Yo, homies! It me, Autumn, call me Fall. IDC. Any way super angsty, don't hate me. I love them together, but us humans are really demanding sadistic people. SO HERE YA GO SADISTS!

Also these characters are not mine. I just borrowed them! The plot is mine and inspired by the song "You promised" by Brantley Gilbert. This is a song fic, this is also angsty and i fell like underlining or italicizing the lyrics would kill the vibe.

I still loved her it wasn't that hard to believe. Only a couple of years passed, since I lost the love of my life because I couldn't overcome one of my demons. That is all she ever asked of me, that I prioritize her over my addiction. She even begged me to let her help me fight it. But I didn't let her, I hid and eventually I lost her.

I remembered that night, it was dark with rain blurring everything. But like a curse, I saw her clearly, her small pale feet a stark contrast against the dark night, her toes curling into the grass. Her nightgown soaked showing her abdomen. Her face was wet from the rain, and tears. I could only remember her. Even during rehab, the only thing that kept me going was her, even though I already pushed her away. Rehab didn't work, I faked it and then I got out, just to fall for the same demon.

The night was cold and wet, but what chilled me was the heartbreak that seemed to have possessed her.

She was crying out my name, standing in the driveway. In my way, she refused to let me drive away, and I desperately needed to. I needed some nicotine, I needed to numb the pain that threatened to swallow me whole. I needed more.

I still see rain chasing tears down her face. It was back in October when I said it was over and hid.

Hid behind what, you ask? Everything, behind the door, behind the shame of my conviction I was beside myself. And behind some empty pill prescription.

She was yelling at me, I can still hear her screaming "No, baby don't! Your making my heart hurt." She ran towards my car door, banging on my window. All I wanted was meds. I started the car.

I rolled down the window a creek, making all the noise from the outside much louder.

"Clary, it's done. Bye." I dropped my ring outside the car window, letting it land on the wet concrete.

"Don't say those words!" Clary yelled through the rain, her sobs coloring her words. She was on her knees looking for my ring, and I took that as my chance to leave and get my meds. The pain in my chest and leg was unbearable, so was the pain in my head.

"Take it back!" she yelled her tiny fists pounding on my window, her body was partially blocking my path and I couldn't move without hurting her. "You know you don't mean that." she pleaded her big eyes begging and trying to get me to understand but all I could feel was the pain in my head and leg getting louder almost unbearable.

She yanked the door open and stepped in partially "You swore when I wore your ring, that it meant forever. I've got it on baby." She shows me her left hand, practically shoving it in my face

"How can you say I lost it?" She pleads her tiny hands gripping the steering wheel. Now the pain was unbearable and I shoved her. Causing her small body to fall down a couple feet away from the car, and out of my way. I highlighted it all the way, until the police found me.

I never quite forgiven myself for hurting Clary, and even after I pushed her, she tried to fight for me. Tried to get me to talk to her, but I couldn't think clearly, the withdrawal assisting me on being cruel. It was like being possessed. You knew what you were doing was wrong, you know that it will hurt, but the instant satisfaction made it worth it. But it wasn't worth it, it was stupidly easy to believe so, though.

But I never stopped thinking about her, rehab was the worst years of my life. At first no one was allowed to see me, but eventually close family was allowed, Clary was the first to come. I rejected all the times she tried to talk to me. And eventually she just stopped coming. She didn't give up easily though, she gave up 2 years after that night. And even then, she still wrote me letters. I wrote back once, but I didn't send it. I kept it on my bed stand next to all the pictures of her. I had a whole book of pictures, a whole book of old impossible dreams.

I did talk to her once, though, a week before I left rehab, I visited her.

Started crying while I was sleeping, I woke up and reached out looking for Clary's warm body. I woke up and reached out to a bed as empty as the heart inside my chest. That morning was the worst I had in years, since I was going through the pain of heartbreak. Before I was too lost to feel it, but now I was back and it hurt. Hurt so much.

I called her; told her I had some things to give her. I gathered up some pictures and a letter. We were in a room in the rehab center.

I let her read a letter, I had written the die we tied the knot. Our wedding day. The letter was filled with all the things I love about her.

I saw her tears; I saw them fall when she read about growing old together.

After she read it, she gave it to me and asked "why? Why are you hurting me years after you left me?"

I started to walk away; this wasn't going to work. I was to messed up for an angel like her to be actually meant for me. I can't believe that for a brief moment I forgot.

She called after me "Are you leaving me? Again?" I stopped and was about to turn to explain to her about how we weren't right for each other.

I heard her words.

I heard her say it will never work. And even though, I already knew that, it hurt me even worse than the withdrawal had.

