Entry tags:

!complete, cotton weary, sidney prescott

Who: Cotton Weary purecotton & Sidney Prescott hellosidney
What: Talking about writing books
When: Backdated, August 11, early afternoon
Where: Garden Grove Regional Library; Civic Center Branch
Rating: Audience Discretion is Advised
Warnings: Discussion of rape, false accusations of sexual acts committed with a minor, prison stays which involved false imprisonment, and probably some other heavy topics since they aren't exactly "light" characters even if Sidney is Out of Darkness.
Status: Closed/Completed GDoc

~*~

Teenagers got a pass when they were upset by some kind of tragedy. It was as if the public always looked at them as being underage when they were tearful faces on the cameras, but if it were a teeanger who had commited a crime? Oh that was a whole other ballgame. They were smart enough to stand trial, absolutely! Yes, indeed, they should be charged as an adult! Why, everyone remembered being so mature at that age! It was completely ridiculous to consider them to be a kid when they were almost old enough to join the armed forces!

Cotton Weary had been torn apart in the media for a while when he'd been using the the holes in Sidney Prescott's testimony to try to get his conviction overturned. He'd been beaten so many times in prison, the guards had stopped making him do his personal upkeep unless someone from the outside was going to see him. No guards wanted to volunteer to stand in the showers to keep him safe, but Cotton's lawyer was a ferocious, man-hating bitch who was close friends with the reporter, Gale Weathers.

She had been his savior during his incarceration; he knew he wouldn't have lived through the experience if it hadn't been for her tireless efforts to prove he was innocent. Cotton still didn't know why she'd done it. He'd offered her money, but she'd refused. He'd offered her guest appearances on his show she had only done when they'd helped him since she claimed she didn't need help getting clients. Finally, Cotton had even offered to take her out, personally, privately, to say thanks, just in case she was interested, but she'd only hugged him and told him to never forget he was the innocent one.

Cotton had wondered sometimes. After the other prisoners were done with him. Was he really innocent or had he just blocked out his memories of the crimes because they had been so terrible he couldn't face them? Two different experts in clinical psychology had testified for the prosecution to say it was possible Cotton Weary could have passed a lie detector test while being guilty since he could really believe his own lies. They had made him think he was a sociopath, a psychopath, a complete monster.

His notebook was blank, but he couldn't take his eyes off it as he heard footsteps approaching. He knew it was Sidney without looking at her. She had a sound to her walking which was uniquely her own.

"Thank you. For coming. Showing up. I wondered if you would."

He'd texted her after getting the number from his lawyer who had contacted her lawyer. It hadn't been an attempt to force her into another public appearance with him. Cotton had only wanted---a chance away from the cameras to see what he could find out about her side of the story. She was a writer herself. It would help to have some kind of insight to how the other half had lived if he was going to tell his own story. Cotton wanted to do it, too. On his own. Ghostwriters were for pussies.

~*~

The text message came as a surprise to Sidney. While she'd know Cotton was in Orange County, she hadn't expected him to contact her, to be perfectly honest. They hadn't spoken since their last interview together, which had been many, many years ago back when Sidney had been a college student. She'd agreed because she'd felt horrible about accusing him of something he hadn't done, but now there wasn't any real reason for her to speak with him.

Still, the guilt lingered, and Sidney figured she owed Cotton Weary more than she'd ever be able to pay back at this point.

Sid cleared her schedule for the day once they'd worked out details. It was only fair that she give him her day, and besides, the only thing she had to work on was her outline for her new book and a few promotions for her last one. There really wasn't much going on in her life now that her book tour was over, though in order to keep sales going she had to keep up with promotions.

She dressed in a simple sundress, with a light jean jacket to cover her arms from the chill of the AC in the library, comfortable sandals and her hair was pulled half-way up, secured with a barrette.

Entering the library, Sidney glanced around, and spotted Cotton. She took in a deep breath before making her way over to where he sat. A line of worry appeared between her brows as he didn't look up at her, and she cleared her throat before taking a seat at the table.

"You're welcome. I had no intentions of standing you up." A light smile pulled up the corners of her mouth, and she shifted slightly in her seat so she could cross one leg over the other. "So how are you doing, Cotton?"

