DISCLAIMER : Not mine
A/N: A late post ep 9x05, month after he got the video. Unbetaed
The Happiness He Deserved
He replied it over and over again. Sometimes focusing only on the first part, to saw that distinct smile he hadn't saw for long time. Sometimes he paused at the middle, right after she said withers. More to pleased his ego, because for a second he could saw a glint of sadness in her eyes. The thought that she too, at some point might felt as miserable as he was somehow eased his sadness.
He could see a picture behind her. As blurry as it was, he knew it's the same image plastered in his refrigerator. One of their frisco things, she said once to him, thing that shown younger age, and endless possibility of happiness. Now that the end of his happiness had passed by, he could only saw the picture as a token of memory, too precious to be dumped, yet too painful to be kept.
"… For the first time in a really long time I'm happy" Came her smile again, with sincerity that almost brought tears to his eyes. When was the last time he felt happy, that genuine kind of happy. The day he saw her standing in his office after Warrick death, the time she laid beside him asking about Galapagos, the second she kissed him in front of Hodges. No, none of those times filled him with happiness. In fact, those were the times that brought him massive damages. Damages no one could heal not even Sara herself.
He flipped the laptop shut with more force than necessary. She seemed happy, and it was a video sent to him a month ago. Surely she was beyond happy now. Maybe she met other scientists on the boat, talked about physic, law of motions, Einstein, or even Obama. Maybe the boat anchored in an island filled with tropical birds, pineapples and stud surfers. Maybe as he was fidgeting around the house, she was dancing with one of the student in the deck, bathed by the moonlight. Wherever she was, he could only pictured her beaming, happy. A sudden pang of jealousy hit him. She's happy and he was not. She's smiling and he was not. That was wrong and needed to be fixed soon, he gravely decided.
He strode downstairs, reaching the kitchen by the fifth steps. Opening a cabinet and grabbed the bottle of amber liquid, he flipped his cellphone open. His eyes were browsing the contact list while he poured the fluid.
Catherine
No. He pressed the keypad harder.
Gregory
No. He took a gulp, felt the content lurching down in his stomach.
Heather
Jim
Nick
Name by name rolled down the screen. Some were familiar some were not. Some knew him well and some were only a passer by in his dreadful life. He knew some of them could make him happy, or at least would do anything to make him happy. However, his thumb seemed would not stop until her name showed.
Sara.
He pressed the dial button eagerly, taking another warm gulp of scotch. Yes. He gave himself a mental pat. He could be happy too.
He was pondering what to say to her at the first dial tone. Would the blunt "Hi, can you find me a way to get on board with you" be enough, or should he start with apologies first.
The second dial tone made him decide that "Please, I want to be happy too" would be a great opening.
The third dial tone called for another glass. He was pouring in the rest of the bottle's content when the familiar voice pampered his ear.
"Hi, you are reaching me Sara Sidle, can't pick up to the phone though. Please leave your message, and I'll call you back. ASAP, promise"
The voicemail swept all his courageousness away; he flipped the cellphone shut in a second. There was something in her voice. Something he barely recognized. The pulsating joy hinted by the small chuckle at the end of the message. Indisputable smile hidden by the way she said hi. Those were little things, little things that strained the difference. She was happy, and he was not. Came after her for the sake of his pursuit of happiness would only bring the sad Sara back. He didn't reach that level of selfishness yet. She deserved to be happy, and he deserved where he was. If he wanted to be happy, he should find his own way, away from her.
Gone was the warmth of the drink, replaced by the chill of loneliness. It took him good ten minutes before he opened the device again. He pressed the keypads fast. No scrolling, No fidgeting.
Heather.
He downed the last liquid remain, getting answered by the woman herself after the first dial tone.
He fiercely shut his eyes before saying "Heather, I… I need you"
FIN
A/N : Flames are expected