Work Text:
Hyde knew his day wasn’t off to a great start when Kitty said, after spending thirty minutes pointing out how much she missed him and how he never visited until Hyde would cave and make a flimsy promise he’ll always have good reason to never follow through, “And let me talk to Jackie sometime. I still need to teach her how to properly bake those peanut butter chocolate chip cookies you like so much!”
It was her first time mentioning Jackie in almost a year, though it must’ve been something she’d been wanting to say for a while. Hyde thought about saying, Mrs. Forman, we broke up eighteen months ago and I’m sending her the divorce paper in three weeks, but what came out instead is, “I haven’t had those in years.”
“Oh, all the better!” Kitty gushed. “Then that means you’ll enjoy it all the more once I make you some when you visit!”
The other thing that made this call different, Jackie’s name aside, was that Hyde no longer had an excuse to not see the Formans. Everyone was getting older, and Hyde knew from Red that Kitty’s memory wasn’t as reliable as it once was. It wouldn’t be long until she forgot important things completely, given that she already started by forgetting Hyde’s throwaway comment during one of their calls a month after he and Jackie broke up that they no longer lived together.
“In her defense, you’re garbage at giving bad news,” Red told Hyde. “And there’s no way I’m telling her. You better do something about this, Steven, because hell knows I’m too old to.”
Hyde used to avoid visiting out of an irrational fear that if he showed his face again, he’d unexpectedly disappoint them with the person he’d become, even if he paid his dues, was well-liked by his employees, and sent them checks every month to pay back for letting him live with them for years. Now he avoided seeing them because that meant making them confront the fact that he was no longer with the person he vowed to be with forever. It was the kind of disappointment that unsettled him more than anything else, but the fact that Mrs. Forman didn’t recall what he said and Red liked to say he didn’t care what Hyde did because it was his own life he was fucking up, well.
It wasn’t like he had a choice, did he.
Jackie took the news gracefully, because that was the woman she became—cautious in showing emotion, civil and courteous without being insulting. In contrast, Hyde liked to think he learned how to swallow his pride every once in a while. Some things didn’t change though, like Jackie insisting that they meet in one of the priciest cafes in the block for coffee on Sunday morning, and Hyde beginning to realize that the offer he was about to make is so stupid only Kelso would think of it.
For a time, Angie liked to say that ever since he and Jackie split after four years into what was honestly not that bad of a marriage, Jackie took the majority of their shared common sense, which was why Hyde had been doing nothing but being an idiot.
Hyde made the suggestion anyway. Jackie paused, as if she didn’t quite understand what she’s hearing. Her lip gloss was light and shiny. “Let me get this straight,” she began. “You want me to go with you to visit Mr. and Mrs. Forman because she thinks we’re still married and you refuse to tell her she’s wrong.”
Parroting it back to him, the idea sounded less idiotic and more mean. But that was nothing new. “Basically. So you in?”
Jackie leaned back on her seat and crossed her arms. “What happened to the Steven I knew that wasn’t afraid to break a woman’s heart?”
She meant it jokingly; growing up meant getting over some things that used to mean a lot to them when they were younger, and they knew each other long enough to know when they were kidding around. At least that hadn’t changed since they split. It didn’t stop Hyde from thinking of responding with, that guy stopped being worth shit when he broke yours twice, or technically, we’re still hitched, since he had yet to give her the papers.
He only sighed. “It’s Mrs. Forman, Jackie. Even you can’t say no to her.”
Every time Hyde saw Jackie, she was always a little different from before. It wasn’t just the new set of clothes, things he never saw in their closet back when it was shared, and neither was it how her hair was always held up to appear more mature and tidier, or how her makeup palette had changed; it was the way she was less fidgety when she got excited or impatient about something, the way she knew when to wait for people to finish what they needed to say before making a point. It was how her eyes would say the answer before her mouth would, and how Hyde didn’t know if it was something he still knew as intimately as before.
He at least understood the look Jackie gave him, the kind that meant she might’ve done it just to prove him wrong, but they’d outgrown trying to spite one another. “Fine. But I’m in charge of the music during the trip.”