~*~

Every answer which came through his head was dismissed as soon as it appeared. Cotton wasn't sure how he was doing. He was physically in better shape than he'd ever been in. His personal stylist did an impeccable job of making certain he looked amazing off and on camera. No one could complain about how he kept himself up. There was no reason for him not to indulge in a shower two or even three times a day now he wasn't in prison any longer; sometimes he didn't get out until the water ran cold trying to feel clean again.

He had a feeling telling Sidney Prescott he didn't think he'd ever feel clean again wouldn't be a good move for him.

Pity wasn't what he wanted from her.

Cotton wasn't sure what he wanted from her.

He did offer her a genuine smile as he met her eyes, "You would be the first woman in a very long time to stand me up if you did, but I like to think I'd have understood. We both---didn't do well for a while. I think I'm better. Some days. It's hard to put into words."

That was why he wanted to write. Cotton thought if he could find the words, if he could put them down on paper, share them, get them out there, he could purge some of the darkness from his own soul. Sidney used writing to help her. Surely she could understand his motivation. No one thought he needed more money. Cotton never wanted for anything with the checks coming in from guest appearances, endorsements, and then there were all the fees for his show being rebroadcast in syndication on network after network.

Arendelle Network alone would make him a very rich man for the rest of his life even if he never did another live show.

"I want to try. Words. I want to write a book. My book. My agent keeps asking me to share my story. I've done interviews. We did a few together, but you were young and I wasn't in any shape to share anything except the basic truth. People want to know more. I don't know how I feel about telling them more, but I think if I do? It might make things easier on me. I might sleep better. Have fewer dreams. Nightmares. Whatever you want to call them."

Looking back down at his blank notebook, Cotton asked, "Would you mind giving me some insight on your side of the story? In your own words. I don't want to read interview transcripts. I don't want to rewatch court footage. I want to talk to you and hear you tell me why you were so convinced I was guilty. Think you'd be willing to do that? I'll give you credit in the book. Royalties if I sell the damn thing. List you as a co-author if you want. Whatever. I just want to know."

'I deserve to know,' Cotton thought without saying.

~*~

So that was the reason.

Sidney shifted in her seat, eyes darting around the library quickly to see if anyone looked as if they were listening in on their conversation. It was not that she didn't want to talk about things, she just wanted to make sure that it was between the two of them.

Cotton did deserve the truth, and if he was writing a book from his perspective with her words thrown in, she wanted him to be the one to tell the story, not some two bit reporter that thought they could earn a quick buck on his story. "That's good," she opted to comment on the book bit first with a smile, "it is helpful when it comes to fighting the nightmares." It had helped her more than she could express, but it was the guilt that kept her up at night.

Maybe if she told Cotton the truth her guilt would be lessened and she'd be able to get a good night's sleep.

Taking in a deep breath, Sidney thought back to when Tatum had disappeared. The lights at the police station had been bright, harsh enough to make Sidney feel the need to wince. The detective assigned to Tatum's case had reassured Sidney that she was doing the right thing, and with her mother at her side, Sidney felt that everything would be okay. Sidney was Tatum's best friend, she had to know what was going on, where she'd been, who she'd been with.

The last time that Sidney had seen Tatum was at school the day she disappeared, she'd been talking with Cotton Weary. The way Tatum had been looking at him, and the way Cotton had smiled at her had sent alarm bells going off in Sidney's mind. On any other normal day, Sidney would have waited for Tatum, but fate had had other plans. Just as she had gotten into her father's car she'd seen him hand over his coat to her on that rainy afternoon.

That had been enough for the police, and her mother to pressure her into talking more.

Sighing, Sidney look over at him. "It was a Friday, I remember because my dad was in a hurry to get me to my mother's before she pitched another fit on him." Rolling her eyes, Sidney shifted slightly in her seat before continuing. "I looked back toward the school, and right there close to the exit I saw you and Tatum talking underneath the awning cause it was just starting to rain. On any normal day she would've rode with us, but I couldn't find her after the last bell which was strange." They'd really been attached at the hip during most of their school years, but at that point and time, Tatum had been pulling away from her.

Sidney hadn't understood why until much later in her life.

