A/N: Just a warning, chapters will be short and updates slow. It's looking like 8 chapters will be the final tally.
Moonlight washed over the balcony of the Lightman Group, casting Gillian's face half in shadow. The rest of her remained bright, though tears dried on her cheeks in salted streaks that shined in the glare. Cal watched her from the doorway, pulling his sleeves down over his wrists as he moved away from the wall and the door slammed shut behind him. The sound echoed in the open space. Gillian turned to look at him with eyebrows raised. She made no move to wipe away her tears, her upset. Instead she smiled. It was smaller than the faraway stars but it was for him, burning a hole in his throat that remained even when he swallowed strongly.
Gillian had come here after telling him about Finch, removing herself from his embrace and his office. She did it like she didn't deserve it. And Cal was left to think of the man's- the coward's- forceful intrusion into her life, his threat and her lie. It was seven years she'd done it. Seven years she lied by keeping that hurtful truth locked up secret and tight behind the cage of her ribs, her teeth. Yet, he hadn't seen a fucking thing. She was a far better a liar than he had ever let himself imagine; he couldn't imagine her lying at all until the betrayal stung in his gut. It couldn't have been purposeful, Gillian making herself seem so poor at it so she could gain from the underestimation of her skills, it just couldn't. That was not Gillian. And he knew her. He did know her. He was sure.
Cal pushed the doubt from his mind, taking the few steps towards the railing she stood by. He kept enough distance between them to ensure her comfort and rested his elbows on the cool metal. Breaths passed between them in the blowing breeze and his eyes fell closed as he counted them. There was more she had to say. When she had stepped away from him in his office, he had watched her mouth twitch, watched her swallow down the words with a wash of silent tears and step further away from his forgiveness. She had wanted to make a confession, something painful and raw with truth. Cal had almost let himself hope but he knew it was too good to be true. Gillian might have had reasons for her actions but that was not one of them. He just wanted it to be. He just wanted.
It was only moments before Gillian broke the silence. Her body turned to face his, a jutted hip leaning her into the rail. Her chest rose and fell evenly but her fingers twitched closer as she stared. Cal's skin burned under the scrutiny. He didn't turn around. That would be worse.
"You must think the worst of me, huh, lying to you like that and so long?" she asked, clear in the flat end of her sentence that she expected no answer.
Instead, Cal watched from the corner of his eye as she crossed her arms, warming bared skin. Cal wanted to offer her a coat or lead her inside or something but didn't think she would appreciate it mid-thought.
"I know that trust is important to you and I understand that it'll take time to rebuild that. If you'll forgive me. I…" Gillian said.
Cal finally looked at her properly, dropping the mask, the tension. Tears rose to her eyes and gathered there but she blinked up towards the sky and when she lowered her chin again, they'd dried. She sighed softly, her mouth twitching at the corners. He was showing her something, something that rounded his features soft and harmless. But she was not harmless.
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. Grief swelled up around them, Gillian mourning something not yet even lost. Too good to lose, the two of them. Cal would never let it go.
"I'm sorry that I disappointed you, fell off that pedestal you'd never let me down from before," Gillian said.
Cal blinked slowly. "I forgive you, Gill. I forgive you."
He placed his hand on hers. Forgiving Gillian was simple. She never had ill-intent. Her fingers curled into a hard fist beneath his. Clearly, she had yet to forgive herself. He let go of her hand only to step nearer and wrap his arm low on her back. He rubbed absently as his mind moved over words. Something praiseful, he wanted. Something grateful.
Gillian cocked her head at his expression. The light seemed to dim as she moved just slightly away from his touch, close enough that he could still feel her body's warmth in the gap between them.
"Why is it that I can tell you I've been betraying you for longer than I've known you and you're… God, you're putting me even higher up? I don't get it. I honestly don't." Gillian leaned into his hovering palm despite herself, her arms falling heavily to her sides.
Cal revelled in the perfect pressure of her spine against him and shook off her worries.
"I think you need to refresh yourself on the term, love. You haven't betrayed me. You saved me from something, however misguided. I should be thanking you."
Gillian's eyes darkened, her eyebrows pulling in closer together and lower. She gripped the guardrail, a slight tremor running through her.
"I did a terrible thing, Cal. Can we just admit that so we can move beyond it? Please," she said.
