Chapter Text
January 13th, 1981 - Chicago, Illinois - 2:34 AM
The sound of the busy streets echoed through the city, giving life to what would’ve been a peaceful night. Someone always had somewhere to be, somewhere to go, someone to see, that was Chicago— where small town people could turn their life around. A place to give someone purpose.
So why did the city leave her feeling broken and lost?
In a shabby cramped apartment, a woman lays tired. Tired of the bright lights of a city that once promised her everything, tired of the jobs she’s had to take just to keep herself afloat, tired of coming home (if you could call it that) to nobody.
Tired.
She lays curled in her rumpled covers, her eyes shut tight. She desperately needs sleep, she knows it— she can feel it, the way her eyelids burn against her dry eyes. Against her better judgment, she opens her eyes to gaze at the alarm clock on the bedside table, she’ll have to get up in a few hours. Lately she had been dreading waking up, her life didn’t have anything to promise her; she had nothing to look forward to.
It wasn’t always like this.
Once upon a time she lived a luscious life filled with everything she could ever ask for. She had lived in a beautiful home, was popular— a cheerleader, her parents had provided her with glamorous and expensive gifts. As much as she missed the times where all she had to worry about was the outfit she was wearing, there was much more that she found nostalgic. The place she really called home was a middle class house with a family that welcomed her in her time of need, and a crummy basement next door with enough memories to fill a novel.
The group she had once called her friends had been lost to time and distance. Jackie hadn’t spoken to any of them In almost a year. Why would she? They only reminded her of how pathetic her life had become. The end of 1979 had also been the end of the worst year she could remember. That’s why three months into 1980, after realizing Point Place had nothing more to offer her, Jackie left and didn’t look back. Not after trying to say her goodbyes of course, at least to those who were left. Two had moved away, one had dismissed her feelings completely, one had become a false love, and the other one—
The other one.
The other one had a hold on her that she was embarrassed to admit— a love she couldn’t let go no matter how much she desperately tried. No amount of work, alcohol, or sleep could tear his memory away from her mind. She found herself reminiscing about him.
Him.
He, who she had chased more than once. The boy who she begged to give their future a chance. The boy she begged to tell her to stay, to keep her by his side. The boy who taught her comfort, humbleness, and humility. She spent her time trying to earn an opportunity by his side, only for him to drunkenly give it to someone else— a stripper . All their good memories seemed to be a burden for him, and he made sure Jackie knew that. Jackie made sure that she knew as well.
She wasn’t enough for him.
Him.
Now Jackie wasn’t enough for anybody. Not even to herself.
Where had it all gone wrong? With her first love— that lovable idiot who saw her love as an excuse to sleep with other women, knowing she would always be there waiting for him? Was it when she quit cheerleading, something she enjoyed, just to spend more time with her “friends”? Perhaps it was the decision of choosing a boy— him over her career. All of those had been memorable moments in her life, they had become meaningful changes to her character. Parts of her changed for him but it wasn’t enough.
One impact in her life stood out tall amongst everything else, the reason why she had transformed so much in the first place. The one mistake she wasn’t sure she should regret.
Falling in love with Steven Hyde .
She was willing to give so much for him, only for him to push her away.
His name echoed in Jackie’s head like a mantra, “ Steven… Steven… Steven…”
The Steven who let her stay with him when her father went to jail, who bought her shiny foil wrapped cheeseburgers, who had taken her to multiple school dances despite hating them. The Steven who was gone, replaced by some drunkard who couldn’t give a damn what they used to have. She ached for him, who he used to be. It’s evident in her mind, and it shows on her torso.
She didn’t even notice she had been clutching the Led Zeppelin shirt that clung to her body. Leaning her head down, she sniffed fondly. It no longer smelled like him, not after all the wears and washes she had given the shirt. It was the first present he had ever given to her, and it was the most meaningful. So meaningful that she could not get rid of it, even after all that had happened.
All that had happened.
Jackie’s head felt like it was splitting open from all the overthinking she had been doing that night. Everything ached, from her legs that spent the day running errands around her bottom tier position at the news station, to her arms that carried drinks to customers during the night. Two jobs meant more strain on her body, but it also meant less time dwelling on the past. Drowning herself in work so she wouldn’t be able to face the demons that haunted her— she was becoming her father. She hated that.
The past couldn’t be changed no matter how much she prayed.
If she couldn’t fix the problems that plagued their downfall, but she wished for a solution to save her future. Her wish didn’t have anything to do with fame or fortune, it was a wish she had never spoken out loud— fearing the guilt that would follow after. She never regretted it before, not when they were fighting, not when he cheated on her, not even when he let the stripper stay. Jackie thought that love would conquer, but as she lay in her insufficient apartment, thinking of only how she desired to be happy, it was obvious that wasn’t true.
Jackie’s nose began to burn from a swelling sensation in her eyes. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought them. Jackie Burkhart doesn’t cry for just anyone, but no one was around to see. She could let go, just for tonight— one good cry to release her to slumber. The pillow under her head caught the tears that slipped down her sullen face. There was one way to fix her longing for Steven, and she was sure it would release her from his hold on her past, present and future. Letting him go was the only way she could move on, but she couldn’t do it. So she begged herself, she was the only person she had left.
