Chapter Text
People would say I'm lying
If I tried to tell 'em how we met tonight
They'd ask how many drinks I'd had
Cause ain't no way it all went down that right
You waiting on somebody and they never did show
You were pissed off, leaving, came back cause you forgot your phone
Why he's currently sitting through his 50th meeting slash interview of the day, even though he feels like shit and probably looks it too, he is not sure of, but the Battle Rounds are around the corner and the The Voice producers are pissed at him enough as it is, so he relents and gives in when Carson and Pharrell beg him to not start drama and just endure it in peace so they can all get home to their families at a reasonable hour. They've all had to put up with a lot of his bad moods and passive aggressive behavior lately and he almost feels bad for them, because they really are amazing friends, but then again he doesn't feel sorry at all, because he's the one with the fucked up life and the cheating wife and the divorce that's gonna be all over every news channel in a few weeks time.
He knows if he stays here for much longer, he'll go down that road of depressing thoughts again and for the first time in a long time he can't wait to get out of here and go home, to his new rented place, not the old one that had Miranda written all over it. He'll have a couple of beer (he stopped getting shitfaced shortly after the Blind's began when Adam yelled at him because he's had enough of dragging his drunk ass to bed every night and when he discovered that Gwen, who went through hell for years and had it way worse than he could ever imagine, was keeping her shit together and fighting her way back to life, while he was still drowning in self pity) and maybe he'll order some food, even though he'd lost his appetite a while ago and then spend another restless night in his empty bed.
“You ok?” he hears Gwen whisper from across the table, while her foot gently nudges his. He nods briefly , giving her a small smile, because that's the only reaction he can muster at this point. Besides, she has her own problems and her own tragedy she needs to deal with and doesn't need his crap on top of it. They've had countless conversations over the last couple of months. About their broken hearts and failed marriages, about cheating exes and how they never pictured their lives taking a turn like this. Gwen had cried in his arms more times than he can count, he had wiped her tears away or gotten her drunk, listened to her sobbing about what a fucking asshole Gavin Rossdale is; had given her warm hugs and comforting kisses to her forehead. He'd been there for her through it all, since that first day he found her on the floor of her trailer bathroom, heart wrenching sobs shaking her body, make up running down her face, the pain reflecting in her eyes so intense that he almost started crying with her, because nobody had the right to hurt a beautiful, wonderful, amazing woman like Gwen. He'd had her back and she'd had his and together they formed this special, unexplainable bond that seems more fragile than ever because somehow that small line between friendship and romance becomes more and more blurry every time they see each other, every time they talk, every time they accidentally (or not) brush fingers, or lean in too close while talking or hug a little bit too long for it to be strictly platonic.
He can tell she's paying just as little attention to what's being said as he is, by the way she's biting her bottom lip deep in thoughts and tapping her foot nervously, almost as if she can't wait to finally get outta here. Gwen's eyes look especially dull and sad today, her usually warm and glowing chocolate irises emotionless, almost empty in the bright neon lights of the conference room. In this moment he would give anything to see the characteristic sparkle return to her eyes, that sparkle that seemed to have drawn him in since the beginning of season 7 when he first discovered this intense feeling of attraction and longing that seems to consume him whenever she's around, whenever they look at each other. He wants to make her laugh, wants to take that haunted look out of her eyes, even if it's just for a little while, but he doesn't have the energy to crack a joke, doesn't have the energy for a lot of things these days actually. And anyways, there's nothing that can be said really, to make it better, to make her feel less of a failure or to take away her pain, cause in the end all that matters is the reality. And their realities are a bitch these days.
When they are finally, finally allowed to leave and everyone's scrambling out the room to rush home to their families and loved ones, he notices Gwen hanging back, staring at her phone deep in thoughts, angrily typing away with her long pink nails, letting out frustrated huffs every now and then.
“Fuck this!” In a surprising act of anger which he's not used to from her, she slams it down on the table, causing it to bounce off and carelessly land on the floor somewhere behind them.
“You wanna talk about it now or d'ya wanna implode first and call me later on?” He asks, not beating around the bush. Honesty has always been the best policy with them.
She doesn't seem the least bit faced or offended by his blunt question, rummaging through her bag for something. “I'm just having a bad day, like really really bad, like go to a Motel 6 and disappear forever bad.” The smile on her face is ironic at it's best and tone in her voice is scaring him, if he's completely honest with himself. Blake is used to her being ridiculously emotional (not that he minded, in fact he enjoyed being around someone who can wear their emotions on their sleeves and who's honest and open, no matter how hard that might be sometimes) but the resignation and numbness that seem to surround her today,worries him.
“My friend Sophie promised me to come over here and take me to a bar and get me drunk and I just really needed that today, but now she's stuck finishing up a video and Gavin really screwed up and the kids are with him tonight and I just..” she trails of, taking her bag and starting to walk towards the door. “You what, Gwen?” His voice is quiet and soft and he watches her intently, trying to see what's really going on with her. “I just feel alone, Blake. I've been working so hard to try and protect my family and save whatever there was left to save and I failed. So now I'm coming back home to an empty house, without my kids or dogs or husband and it's fucking hard, y'know? I'm lonely. And the only time I don't feel like this is when I'm with you and I really shouldn't have said that out loud, I probably shouldn't even be thinking this but it's true.” She pauses, and sighs deeply. He can see her shoulders tense from where he's sitting, her back to him and he knows that she's trying to pull it together. “So that's that. I'm an emotional mess and I'm lonely. So freakin' lonely.”
He realizes then that even though they've had countless discussions about their past relationships and even though she had cried in his arms more times than he can remember and even though he feels like he knows her tragic story inside out, that he really didn't have any idea of how deep her pain is sitting, how it must cut through her heart like a knife every time her kids mention Gavin's name, how hard it must be for her to try and keep it together for their sake, while nobody's really thinking about hers.
“You know you can talk to me.” he pauses, then “always, Gwen”. He gives her a small reassuring smile and she looks back over her shoulder. “I know, I know.” Somehow the tone in her voice makes him doubt her words,but he'll let it slip for now. “I really do Blake, it's just.. I put you through enough of my crap and it's not like you're having it any easier than me and I'm here crying about my fucking ex again.” she's frustrated with herself now (at this point he likes to think that he knows her well enough to be able to tell when her mood shifts) and runs a trembling hand trough her curls, letting out a deep sigh. “I just need to go home and punch the wall or throw darts at his face or drink myself into a coma or something like that. Like isn't that what you've been doing? Cause you're drunk all the time and seem to deal perfectly fine so maybe I should try that too”. She's rambling now and word vomiting all over the place like she tends to do when she's nervous or angry or... well, just being Gwen and he knows she doesn't really mean it, but he can't help but feel a slight tinge of hurt at her words. She grabs her stuff then, without uttering another word and slams the door on her way out.
He knows, if it was anyone else talking to him like this he would be beyond the point of pissed and probably also hurt as hell, but she's Gwen and she has every right to be frustrated and in pain and he could never be angry at her, because she's hands down the kindest, warmest person he's ever met and she's saved him in those last few months and continues to save him a little bit more every day they spend together. So he just sits there and waits for her to come back, which she will, he's sure of that. Not just because her precious phone is still on the floor behind her chair but also because he knows that she needs someone to talk to and someone to make her laugh, and that person has always been him.