"She was giving you that flirty smile she gave most guys." Sidney let out a small laugh and shook her head, "I didn't think much of that, I mean, it was Tatum after all." Her brows furrowed slightly, a line appearing between them, "But the way you smiled at her made me think that something else was going on, and then I really believed that something was when I saw you give her your jacket. It really didn't matter to me one way or another if there was something going on, to be honest with you. I mean, I'd seen the two of you talking for weeks, I was honestly hopeful that she'd found someone else other than Stu." Reaching up, Sidney scratched her jaw before dropping her hand back down into her lap. "I called her at least twice that night after I arrived at my mother's home. Her mom took the message and said that she'd let her know once she got in from cheerleading practice. Again, I didn't think much of it, and went to bed early. The next morning the police came to the door, and took myself and my mother down to the station after asking me a few questions at her house."

They'd wanted an official statement, something that they could record to put down for evidence after Sidney had said she'd seen Cotton speaking with Tatum. "I told them exactly what I'd seen, nothing more, nothing less. Then they began to ask me other questions, pushing for more information and I told them what I knew. Then they asked for my own personal thoughts about everything. I didn't want to tell them I thought something might be going on between you two, because it didn't feel right to say, but I was scared because they started saying that I'd be obstructing justice if I didn't say anything."

~*~

"I was twenty-five. Tatum was seventeen. You were seventeen. No jury in the world is letting a guy slide on an eight year age difference between himself and a high school student. I wasn't a rich guy. I didn't have a really good education. I was smart enough to know better than to take out a girl who would literally get me thrown in jail though."

Cotton picked at the edges of the notebook in front of him. It was easier than looking at Sidney. She was easy to look at in some ways. Sidney had always had a sophisticated look to her. Even when she'd been a teenager, she'd been striking. Her mother had looked a lot less classy. Cotton had met Maureen Prescott more than once both before, during, and after the trial. The woman was persistent. It was hard to believe she and Sidney shared any relationship at all much less a mother-daughter tie.

He couldn't blame Sidney for thinking it was possible.

If he was being very, very honest?

Cotton had flirted with Tatum Riley. More than once. He'd teased her a lot more than he should have, let her get too close, made jokes with her no one would have said were appropriate for a man his age to make around a girl hers. It had been flattering to think a girl with the kind of wealth and looks Tatum had possessed would flirt back with him. None of the girls in her league had done it when he'd been seventeen, that was for damn sure. It took a lot to look up at Sidney to give her a crooked grin.

"I did flirt with her. I never kissed her. I never touched her. I never did more than flirt, but I knew I shouldn't have done it when I was doing it. Girls like Tatum? Girls like you? They hadn't even looked at me twice when I was seventeen. My ego loved the attention she gave me. I worried about her because I got too close. No one paid attention to me except her---and I suppose you."

People who went to schools like they went to tended not to notice The Help.

"I overheard Stu and Billy talking. They were laughing about the webcam. How they were filming her. How she was an internet star and didn't know it. How she was so stupid. I wanted to say something, but what was I going to do? Get into a fight with two teenage boys? I told Tatum about it. She said she'd handle it. I gave her my jacket because she was determined to walk in the rain rather than ride home with Stu. I didn't think they'd hurt her. I swear I didn't think they'd hurt her and I never, ever touched her myself."

It was hard to tell whether Sidney believed him now or not. He couldn't help the insistent tone in his voice, the pleading for her to understand. Cotton had spent over a year begging people to listen to him. He'd begged people to believe him.

"I begged them to believe I didn't do it in prison. How far do you think that got me? I was a guy who raped and murdered someone's little girl because the police wanted their arrest. I know all about saying whatever they want you to say to make it all stop. I got really, really good at saying what I was told to say. So that was it for you? They told you to make sure you were telling the whole truth and you said you thought it was me because you thought I was with her? They didn't ask you for dates? Proof? Do you think they ever believed I was even possibly innocent?"

~*~

Swallowing hard, Sidney looked down at her hands in her lap, fingers twisting as much as her insides. A day hadn't gone by that she hadn't thought of Tatum, but she tried hard not to think about the details of the trial. For many years they'd haunted her dreams, and for the year after she'd truly hated Cotton Weary for what she believed he'd done.

The years that followed his release had been filled with nightmares of what she'd done to an innocent man. Sidney had felt a lot of guilt, still felt it as a matter of fact, and she knew she didn't deserve his forgiveness.

