Private Finished Hi, I Love Y O U

Shay didn't know why Fitz was smiling. This wasn't a good time for such a big smile like that. That voice that had been in her head, male in nature and kind of hissy, was telling her how everything was fucked.

How are you going to get Roa to forgive you? How are you going to get them ever to see you as they did before? You had a chance to get out, and you fucked everything up.

Shay wanted to lean into Fitz and cry, but instead, she just buried her face in her hands and doubled over. She didn't cry loudly. It was silent and jerky. She wanted the bad thoughts to go away. She wanted to reverse time.

But if she had reversed time, Hella probably wouldn't be alive. Maybe there was some good that came out of this.

Shay wasn't certain what to reply to Fitz with. Should she pull away? Should she throw herself at his feet and beg for mercy? Try to play normal and hug him?

What was the right answer anymore?

"I'm not good," was all she managed to get out. She repeated that terrible little voice in her head. "I shouldn't be part of my family. I shouldn't be part of this one. This is why I can't have a kid. I can't get married. I shouldn't even be alive.

"What do I do? What do I do?"

And she asked that over and over again. What could she do? There was no forgiving this. She couldn't even forgive this. And Shay found her mind wandering back to Hella's arm, cut from wrist to elbow and how tempting that felt.

Did Hella have the emotional support Shay had promised she would when she got out?

Shay didn't feel as broken as last Valentine's had made her feel. At least, that was to say she didn't feel as dirty. Which was ironic but Shay wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Although she was sure she'd have wanted to push Derry away when his arms curled around her and he pulled her close to his chest, Shay didn't. His scent was familiar and comforting and hearing the tears in his voice made her feel less alone in this big world.

She still couldn't wrap her head around why he'd want to be with a murderer. Shay was all sorts of fucked, so it made sense that she'd have been fine if things were turned around but Fitz was better than her. He was more normal than her.

"I'm a scared murderer," she said with a weight to the word that stuck in her throat and made her intake air sharply enough that it hurt.

Internally she scolded herself to stop crying. It was done. She didn't deserve to cry about it now because it came with consequences.

"How? H-How do you get past something like this? Why are you all still here?" No matter how many times Shay ran it through her head, it didn't make sense.

Love was conditional. She'd fucked up majorly and been stupid enough to ask for Fitz's help. Or to tell him. To let him see what a monster she was.

Love was conditional, and her conditions had run dry yet here he was. There was Angelo. It made no sense.

It made no sense. It made no sense! Shay tried to piece everything Derry was saying together, but her mind was a jigsaw mess. She knew the parts complemented each other, that there was some bigger picture where all this information was obvious, but looking at it like she was now didn't make that apparent.

She shuddered; this awful sense of dread had built up and was no overspilling inside of her. Her mouth felt too dry to speak even after Derry was done talking (because she'd not have ever considered interrupting him when he spoke like that).

There were dangerous questions whispered in her head. A voice that urged her to ask them, even if Shay was sure there was a fifty percent chance the answer would fucking break her.

"You didn't think about it ever once? J-Just getting up and not returning?" she asked disbelievingly. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to try being close to him again or pulling back, so she stayed where she was, feeling like she might lose her minimalistic lunch in the process.

The eye contact made her nervous. Shay balled her fist and squeezed her thumb, moved it around in a way that suggested a need to keep busy. One she didn't have the honor of getting.

"Or..." Shay said but didn't finish her sentence, trying to look away from him. She grimaced.

Shay didn't move at all in the time it took Fitz to go to the kitchen and get them both some water. She'd expected him to get himself some alcohol, but she wouldn't comment on it.

When he offered her the glass, his eyes bearing into her, Shay reached out and gingerly took it before setting it on the coffee table nearby. She was feeling some of that nervous excitement leaving and being replaced by a flight or fight instinct she knew well.

Shay was quiet, staring at her knees and thoughtful. She closed her eyes sluggishly and exhaled through her nose. There was plenty Shay could have said, but she opted not to. He'd only get more frustrated and then maybe she'd get venomous. There wasn't a need to fight over her insecurities.

She wondered if Fitz ever got the urge to grab her and shake her or hold her face roughly as Logan had done before. She rubbed her jaw at the thought.

"That's it then, I guess," Shay said with a tone that did nothing to portray a finalization in the situation. "You're mad but still here. I'm not leaving, and even if I wanted to, I'd have nowhere to go."

Shay felt angrier than she did scared or nervous now. With herself, mostly, but it projected outward to the perception she felt everyone had of her.

"No," she told him and turned away to curl up and stare at the wall, arms wrapped protectively around herself. Now didn't feel like the right time to say it. It would never be the right time.

"H-Hey, Derry," she said when he'd whipped out his phone. She still wasn't looking at him, focusing hard on the wall instead. "Um. I was wrong. About the test, when I was going into juvie."

She tightened up further. She felt sick and she was sure that couldn't be any type of morning sickness. She was a murderer now. Murderers shouldn't have kids. Nothing was going like it should have been.