I just nodded and instead of leaving, sunk into a chair, I took out the papers. We never legally divorced, it was time, or next time I might actually die.

She recognized the papers immediately and she took out a pen, approaching the paper beside me like it killed the love of her life. That's certainly how I felt towards it.

And for a moment I considered hitting my knees and crying "No, baby don't. Your making my heart hurt."

I imagined taking the pen from her hands and snapping it in half "Don't sign those words."

She is signing them now "Take it back." I would beg, "You know you don't mean that."

"You swore when you wore my ring." I would say staring at the ring that is on her dainty finger, the fingers that can hold a brush with such elegance.

"You got it on baby, how can you say you lost it?" It was cruel that she was left-handed since she was signing the paper with her left hand, the ring still on her finger.

And if she was still unmovable, at this moment I would add in "yeah and you promised." But I didn't. She looked at me her green eyes challenging, and handed me the pen. I clutched it and it snapped, ink spilling all over the page, soiling the documents.

Her face was red with restrained anger, this was usually her tell, she would explode dealing with anger and then she'd storm out, and cry away her sadness all alone. But why would she be sad? Doesn't she know that this is the best offer she could have possibly gotten?

She yelled obscenities at me. I took it in, using that as validation to everything I felt toward myself, but then she hugged me and sobbed into my chest undoing all of the damage her words caused.

She left.

But the universe wasn't done with me yet, I was going to see her again. My heart was still beating, that was not good-bye.

I was a quarterback before the accident. I tore my ACL brutally, enough for medication. I loved football, knowing that I might never play the same, horrified me. Everyday I'd take the prescribed dose, and when the pain faded away, I was still in crutches, I still couldn't play. So, I kept taking them. I stole some from my dentist's office, and got a nurse to give me another bottle.

Soon I was an addict.

Me entering Rehab was big news, and me leaving Rehab was a big thing. There was bound to be a party, courtesy of Izzy, there was bound to be Clary, courtesy of everybody. And even though I was glad that Clary wasn't permanently erased from my life, I still felt the dull ache that she would have another copy of divorce paper and that she would make me sign them.

When I saw her clutching a folder my ache developed into all out horror.

She introduced herself to my teammates, she greeted the Lightwoods. She walked right up to me and cursed me out.

After she was done, she jumped and snatched my ear dragging me into the library

"Don't say those words."

She looked at me in complete shock.

I continued; this was the most alive I felt in years.

"Take it easy, Clary. I'm still broken, memories enough to tear me wide open."

She opened her mouth but I continued over her retort.

"When you see me, you curse my name, makes me want to say. "No baby don't, you're making heart hurt. Don't say those words. Take it back you know you don't mean that."

She looked at me, a glow rising in her pallid complexion. I was quoting her, word for word. I don't get how she was surprised, I had nightmares about that night, how can I forget?

But despite her complexion, I saw it in her eyes, the distrust. I hurt her before. But that was a mistake I would never repeat. And despite that, I just might be reading into it too much, she might just be surprised in general, who's to say she remembers that night? Who's to say she cares?

Quietly she said "You swore when I wore your ring." I felt energy and the feeling I associate with Clary double in me. She remembered.

"It meant forever." I assured her, looking for my ring on her finger, it wasn't there. Her hands were bandaged.

I took her hands gently in mine, studying them. Burns.

"What happened?" I ask.

She looks up at me her eyes big and sad. "I took it off, safe to say, were through."

And my heart broke, officially and permanently, but despite that, I pressed my lips to her bandaged knuckles.

"No matter what you do." I whisper softly to myself more than her as she walks away

"I will always love you." I say a little louder now, to a door, slightly open. Letting glimpses of the party slip in.

I laugh lowly, thinking of everything I lost "Well, I have to, because I promised." I look at my ring, then at the folder on the couch. I open it, all the divorce papers signed. Her signature's marking the page.

I slip the papers into my pocket.

Clary looks down, her hair falling as a curtain blocking her face. She looked at her bandaged fingers, and with her back to the party she admired her necklace. It was her wedding ring, slightly disfigured from when she threw it into her fireplace. But it wasn't so bad, she dived after it, seconds after. She was disappointed that Jace didn't look at her neck, didn't search for the ring.

But not enough to go through that again.

She did her part; it is about time he does his.

She heard him say that he loved her. But she didn't believe it, after so many hateful exchanges, that was not possible. They were different people then.

And sure, she was just as guilty, but living in constant pain was worse than living in eventual peace.

Yes, she still loved him. But unloving him was the next step to peace.

No matter how strong the pain.

I'm debating whether or not I should just turn this into a story, but I don't think so. I'm not particularly inspired, but comment any ideas and i might be inspired enough to change my mind!

xxxxx

Fall