Her eyes went back to his face, brows furrowed slightly. She trusted that he hadn't touched her, flirt with her, sure, but she believed him when he said he didn't touch her. Not that it would've really mattered to Sidney if he had. Cotton was a good looking man, he always had been, so Sidney couldn't have faulted Tatum for falling for him.

"No, I don't think that they did to be honest with you." Sidney replied with a sad shake of her head, "They asked for dates, for some proof, and I gave them timeframes that I could remember." Letting out a long breath, Sidney kept her gaze steady on Cotton's face. "I wish I could change the past, that I hadn't been so afraid and confused. So gullible." She made a slight sound of disgust at herself, "I was convinced that you'd done it. I have no other sound reasons other than outside influences that resulted in me believing the lies that were told even though at that time I believed them to be truth." She sighed again, and shook her head.

Sidney couldn't even begin to imagine what he must've went through while he was in prison. She didn't want to know, or ask for that matter. There was no point in hearing more about his pain, and only adding to her guilt.

"I know it's not a lot, but I'm sorry for everything. I -- when you found me after you'd been released I wanted to tell you then, but I was still afraid. Hell, I think I live my life in a constant state of fear even if I don't show it." A light laugh parted her lips and she reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Really, there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about that, and wish I could've done things differently."

~*~

Sidney Prescott had an honest face. Her voice was sincere. Cotton himself hadn't been able to believe she was lying when she testified against him even though he knew he didn't do what she thought he did. It had been surreal to listen to that quiet girl talking about how she believed he had been sleeping with her friend, lured her into a relationship with him, killed her quickly and stashed her body. For a while, he'd tried to imagine what it would have been like to have been a man capable of all that subterfuge.

He had never been smart the way it would take to be a guy like that.

School wasn't the only thing which had been difficult for Cotton. He was a great charmer, but a really bad liar. No one ever believed him when he was lying. His face flushed. He had nervous habits. Those had gone away in prison courtesy of what would happen if he told the guards the truth about what was going on when their backs were turned. Cotton was a great liar now though his charm seemed more forced.

Fake.

Prison had made him seem like a fake.

"Prison was---hard. For me. Some guys? It's the only life they know. They're great at it. I met a lot of those guys. I got good at pretending. Fake it until you make it, right? Except I became this guy no one would believe. I don't blame you. I wondered if I had ever had a shot in Hell of getting a fair trial. It's good to know the answer was what I was expecting."

Guys like Cotton Weary didn't get a fair shake in life. There was a reason there would always be a lower class.

Picking at the edges of the notebook again, Cotton looked at it as he asked, "What are you afraid of? Me? I know what scares me. I know why I still keep a light on. I just don't know if I want to tell anyone why. Saying it out loud makes it worse somehow."

~*~

"More ridicule." Sidney answered with a shrug of her shoulders, "After you were found to be innocent, and after everything that happened the media painted me as a dumb teenager that lied to get all sorts of attention. I figured they would've found out about it and made it out to be some sort of weak ass apology that wasn't sincere." Much like Cotton, Sidney had worked hard to rebuild her own reputation.

Her work had probably been easier than Cotton's. She wasn't dismissing that simple fact. "I think we both had rebuilding to do after everything was said and done." She paused, lifting her hand, "Not that I'm saying that mine was worse since I know it wasn't." Sidney felt like an ass all over again, and she could feel heat rising up her neck and to her cheeks.

"I should probably stop talking." She laughed softly, and shook her head. "That's what I was mostly afraid of. I didn't think you'd think I was being sincere in my apology too, when that wasn't the case. I felt horribly ashamed by what I'd done. I still do." She admitted, looking down at her hands for a few moments before shaking her head.

Sidney worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a handful of seconds before finally looking back over at Cotton. "I'm glad that things have turned around for the better, and that you're doing so well." A light smile pulled up one corner of her mouth, "I've actually watched most of your shows."

~*~

Sidney hadn't been the first thing on Cotton's mind when he'd been released. He remembered a lot of those early interviews where he'd been alone on the stage with the anchor continuously trying to get him to talk on her. They hadn't managed well. Cotton knew better than to press his luck by badmouthing the teenage friend who had only wanted justice for the lost girl. Beyond his interviews about her or with her, Cotton couldn't recall how the media had reacted to Sidney after it was all said and done.