Forget about Steven Hyde .
He was the best and worst thing that ever happened to her, she was sure of it. If she could go back, maybe things would be different. But for tonight she begged silently.
She begged to forget.
“Anything for you, Doll.”
Forget about Steven Hyde.
“Jackie, I do want to be with you.”
Forget about Steven Hyde.
“You’re beautiful.”
The tears didn’t stop, her breathing becoming jagged. Jackie could no longer feel the ache in her arms and legs, due to the sharp pain in her chest that was more prominent. Clutching her— his shirt in her hands, she clasped her chest. Her heart beat in her ears drummed loudly as her mind swirled with wonderful memories of him, all ending the same way— him leaving her in that Chicago motel. When the beating in her ears abruptly stopped she knew exactly what had happened.
Her heart broke.
Forget about Steven Hyde was the last thought she had before sleep finally claimed her.
Tomorrow was going to be tough, but she had to try
She had to try.
Try to forget about Steven Hyde .
January 13th, 1981 - Point Place, Wisconsin - 2:46 AM
Another late night, Hyde’s been having a lot of those lately. Nights that involve drinking, smoking, and, if he’s lucky, a girl who won’t be there when he wakes up. It’s like clockwork–– wake up, go to the job he thought he always wanted, go back home, eat, drink and smoke until he’s tired of it. Frankly, it was all he wanted— to be left alone to do what he wanted.
There was something about today that snapped him out of the useless motions he calls his life— a customer. It wasn’t anyone he knew, but it was like looking at a version of his former self.
Some snooty teenager walked in, he knew the kind— the kind that likes loud music, the kind of music that would piss off the adults in his life for no reason other than it was different. You know, the good stuff. The kid came in, browsed a bit, and went straight for the bargain bin. Yup, definitely a kid Hyde saw himself in.
The teen rummaged through the milk crate of old shit Hyde didn’t feel like sorting out, but apparently something was in there that made the kid chuckle to himself. He carried himself over to the checkout counter and placed the worn down record on the table.
“Never thought I’d see a place like this sell this kind of crap.”
It wasn’t the blatant disrespect to the store and its owner that made Hyde’s breath stagger. It was the record on the counter. He shouldn’t recognize it, he really shouldn’t, but he did. It was a record that someone in his life used to play over and over again. It was a record that gained a new scratch every time it was played because she didn’t know how to handle a record properly. She was chastised for the way she manhandled it, so he’d have to play it for her.
She liked it when he did, because he did it for her. Or at least she thought he did, he always said he did it because it was a crime to stand by and watch her murder vinyl. Then she’d go on and on about how even he wouldn’t let disco die despite how much he hated it.
Hyde could almost see it now, her, goading him with her fingers, whispering the lyrics in his ear, begging him to dance with her. He didn’t know how she did it, but whenever she begged him to dance, no matter how much he protested, he always gave in. She had wanted to dance in a big fancy ballroom with him, the dance floor lit with a big sparkly chandelier. He’s heard this ramble before, about how they’d both be the best dressed, best dancers, best couple in the room, and he’d always just shake his head. Because no matter what he said, it wouldn’t distract her from what she wanted.
What she wanted and what she got were two totally different things.
Instead of a magnificent evening in a shiny mansion, she would get a cold night in the backroom of a crummy basement. And yet, just by looking at her face, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. Whenever it was just the two of them, she made it feel like it was so— just the two of them. When he looked into her big doll-like eyes, and only saw himself, there wasn’t any place he would rather be.
Hyde closed his eyes to bat away the memory, taking a long drag of the blunt he was smoking. Why was he still feeling like this, like she would walk in at any moment and take control of his life like it was her own? And why was the idea not filling him with disgust?
She tried to set his own life on a course he didn’t want. She was going to help send him to college, thinking back on it now, he didn’t know anyone else who wanted that for him except the Formans. Hyde thought back to the record store, he wouldn’t have that if it wasn’t for her— her nagging that is. The way she would slip how she wanted for him to talk to his biological father into every conversation they had until he finally gave in. She kept telling him that he still had a chance to be a part of a good family, and that meant something coming from her— someone who thought her family was good only for them to abandon her in a way she still couldn’t accept.
She was right, she was always right (sometimes). And just like she predicted, the future came and was prepared to take her away. And how did he repay her? By not telling her how much she meant to him, chasing her away, not hearing her out, and betraying her in the worst way possible— marrying someone else, a stripper. He gave away the one thing she had begged for, himself.
She always said she didn’t need anyone but him, but he never believed her. And when she lost him, she lost herself. And all Hyde did was pour oil on the bonfire that was her life, and watch.
Why couldn’t he just let her go? He had done it several times already, but she was always the one who came back. She was the only one who came back for him, until she didn’t.
Hyde stood by and watched her latch on to someone in one last chance of love, something she truly believed in. He’ll never know what really happened, but he knows how it ended— with her disappearing. She was gone from his life, just like he made it seem like he wanted.