Mostly outgrown it.
Two days of contact made a difference when there’d been eighteen months of separation, but even that paled in comparison to nearly ten years of being together—not in love, because Hyde never stopped, and he liked to think she didn’t either.
It wasn’t like he and Jackie cut off all contact completely since their split; a ten-minute phone call here and there, asking mutual friends how the other has been doing, seeing one another in the bakery conveniently situated between their homes once every two months because they’re both too stubborn to try anything new.
On the drive there, Jackie took control of the radio and played nothing but Frank Sinatra. Hyde always had a problem with her choice in music, but Frank Sinatra had been neutral territory for him until the singer’s entire discography was blasting in the car. Eventually, Jackie took enough pity on his suffering and found a radio station that still paid homage to Zeppelin despite how they were disbanded, but the damage had already been done, and she complained about how he needed to stop circling around the same five bands and listen to something new.
Hyde zoned her out, but when she realized this and predictably got mad, he thought saying that Come Fly With Me looping in his head in lieu of voice was a plausible defense.
They weren’t holding hands when they greeted Mrs. Forman in the driveway entrance, but when Kitty whooped for joy and gave each of them ten-second-long hugs, Jackie silently inched closer to him and wrapped her arm around his. For a moment, Hyde forgot that they hadn’t been that physically close in eighteen months and they were doing this for show.
Kitty and Red were having a late breakfast, even if noon was only an hour away. There wasn’t enough left for Hyde and Jackie, and Kitty missed cooking for more than two so much she quickly prepared a second serving of everything and insisted they finish it since it was fresh and they must’ve been staring from the trip. She offered them chairs next to one another, the space between them so small their thighs were pressed together. It was physical affection they hadn’t shared in months, and though Hyde missed the warmth of any part of her touching his, he realized it felt natural, like they never really stopped.
They talked about the same things Hyde and Kitty always talk about over the phone, but then the conversation segued to Jackie because she never joined the calls and Hyde stopped mentioning her sometime ago.
“It’s nice to see that you two are still going strong ‘till now,” Kitty said. “You remind me so much of Red and I when we were younger. It’ll only be about time before you two will be in our place.” Hyde didn’t understand where she was going with this until she asked, “Have you got any plans for a kid?”
Red nearly choked on his food. “Kitty!”
“What?” Kitty frowned. “I just wanted to ask if they wanted to make a family! It’s family. Heaven knows Eric and Donna aren’t going to give us grandchildren anytime soon.”
To Jackie’s credit, all she did in response was shift her seat, moving away from Hyde and looking down at her plate. She used to do the opposite whenever she was uncomfortable, move closer to him to feel safe. Back then, when they were much younger, it was hard when they fought, because they needed distance.
“None so far, Mrs. Forman,” Hyde said, not because the two of them weren’t together anymore. “We’ve got other stuff on our plate right now.”
“Oh.” Kitty paused. “Well, that makes sense. Kids nowadays are so ambitious with other things. So, Jackie, how’s work? Steven is privy enough about his record shop, so of course he never tells me a thing about you.”
No one protested the shift in topic. Jackie shared about her fussy interns at the broadcasting station, the place she’d gone to, the people she’d met. Hyde listened, because these things were new to him too. They saw one another after they broke up, but their conversations were surface-level, trying to relearn that being separated meant no longer boring one another with details neither of them actually minded.
It was like they acted awkward around one another because that was what the world expected of them, given the nature of their relationship. The way things were between them, cordial but distant, intentionally uncertain before slowly shifting into something genuine, only worked out because they met scarcely to begin with. It wasn’t that great, even if it was right. Hyde missed her voice, her enthusiasm when she talked about even the most mundane things, her expectation that he’d care because he cared about her.
“Steven, Jackie,” Kitty later told them. “We made some renovations to the basement since you left, but I made sure to tidy up your room in a way that made it still look like the one you had back when you were living here. It’ll just be like old times! Sometimes it still feels like yesterday when Red, Eric, and I caught Jackie secretly sleeping over with you with her parents gone down there.”