"That'd be a lie," Cal said. "I'd have done far more despicable things to protect Emily. You didn't even know her. But you protected her. You're good, you are. Even if we both did a terrible thing."
Gillian's eyes clouded over. "Or maybe we're just both horrible. Maybe we're both shitty people who deserve nothing better than each other."
Cal's heartbeat sped up at her phrasing and knocked against his ribs. "You know, I'm not the only one who puts someone on a pedestal. You do it too. You do it with me."
Despite the fact she'd just called them both shitty, Gillian blushed. Her lashed fluttered as she looked down, the concrete suddenly intriguing.
"You're a good man," she whispered.
"I'm not. If you're not a bloody angel, then I've not got a good bone in my body. I'd have done worse," he said.
"So would I," Gillian replied. She found his eyes again, how soft they'd gone at the implication. Then, the tears bubbled out. She reached for his hand and he squeezed it without pause.
"What can I do?" She asked. "How do I make you believe me now, know that I'm not still lying? You said I was a blind spot..."
Another chilled wind blew against Cal's face. He pulled Gillian closer, hugging her again until she pushed him away.
"Come inside," he said. "You'll catch cold."
Gillian went with it, hesitating only a second before walking back into the building. Cal thought she would lead him to his office, but he was wrong. Gillian led him through the break room into her own office. He sat down on her couch as she dug out two tumblers and a bottle of scotch. Then she joined him, nudging the bottle in his direction as she folded her feet beneath her. Taking the hint, Cal poured a generous nip into both glasses. Enough that it would bring them peace, even if it also brought a pitiful morning.
"Cal, really, what you did today, with the bomb, even not knowing. You were good, selfless. You protected me even though you knew I was hiding from you."
Cal shook his head, taking a large sip of his drink.
"Gillian, listen to me. What you did, you did out of goodness. And I'd have done worse. I have done worse. I'm not going to hold it against you. I'm gonna keep trusting you to be there for me because that's what you were," Cal insisted.
Gillian leaned back into his chest and Cal wrapped her up in all his warmth. She relaxed against him, limbs falling looser as she waited.
"What have you done that was worse?" she asked.
His battered breath rattled the back of her ribcage as he prepared to speak.
"Everything that went down in Bosnia," he said. "And…"
"That wasn't you. That was so much more than you. You had little choice in it."
It was an attempted comfort but it felt empty. There was something that Cal had had a choice in. He just made the wrong one. And people got hurt, innocent people hurt irreparably. And it was way worse than anything he'd done under the influence of the MI-6. It was way worse than anything.
Cal sighed. "Love, I've made choices. Wrong ones."
He swallowed hard. There were things he hadn't told Gillian, things he only told himself. And though he trusted no one else more, he still felt shame in it. He still wished he'd done differently. He'd been over it time and time again in his head, walking through every possible scenario. He'd made a wrong choice. He kept making that wrong choice. And no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he still felt it was his fault.
Telling Gillian was something he talked himself into and out of over and over. And he would just remember how innocent she could look, eyes wide and tearful after being attacked. Not one, not two, but more, never safe. Never safe with him. And so he closed his mouth. Hadn't meant to let it come out ever, especially not now. But maybe, maybe it would be good to return the honesty, dark secrets like trading cards.
"Gillian," he said.
At the change in his tone, she stiffened. She turned to him with concern in the pull of her eyebrows, the pools of her irises.
"It's okay," she said, nodding to him. "To tell me."
He sunk lower into the cushion, turning his face from her. It was a tough story. It was a lot. And though he wanted her to know, it was still hard to tell her. The only thing that pushed him towards speaking was the thought that maybe it would get Gillian to understand why he so freely gave her forgiveness, why he couldn't so easily forgive himself.
"You remember that video of my mum? What she said?"
Gillian's mouth pursed as she thought it over. Cal twisted his hands together as he waited.
"She said that she wanted a weekend home to celebrate your dad's birthday."
"Yeah," Cal said. "A weekend to go home to her children, Gill."
Gillian blinked in quick confusion, gone as fast as it appeared.
"You have a sibling," she concluded. "But-"
"I failed her and I failed my mum." He took a few breaths to keep his head from spinning. "I do know the reason my mum killed herself. It was to do with me."