It was for the best, Hyde thought as his eyes wandered around the disheveled craphole he called home. She wouldn’t have been happy here, he knew she wouldn’t have. She would’ve taken one look at this place and called it a prison cell, gray, cold, and unwelcome.
Hyde smiled to himself, blowing smoke into the air.
She would’ve decorated the place like a palace, bright colors that would’ve made his eyes want to puke, and ABBA on every wall. Then Hyde would’ve really felt like a prisoner. He could see it now, arguing over furniture and bickering over which music to play that night. She always found something to celebrate about, every night would’ve felt like a party. Hyde can lie to himself over and over that she wouldn’t have been happy, but in the past when she only wanted him— he can’t help but wonder.
She had to be doing better than whatever the hell this was, she had to be. Because if she wasn’t… he didn’t want to think about it. Any time he did, there was a painful knot in his gut, the same kind he got when he made her cry— which was too many times. Hyde had no way of knowing, nobody had heard from her in nearly a year, rightfully so after the way she was treated. He had to give her credit, she stuck around longer than he thought she would. She was a fighter, always was. She never gave up on him— never gave up on them.
Nowadays it was a game Hyde played with himself. Tonight, would he think about what could have been— pondering the life they could’ve had together, while preparing for the mundane routine of his daylife. Or, would he dream of better days past— reliving the moments his pride wouldn’t admit that he cherished?
Hyde let the smooth drink of whatever poison he poured himself burn his throat. He wasn’t sure which was worse.
Looks like it was the latter, where his mind desperately wanted to remember, but his body just wanted to forget. He just wanted to sleep, to dream about those nights. The nights of just the two of them, huddled together on an old twin sized cot–– it wasn’t the queen size bed she deserved, but with her legs entangled in his and her fingers gently massaging his scalp, she only complained when he laid on her hair— her beautiful, shiny, brunette locks.
It was the way she whispered sweet nothings in his ear, but with every word coated in a sultry tone, he knew these were not “nothings”.
It was the way she saw potential in him, potential that nobody else could see.
It was the way she said his name, and how it sent shivers up his spine.
It was the way she begged for him to say anything other than “I don’t know”, because she knew. She always knew. She always knew that she loved him more than anything, and he knew it too, that’s why she was willing to give up her career just for a chance to have a future with him. But the difference between them was that his pride was too big to swallow. And instead of saying the one word she wanted to hear, he said too many. In the form of:
“I don’t know.”
“Have a good trip.”
The past burned his throat harsher, but the drink was long gone. Instead he found a lump, one that burned his nose as well. Shit, even the smoke was getting to him, it had to be, his eyes felt dry. Blinking several times helped moisten them up, a little too well, they were overflowing. Hyde didn’t even bother wiping them, the effort would’ve made it worse.
If he could do it over, he didn’t know where he’d start.
But he could try with one simple word.
Stay.
The blunt was long finished, and the glass he was holding was warm but empty in his hand. Hyde’s mind swirled with the thoughts of the only girl he ever loved, yet he loved her so much he only said it to her once and admitted it to himself in the privacy of his own mind. She was never a fan of that, but still held him close. Because it was him. Hyde smiled once more, closing his eyes to drown himself in the memory of her love for him— for them . Whenever the thoughts of her came, he’d curse out loud and distract himself, but not tonight.
Tonight was a night for thinking of her .
Tonight was a night for dreaming of Jackie Burkhart.
“How did you screw up so badly?”
“ Me ?!”
“Yes, you.”
“I wasn’t the one who skipped Hyde’s life changing epiphany appointment because ‘oh he’s smart, he’ll figure it out’!”
“Oh yeah, well what about you? You were supposed to give Jackie her ‘what would happen if she never met Steven’ dream.”
“Well the higher ups were so concerned with ‘God’s favorite cherub’, Eric Forman, we all kind of got swamped.”
“We could grant them their one wish—”
“Which one? Ever since ‘79 they’ve both been asking for a miracle, there’s too many to choose from. Look here— wish I’d never been born, wish they’d never been born, wish I could forget, wish I could remember, wish I didn’t get that tattoo — ”
“What about their do-over?”
“Yeah, they’ve both asked for that.”
“Well that’s it then.”
“What’s it?”
“Two birds with one stone.”
“…”
“We give them both what they want, right this very moment.”
“What.”
“Yeah, hear me out. We grant their one wish— the do-over, send them both back together, and—”
“And what, hope for the best? You know we can only grant them a wish or a do-over, and with a do-over we can’t interfere ever again. Are you sure this will work out the way it’s supposed to? You know how stubborn and clueless they both are.”
“Whatever happens the second time around has to be better than this. I mean, look at them!”
“Yeah this is kind of hard to watch… It’s a shame, I was really rooting for them too.”
“A lot of us were, all the more reason to give them the do-over. What do you say?”
“Whatever.”
“Well now you just sound like Hyde.”
“Shut up, are we doing this or what?”
“Anything for you, doll.”