Hyde glanced at Jackie, who only looked amused at the recollection.
Once Kitty was out of earshot, returning all the dishes, Hyde shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly and said, “I can take the couch outside.”
“It’s okay.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I know you don’t,” Jackie said. “But I don’t mind either.”
She returned to Kitty’s side before Hyde could ask what she meant, shoulder brushing against his.
Eventually, Forman and Donna showed up, because unlike Hyde, Forman actually fulfilled his promises to his mom and always visited.
Their rings were much simpler than Hyde and Jackie’s—Jackie wouldn’t have agreed to his proposal if he didn’t buy her the most glamourous ring, but it was expensive enough for her to stop wearing it after they got the marriage certificate, reasoning that they were now for her eyes alone—but Hyde’s eyes kept on straying to it like it was his first time seeing them. They held hands and refused to let go of one another as they greeted Kitty before searching for Red in the garage, close because they always had been the endgame among their friends, childhood friends that couldn’t be imagined apart.
Still, Hyde remembered how they broke off their engagement, how they gave up their dreams for each other, how they left one another for vague selfish reasons—difficult things that made all of Jackie and Hyde’s problems seem insignificant in comparison, but here Forman and Donna were: still together. Not pretending to be something they weren’t. Happy and entirely certain of themselves.
It didn’t take long before Forman and Jackie—the most unlikely of friendships, but it was a testament to how far they’ve come, even if both of them will always deny it—started talking about action figures and dolls since they attended the same exhibitions, even at their age. Hyde wanted to head down to the basement because that was where Red kept the beer, and he tugged Jackie’s hand to get her attention. They weren't glued to one another the same way Forman and Donna were, the way the two of them used to be, but Hyde knew Jackie didn’t like it when he just disappeared without an explanation.
Between responding to Forman and hearing Kitty’s voice telling her she was needed in the kitchen, she could only nod in response to Hyde in affirmation that she understood. Before Hyde realized what he was doing, leant down to kiss her forehead.
Jackie froze, and Forman and Donna looked at the two of them in surprise. Hyde immediately pulled back and turned around, beginning to walk away and down the basement as if nothing had happened out of embarrassment, rather than because he was supposed to appear zen about this. It was humiliating, for sure, but Jackie hadn’t called him out on it, and a part of him was annoyed by how he didn’t want to feel guilty to begin with.
Predictably, as Hyde was looking through the freezer for beer, Donna followed after him, saying, “When you said last week that Jackie was probably seeing someone, did you mean—”
“No, I didn’t mean me,” he answered. “And that ‘Harvey’ guy she was sweet-talking turned out to be the dog of her neighbor.”
Donna snorted. “Can’t believe a dog made you jealous.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Sure,” she said. “So the two of you are back—”
“We aren’t.”
“So what the hell was that in the living room?”
Slipping up, Hyde thought. “Putting on a show,” he replied. “Mrs. Forman forgot we called it quits.”
“And your solution to that was to lie to her face and pretend?”
“I doubt she’d love the idea if we were honest.”
“Uh-huh. And how about the next time you visit? You’re gonna keep on pretending?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
Donna scoffed. “Because that’s worked out so well for you.” She reached down to get her own beer before flopping down on the couch. For a long beat, she said nothing, just stared at him as he twisted the cap open like there was something she was trying to figure out. “You still love her, don’t you.”
“Shut up,” Hyde grumbled, sitting beside her, but the look on Donna’s face told him that he’d given her the confirmation she needed. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve got the divorce papers back in Chicago—might give them to her after this.”
“Might,” Donna repeated. “So you might not.” Hyde gave her an unimpressed look. She raised her hands placatingly. “Look, when was the last time you and Jackie ever had more than a day together? All I’m saying is that maybe this is some cosmic sign that you two should work things out.”
“Did you just say ‘cosmic sign’? Man, you’ve been with Forman for too long.”
