Safe and Together
He sobbed practically uncontrollably, kissing her cold lips, crying against her neck which gave no pulse. His hand was covered in her blood, and he couldn't bear to touch her with it.
Harry cried and cried, harder than he could ever recall. When he'd lost his mother, his brother, every other person in his life, he hadn't felt like this. There was no one in his entire existence who mattered as much as Ruth, no one he'd ever loved as much as her. Even when she was lost to him once, he took comfort in knowing she was out there somewhere, that she was safe and happy, somehow. But now, every little bit of his world was dark and cold and lacked all semblance of meaning.
How was he expected to go on without her? What was the point? What could he do? Why couldn't he have taken her hand when she'd asked him to leave the Service with her and just run away? They'd had time before Sasha found them. Why had he paused? Why hadn't he taken her and run toward the happiness they might have shared?
Too late for that now. Too late for everything.
With a sharp gasp, Harry Pearce sat straight up. His whole body was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. He blinked his eyes open, feeling the sharp pain of terror and unspeakable grief course through every nerve of his body. "Ruth," he cried out, his voice strangled by his own immeasurable pain.
A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, causing him to jolt. "Shh, it's alright, Harry," came a soft voice.
He turned abruptly. "Ruth?" he breathed in disbelief.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him back down onto the bed with her. "I'm here, Harry. I'm right here," she murmured, stroking his cheek, running her fingers through his hair, rubbing his chest to soothe him.
"This is a dream," he whispered.
"I promise it isn't," she replied. "We're here at home in Suffolk. We're safe. We're together. It's all over."
Her words helped release the tension in his body. He settled into her embrace, exhaling in relief. "It was so real."
"It always is," Ruth said with understanding. She, too, still suffered horrific nightmares in these six months since they'd both left the Security Services and moved to their little house with the green door. "What was it this time?"
Harry could hardly speak the words aloud, but he knew he needed to. "The Russians."
She nodded, pressing comforting kisses to his cheek and forehead. In their months of freedom, he had spilled his soul, his darkest regrets about his time in Berlin with the Gavriks, being tricked into believing he'd fathered a son with the woman who had manipulated him. The Russians were frequent visitors to Harry's horrors.
He continued, barely able to give voice to his greatest fears. "You died in my arms."
"Shhh, no, I'm right here," she reminded him, holding him tight against her, willing her love and her presence to permeate the thick fog of his terrified mind.
"We're safe, and we're together," he stated, still in disbelief, breathing her scent in deeply.
"Yes, my love. We're safe and together. Always," she reassured, repeating the phrase over and over until Harry drifted back to sleep in her arms. Where he belonged.