It had never occurred to him they might have been gnawing on her the way they ate at him: angry dogs chewing the same bone until it broke.

"Really?"

His thoughts were derailed as he tried to imagine Sidney Prescott at home watching his show. He sold the sensationalist aspect of it all. Cotton knew he was successful because he played into what the public wanted from him. Talent was a questionable commodity in reality television. Cotton was no investigative reporter. All his stories were submitted by fans then followed up by his research team before he presented the cases. The team had never let him down on his stories to date.

"Sorry. I just---never thought about what they might have said to you or about you in those early days. I can't picture you watching my show either. I would think I'd be the last face you'd want to stare at for an hour a day. I know I avoid looking in mirrors as much as possible."

That had him looking down at the table again, picking at his shirt sleeve.

Had he said too much?

Sidney was nearly as nervous as him which was its own surprise. Cotton wished he knew what to tell her without having to tell her everything. He decided he'd tread lightly and see where he wound up. They were doing well so far. Better than he'd anticipated. Cotton almost thought they were likely to have a breakthrough of the sort he often featured on Pure Cotton. Who would have thought asking her to talk would have been so easy? He had never imagined it would be like this when he spoke to Sidney.

"I never thought it'd be this easy. Talking to you. I always thought you'd hate me. Or want me dead. Sometimes I imagined you'd want to tell me how I was such an awful person I deserved everything I got inside. I spent two years in therapy just talking about why I couldn't talk to you. Funny, huh?"

~*~

Laughing, Sidney lifted a shoulder. "The first show I watched I actually came in about half-way through it because I fell asleep on the couch, and it was on when I woke up. I finished it, and actually liked it so…" She trailed off, with another small shrug of her shoulders. That was the truth of the matter, Sidney wasn't going to lie about it.

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, "It's fine. The past is the past in regards to the media. It was hard at the time, but I've learned that they only tell half-truths and manipulate interviews." At least, most of the media she'd dealt with had done that, even with her. They'd cut pieces in such a way to make it seem as if she'd said one thing, when really she'd said another or they'd put in a different question than the one they'd asked about.

It was extremely frustrating, which was why Sidney refused to do many interviews these days.

"I did hate you for a while, then it faded and was replaced by shame, and then I worked hard to forgive myself for what I'd done." There were still days when Sidney found she was trying to find forgiveness within herself, but it wasn't as bad as it had been during those first few years. A smile pulled up the corners of her lips, "I think it's easier 'cause these are our own terms, there's no cameras, or anyone here to pull any bullshit on us. But the feeling is mutual, it's easier than I thought it would be too."

She'd been scared when he'd texted her stating he wanted to talk, but still it was the least she could do after everything. "I'm glad we got this chance though, and I don't believe you deserved anything that happened on the inside. Not in the slightest." She still didn't want to think about what may or may not have happened to him during that time, even if he'd touched on it a little.

~*~

"I'm glad I was something nice to wake-up to," Cotton quipped, grinning at her, "I know I've been a lot less for some people. Thanks for giving me a chance. I appreciate it more than you know."

He had to fight back a wince when he realized Sidney was trying to dance around whether or not he'd been someone's fucktoy behind bars. She wouldn't say the word 'rape' at this time or in this place. Cotton knew enough about Sidney to know that much of her. She would think it though. Was thinking it. There was no doubt in Cotton's mind she was thinking about him. Her body language was enough to go on to tell him she didn't believe he had escaped prison unscathed.

There wasn't anything malicious in her reaction to him.

"I hope this turns out to be a good thing for us, Sid. This book? I want it to be a reason for us to breathe again. Freely. I want that for us both. Freedom. I think we've both been living behind bars of our own making. I want to set myself free. I want to set you free, too. I want to do one thing right. That's what I want."

Cotton had done a lot of wrong trying to make his way in the world. This book was his chance at real redemption. He wasn't going to waste it, especially not if Sidney was going to back him. She deserved him to give her the best chance he could manage. They had both lost something courtesy of the trial surrounding Tatum Riley's disappearance. They both deserved to get something back from it; Cotton was going to get them all he could with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help him God.

Amen.