“It’s called being married, dilhole. Something I thought you knew pretty well,” Donna retorted, elbowing him. “Hyde, you and Jackie—you were good together. Still are, if it’s that easy for you to act. You never even told us why you two broke up either! We thought it was because of the kid thing, but—”
“It’s not.” His tone came out sharper than he meant to. “Donna, you gotta let that go. It’s been years.”
“Exactly. Nothing seemed to be going wrong.”
Hyde sighed. He thought about confessing that it wasn’t because of what they expected—one big issue that ruined everything. Thought about saying that he and Jackie argued a lot, but it was in the same way every other couple did, always over small crap, stuff they only made a big deal out of from a lack of any serious, life-changing problem. Leaving the toilet seat up, rescheduling romantic dates, bickering about how much they paid for an item, going on work trips that lasted for weeks alone.
Things were good between them, all things considered, after a very long time of not always being so sure of the fact. But it always haunted them, the fact that they were a mess when they were teenagers, that those very small things they never thought too deeply about now used to mean so much to them and it would just build up into something bigger ‘till things would just explode.
The reality was that Hyde wasn’t willing to risk that happening again, wasn’t willing to risk one or the both of them doing something stupid enough to change everything for the worse, because even if they bounced back, there might’ve came a time when they wouldn’t be able to. He told as much to Jackie, those eighteen months ago, one of the few times he was honest with his feelings, his fears. Jackie said she felt the same. She was tired of hurting him that way, just as he was tired of doing the same to her.
“Things were probably bound to though,” Hyde admitted to Donna. “Given our track record. So we broke up when things were still sort of good, so we wouldn’t have to deal with it getting worse.”
They didn’t break up because they didn’t love each other, but because they did.
“Jesus.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re a mess,” Donna said, before letting out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what I really want to say, but I think I’m too sober to do it. I think I’m gonna need to loosen up a bit first.”
Hyde hadn’t lit up in forever, mostly because it just wasn’t the same when it wasn’t with his friends. “Well, if you’ve got some stash, I’m not saying no.”
“Okay, here’s the thing,” Donna began, speech slightly slurred. “Angie’s right—you did lose all your common sense when you and Jackie split. Even breaking up ‘cause Jackie can’t have kids would’ve made more sense!”
Hyde’s head was foggy, but he froze, joint still between his fingertips. He hadn’t taken as much as Donna. The feeling wasn’t like what it used to be. “I hope that’s the weed talking.”
“Let me finish before threatening me, asshole,” Donna snapped. “I know Jackie’s still sensitive about it, and it’s not her fault—hell, I was the first person she told when she found out. But she also hid that shit from you for the six months you were trying, and it was the biggest fight Eric and I ever saw you two have because Jackie makes the worst assumptions about why you’re with her and you hate it when she never gives you a straight answer when you ask her what’s wrong.”
“Okay,” Hyde said. “And?”
When Donna looked at him, her expression softened, in spite of the cloudy look in her eyes. “It wasn’t that long ago when you always said ‘I don’t know’ to her and how she always got mad that you thought something was going on between her and Kelso, Hyde. And even though you had huge, huge fights about it, in the end, you both moved on from that shit. Just because things always went sideways before doesn’t mean it’ll happen now. Because now… things are different. You’re both different.”
Hyde paused. “So you’re telling me to have faith in… me and Jackie.”
Donna shrugged. “Well, that’s supposed to be what marriage is all about.”
“Huh.” He glanced down. “Damn, should I be smoking more of this?”
“I’m serious,” Donna told him, even though she was now trying to balance their two empty beer cans on her fingertips. “I know that you’re divorcing, but before you do it and change everything, it might do you some good to remember why you wanted to get married in the first place.”
Hyde kind of hated it when his friends made a point. “Thanks.”
Hyde was fully sobered up and hungry as hell by the time dinner rolled around. He spent the hour and a half prior helping Mrs. Forman in the kitchen, offering to make a lasagna recipe that he’d taken pride in over the years. Jackie was with Red because he needed help with the car, and Kitty made a joke that Red saw Jackie as more of a daughter than Laurie, and he was glad to have her as a daughter-in-law, even if he’d never admit it.
Donna and Eric exchanged looks. Hyde pretended he didn’t notice.
