He watched Jude walk away through the bars and sat down, his anger deflating much like the confidence in her step as she walked away from him. Out of his life.

The full weight of what he had done hit him like a freight train, and the sight of her leaving was too much for him.

It was starting to get dark outside. The bail hadn't come. Although, he couldn't expect her to post bail after how he'd treated her. He deserved to be here for what he had done.

These prison gates won't open up for me; with these hands and knees I'm crawling. oh, I reach for you…

His Jude. Well, not his anymore, and he was the cause of that. As always. Suddenly he couldn't breathe. She was all he had left, and he pushed her away.

The cell was getting dark… and cold. So, so cold. He sat up and rubbed his arms briskly to create warmth. He cursed himself because if he were with Jude, she'd keep him warm. She'd be in his arms and they'd watch movies or sit by the fire. But he was here instead. Stuck. Here. On this cold cement block he'd use for a bed tonight, in a six by eight cell, alone.

I'm terrified of these four walls. These iron bars can't hold my soul in…

No one in this world would save him. He was stuck in this hole he dug himself into, and the only one who would reach down and pull him up was gone. Because he'd slapped her helping hand away.

Those hands. Soft, tiny, warm hands. They were slender and perfect from her piano playing, and they were slightly calloused from her guitar playing. Those hands had touched him everywhere. they had the power to calm him or to make him crazy; to snap him back to reality, or to push him into a sweet, blissful alternate universe where everything was as perfect as that set of hands…

"I'm sorry," he whispered to no one, but his heart screamed so loud that he knew she would hear. He closed his eyes and dreamt of her.

All I need is you come please, I'm calling… oh, I scream for you hurry, I'm falling, I'm falling…


Jude got home to an empty house. She'd gone to the bank and wired the money for Tommy's bail. Five thousand dollars. For the man to whom she'd given everything so he could throw it away like trash. She determined then that she wouldn't care anymore. She had tried to tell him. She had tried to tell him that he was good enough; that he did deserve everything good in this world. Now the problem was that she wasn't good enough for him. She had seen the glimmer of hope in his eyes… but he still threw her, them, away. As always, he pushed her away, brushing her off like a particularly annoying parasite. So, she wouldn't care. Not anymore.

She sobbed. His mom, who's sense of who was worth anything was… warped, at best… had told her that she was good. Tommy had told her that she was good. But neither had ever told her she was good enough. Now she knew it was true; she would never be good enough. Unless Tommy was wrong. She hoped he was wrong…

Say it if it's worth savin' me…


After they had received the bail, he walked out of the horrible hole in the wall and out to the docks. He walked to a private, deserted pier far away from the rest of the docks. He had brought Jude here. Then he brought her to the civilized part of the docks so they could watch the ships. But here, she asked him questions. Hard, painful questions, and he'd answered them as honestly as he could. A side of him came out here that would never be seen anywhere else by anyone else. He'd cried, hung on, let go, rambled, kept silent… everything. He let the walls come down, put the mask away, and let her in. but, naturally, when they were finally making progress in their relationship, he'd gone and messed it up. "YOU'RE WORTHLESS! WORTHLESS, WORTHLESS, WORTHLESS, WORTHLESS, WORTHLESS!!" The words echoed in his head over and over, and he found himself crying again. He wished that Jude were there to comfort him. But she wouldn't come back. Not this time. He looked up at the sunrise over the water. "Why me?"

Heaven's gates won't open up for me. With these broken wings I'm falling; all I see is you… these city walls ain't got no love for me. I'm on the edge of the 18th story, oh I scream for you…

He wished she would come back and be strong for him. Or at least, how to bestrong, like she was, and fearless, and independent. She never depended on anyone or any of these earthly things to be great. Believe it or not, he'd never been independent. He'd always depended on his fame, money, celeb lifestyle, and talent to get him where he wanted. And he was tired of it. He wanted more. He wanted to be… like her.

Show me what it's like to be the last one standing. Teach me wrong from right and I'll show you what I can be. Say it for me, say it to me, and I'll leave this life behind me…

He stared at his phone, slowly opening it, and hitting 2 on speed dial. He smiled at the memory. Jude had wanted to be the first in his speed dial memory. So she switched Kwest to number three and put herself in number two. When he asked her, she'd told him—

"Hey it's Jude! Speak yourself at the beep." BEEP!

"Jude—I just…" he sounded weaker than he wanted, so he stopped and tried again. "I just wanted to thank you for bailing me. You, uh—didn't have to do that after…" his voice dropped as the pain he wanted to hide came out anyway. "After what I did." He cleared his throat. "I just called to tell you that I'm out and I'm okay." Emotion finally over took him and he let out a long sigh to control himself. "I'm sorry," he said softly, "I just… I need you. I'm so sorry." His voice dropped even more. "I love you," he whispered, then he closed the phone and squeezed his eyes shut, praying for her to return his call.

say it if it's worth savin' me…


Jude listened to his voice, tears pouring out of her eyes. He was wrong in his logic that she, they weren't worth the shot. He was sorry. He hurt for her. He loved her.

Staring at her phone, she imagined him pressing 2 on his speed dial, remembering the joke she started between them, then she did the same.



"Jude," he breathed, "You… you're gone," he lamented.

"I know."

"Come back," he begged, voice cracking.


"Please," he whispered, "I need you."

"But why…?"

"I need you to say it again."

"Say what?"

"That I'm not worthless."

Say it for me, say it to me, and I'll leave this life behind me; say it if it's worth savin' me…