but couldn’t make it back to his feet.
“Yeah, there’s something wrong with you, all right.”
Cope shook his head. His eyes were filled with anger and disappointment.
“No, I mean…”
Jude let out a sigh. He’d known what he wanted to say to Cope but couldn’t seem to find the words at the moment. Instead, he held up his hands, hoping his husband would help him get back to his feet.
Cope obliged and got Jude standing. He grabbed out for his tux jacket, when his husband listed to the left.
“I didn’t have that much to drink,”
Jude said when Cope maneuvered him back to the sofa. He tried to peel off his jacket, which was suffocating him, but settled for undoing the bowtie and the top studs of his shirt.
“Define how much,”
Cope said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jude held up four fingers. “Three drinks.”
“Your mouth says three but your hand says four. Which is it?”
Cope sounded more exasperated than angry.
Jude’s head was pounding, making it hard to think. “One during the cocktail hour. Wine at dinner. One or two more after we ate.”
Jude gagged again, but didn’t throw up. “I really don’t feel well. I…I-”
Jude forgot what he’d been about to say. He’d been drunk plenty of times in his life but this was different. “Drugs.”
“You took drugs tonight?”
Cope’s mouth hung open in obvious shock.
Jude shook his head. “No. Not me. In my drink. I think. This isn’t tight. I’m not tight. I mean...”
He looked up to Cope for help, but his husband didn’t look to be in a very charitable mood.
“I need to get Wolf up to bed. I’ll be back. Stay put.”
Cope picked up Wolf and headed for the stairs.
Jude sat back against the couch cushions. The very last thing he wanted to do right now was move. The room had started to spin around him. He definitely didn’t have enough to drink to cause this. In his entire life he’d only gotten the spins once and that was the first time he drank and thought he was going to die. Jude felt worse now that he did on that teenaged night long ago.
What if Cope didn’t believe how wrong he felt? He didn’t look like he believed anything Jude had said before he’d taken Wolf upstairs. Should he call Ronan? Fitz? 911? Taking a deep breath, Jude tried to calm down. Cope said he’d be back down in a minute. He needed to gather his wits so he could tell his husband how he felt, physically, not mentally, although Jude knew he was fucked in the head at the moment. Cope was pissed and to be honest, Jude didn’t blame him.
Jude shut his eyes and tried to deepen his breathing. His heart rate slowed and his muddled brain was able to hold on to a cognitive thought. Slowly, the room stopped spinning. He felt sleep racing toward him like an out of control freight train.
“Jude!”
Cope half-shouted.
“Wha-”
Jude snapped awake. The light of the living room hurt his eyes. Nausea rolled through his body. “Fuck!”
Jude was off the couch and running to the bathroom. He retched and retched, until he was sure he’d thrown up everything he’d eaten in the last three weeks. “I’m in trouble. So much trouble.”
“You’re telling me.”
Cope sighed. He was leaning against the door jamb, looking as exhausted as Jude felt.
“No, I mean…”
Jude paused. What the fuck did he mean? “Drugs.”
“Jesus, not this shit again.”
Cope grabbed a face cloth and dampened it before handing it to Jude and pointing to his chin. “What the hell did you take?”
“Nothing, babe. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Jude was confused. “Not die. I don’t wanna die. I love you too much to die.”
“You’ve got a hell of a way of showing it. You knew I didn’t want to go to this thing tonight, but instead of sticking with me and getting through the night together, you were eye fucking every man in the room. Hugging people and letting Jerry and his big dick kiss you. Yeah, I could feel your love bursting out all over.”
Jude’s muddled brain cleared enough for him to understand that Cope wasn’t so much angry about what he’d had to drink, but over the way he’d acted with the people at the party. “Supposed to be a chance to network. Make connections. That’s what I was doing. Not my fault that people kept hugging me and taking pictures with me. I mean, how do you say no to the President of Massachusetts? And besides, she’s a lesbian. I met her wifey.”
“You mean the governor?”
Cope asked, sounding absolutely done with Jude’s bullshit.
“Yup! Her too.”
Jude climbed back to his knees. “Listen to me. You gotta listen, baby cakes. Okay?”
He reached out to Cope, who helped him back to his feet.
“I’m listening. God knows why, but I’m listening.”
Cope sighed heavily, sounding as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, which in essence his did, considering his shoulders were the only things keeping Jude from falling back to the bathroom floor.
“I think there’s drugs in my drink.”
Jude felt proud of himself that he finally got the sentence out right. Cope seemed to be taking him seriously and helped him back to the sofa.
“You think your drink was spiked?”
Cope asked, all traces of his earlier anger gone.
Jude nodded and instantly regretted it. He could feel his heartbeat inside of his skull and the room had started to spin again. “I’ve been drunk before. This is different. Wrong. I can’t feel my tongue.”
Jude tried to stick it out. “Do I still have a tongue?”
“Yes, you still have a tongue.”
Cope set his hand against Jude’s forehead. He got up and went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back with several bottles of water. “Start drinking. We need to get this shit and the alcohol out of your system. How is your breathing?”
Jude took a deep breath, noticing his chest didn’t feel quite so tight. Maybe the drugs were leaving his system or it could have to do with the fact that Jude was no longer in imminent danger of being divorced and having to sleep in his car. “I’m okay. I can breathe.”
He opened the first bottle of water and took a few tentative sips. He didn’t want the water to come back up on him. He’d hurled enough tonight to last an entire lifetime. “Are the kids okay?”
Cope nodded. “Yeah, Lizzy B is sound asleep. Her nightlight was on and her favorite books were sitting in our chair. It looks like Courtney read to her before bed. Wolfie didn’t stir when I carried him upstairs.”
“Good,”
Jude said, finishing off the first bottle of water. Thankfully his stomach felt okay. “I didn’t have fun tonight.”
“Being drugged against your will isn’t supposed to be fun.”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean…”
Jude shook his head trying to clear the fog which had settled over his thoughts. “At the party. All I wanted to do was come home to our kids. I didn’t wanna be the center of attention and get my picture taken with all those people I don’t even know. Cisco wanted us to be there tonight, front and center because of that case we solved that I can’t remember.”
For the life of him, he couldn’t remember which case he was talking about.
“The Hannigan case?”
Cope suggested.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
It had been Jude who’d finally been able to put the pieces together and get Rebekah Hannigan the justice she deserved after fifteen long years. Her father had hugged Jude for a half an hour when he told the older man his daughter’s killer had confessed and been arrested. Jude had to admit it was the best hug of his life. He’d brought peace to a family who so desperately deserved it.
Cisco Jackson had been over the moon when the case was resolved and put Jude in front of the news cameras to answer questions from the press. He’d shone. At least he thought he did. Fitz and Ronan gave him shit about going Hollywood, but Jude knew they were proud of him. What was more, Jude had been proud of himself.
Jude reached out for Cope’s hand. “I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to be. I’m sorry.”
Cope sighed and got off the sofa. “Let’s just go to bed. We both need sleep.”
He wrapped an arm around Jude as they went up the stairs.
Jude had a feeling Cope was doing it to make sure he didn’t fall, rather than out of his undying love, but he’d take it. Jude hated it when Cope was upset with him. First thing tomorrow morning, when his brain didn’t feel quite so scrambled, he was going to offer his husband the apology he deserved.