Dinner was loud, louder than anything Hyde had experienced in a while even though it was nothing different from the ones he used to have when he still lived with the Formans. When Jackie whispered to him, a quiet admission she didn’t owe him but said regardless, “I miss this. Family”, Hyde instinctively squeezed her knee, struck by how the words hit him. He appreciated that he had all this to begin with, and felt guilty for taking it granted. He shouldn’t have taken this long to see them when they’d given him nearly everything when he had nothing, and even now, they didn’t hold it against him for taking this long to come back.
He understood why Kitty had asked about family to him and Jackie, because it meant a lot to both of them when they’d been abandoned by the people who were supposed to be those figures in their lives. Now, they were meant to have the chance to start their own, and that hadn’t worked out for them either—in more ways than one.
Everyone turned in early after dessert and cleaning up, a glaring reminder that they weren’t young anymore. Still, something about Jackie was restless, mind lost in thought. She wrinkled her nose when she went down to the basement, and Hyde said, “Donna and I lit up while you and Forman were upstairs. Should’ve offered, but…”
Jackie waved a hand. “At least some things about this basement haven't changed.” She brushed her fingers against the chairs and the TV, newly replaced and upgraded. She suddenly looked tired, and older, and still beautiful, and she looked like she was waiting for something, waiting for him to say something. Hyde didn’t know what that was, but that wasn't the first time.
“Say,” he offered instead. “Wanna get out of here?”
He took her to the same spot in Mount Hump they'd gone to on Veteran's Day, all those years ago. Returning to Point Place was all in all a trip down memory lane, but Hyde was a different man from the person who spent so much of his life in the town, and he felt it.
Cliffsides held more romantic appeal, but Hyde had never been too good at those, even now, and this one still had a neat view of the sky. Even when they were dating, he never took her here, as if the place was tainted by the fact that she was only interested in him then because she was trying to get over Kelso. If she noticed how he never brought up anything about that time, she didn’t comment on it, acted like it never happened either.
But that had been years ago. Now, instead of pop, they had a bottle of wine that Kitty sneakily slipped into the El Camino while they weren’t looking, probably as a surprise parting gift, and as Hyde settled on the trunk of the car, Jackie finally joined him with tupperware in her hands. When she opened the lid, inside were peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.
“I made them with Mrs. Forman while you and Donna were in the basement,” Jackie explained. She handed him a piece. “Try one. They’re good.”
Hyde knew how Jackie was in the kitchen. He had always been the one in charge of preparing their meals, and even when Jackie moved out, he knew she hired a cook to come and prepare food if she didn’t buy or eat out. The skepticism must’ve been obvious on his face, even with the sunglasses, because Jackie rolled her eyes and said, “Mrs. Forman supervised. Properly, this time. Eat it, Steven!”
The cookie turned out to taste great. Still mildly warm in his hands with a crusty outer layer to hold together the soft, chewy center. The peanut butter and chocolate chip melted in his tongue, almost overwhelmingly so, but the love put into making it was the same. Hyde could tell that much; he used to do the same thing whenever Jackie came back home from a horrible day at work and he made her food she liked.
“So?” She asked him expectantly. Music was humming from the car radio. Hyde had rolled the windows down and cranked the volume, because the radio stations tended to play rad songs at the late hour. “Is it good or is it good?”
“I don’t hate it,” he said. Jackie nudged him harshly with her foot, brows knitted together in dissatisfaction. Hyde couldn’t help but smile. “You could quit your job and start a bakery selling this.”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “Very funny.” Despite her annoyance, she was leaning towards him, as if she was tempted to breach the gap between them. He thought about draping his arm over her shoulder, but settled for resting his hand beside hers. “You know,” she suddenly said thoughtfully. “If you think about how all of our dates have gone before, this one is the best one yet. And we’re not even together anymore.”
“Jackie, we just got here and haven’t done shit.”
“Exactly,” she said. “Maybe that’s why we never got a proper one when we were married.”
“We still are,” Hyde finally said. “Technically.”
“Technically,” she started. “You were going to send me the divorce papers when we got back. I slipped away from Mrs. Forman early on for a few seconds and overheard you two.”
She didn’t sound mad, but she didn’t have a reason to. Divorce was the next step, after all, after those months that stretched into nearly two years of not being together. But in some way, in some moments, Hyde felt like that time had passed the same manner weeks of missing one another did, like they’d grown to be long-distance lovers and finally reunited in a way that wasn’t terribly dramatic and gut-wrenching. He liked it that way, if only because the ease with her was still ever-present. He didn’t think it’d ever go away so long as he loved her, so long as he knew she loved him too.
“You never told me if you met someone new,” Hyde said.
“That’s because I haven’t,” Jackie answered. “I… don’t think I will.”
That wasn’t really what Hyde meant to say. He thought he understood why Donna felt the need to get high first before telling him what she really felt, but he thought about how he was trying not to be that man anymore, the one who was terrified of saying what he really felt, and he thought about how there was a chance that he hadn’t been that man for a while. He wasn’t the Steven Hyde who wasn’t afraid to break a woman’s heart by withholding the truth. He wasn’t the Steven Hyde that still had the gall to hurt Jackie.
“Told Donna why we split. She said a few words, mostly that we were stupid for doing it, and it made me wonder if she was right,” he admitted. “You think it was a mistake for us to break up?”
“We broke up because we didn’t want to hurt each other anymore,” Jackie reminded him. Her voice had grown quiet. “Because that’s what we always used to do, back when things were good, before getting mildly bad, before becoming a complete mess.”
“But that was before,” Hyde pointed out. “We’re a lot different now, y’know? And maybe that changes lotsa stuff. Maybe it changes everything, and we’ve just been looking at it wrong, ‘cause we think we’ve stayed the same.”
“That’s true. The Steven from before would’ve never proposed, and then we wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.”
“Thank god for that,” he said, and Jackie laughed. “Can you honestly say you regret it, doll?”
“Of course not.”
“So that means this is it, huh.”
He felt Jackie’s eyes on him, as if something had just occurred to her. “You’re right, Steven,” she said softly, slowly tilting her head up to the sky. “We really have changed. You would’ve never asked me so many questions about us when we were in high school.”
Finally, Hyde glanced at her, catching the amusement in her voice, the hint of nostalgia for something he knew she didn’t miss too much. “Thanks for coming with me,” he told her. “Back here. I know you didn’t do it for Mrs. Forman, so you should know… I didn’t ask for you to be with me one last time for her either. I did it for me, because I miss us.” Jackie snapped her gaze towards him, surprised. “And I’m sorry for screwing up and telling you we should end this ‘cause it was getting hard. Literally broke one of the rules of marriage right then and there—through thick and thin.”
“...Oh, Steven.” She sighed, though her eyes no longer glistened the way they would whenever she said that, like he gave her something priceless and unexpected and something she didn’t deserve, because that wasn’t what his words meant to her anymore. Donna was right on the nose. They had grown into different people, and didn’t love one another any less than that; and even if they stayed the same, that didn’t mean deciding to quit. Hyde was no longer a coward, and he kept his promises, even if it took him a damn while to see it. “That speech was almost as good as the one you made when you proposed.”
Hyde blinked. “Jackie, I didn’t make a speech when I proposed.”
“You didn’t need to. I understood you,” she replied, before clasping her hand with his. Her eyes flickered at their conjoined fingers, bare of any promise ring, but she rubbed that spot on his finger where they used to be with a gentle look on her face. Her expression said all he needed to know, even before she spoke. It was nice to know he hadn’t lost his touch yet. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life—and most of them had to do with marriage. I didn’t want us breaking up after finally getting married to be one of them, but maybe it’ll be the first mistake that I’d be proud of. Because, Steven, I want to be with you.”
The words made Hyde’s mouth quirk. “Because you love—”
Jackie kissed him before he could finish his sentence. He wrapped his arms around her and reciprocated, tasting the wine on her lips as she likely tasted the chocolate that lingered in his mouth. Frank Sinatra began to play again, but Hyde was fully in the moment.