A/N: So. I am not okay with Catherine leaving the show, or with the way it was decided to write her out. She was just left in Afganistan. I mean, no. I wanted to see more, and the conversation she had with Steve in the end was not enough, even if it was beautiful. But no, I wrote this story almost instantly after having watched the episode, so here it is.
Title from Ellie Goulding's I Know You Care, and further down, a quote by Fulton Oursler.
Disclaimer: Peter Lenkov, you obviously own the characters because I would never get rid of Catherine.
She will be back.
This is what Steve has to believe, what he has to tell himself every day, all days, until she comes back because a world where Catherine never walks in through his front door again is a world he doesn't want to contemplate. Even if he knows how unlikely that is, he has to believe.
He never imagined it ending like this. Or, rather, he never imagined this ending, period. There was something about her, some inexplicable, unattainable thing that kept him steady, kept his world spinning and didn't make him feel like running away.
Because Steve was always the runner, always the one to take off the moment he could, feet never quite on the ground and Catherine was the gravity that pulled him into place. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that she would've kept him steady for all eternity.
He didn't blame her for bringing him to Taliban, he doesn't, still. Even though he is bruised and bloodied and in hot water with possibly the entire US Army, he still doesn't regret it because if he hadn't been there, she might've been the one to be taken. And he knows what the Taliban does to the women soldiers they capture and that is not a reality he would like to live either.
All of his realities are suddenly ones he's never imagined, has never wanted, because they all end the same way – she leaves.
Sometimes he sees her in his dreams – more than sometimes, really – and it's always bad. He wakes up in a cold sweat, his still healing ribs throbbing, and the images burned into his retina make him reach for the phone and dial her number. Sometimes he goes through with the call, just to hear her voice say You've reached Catherine Rollins. I'm unavailable right now but please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Her voice, though detached and professional, is all that he needs, even if she never calls back. A month later, the phone becomes disconnected and that last connection he had, disappears, without him never quite reaching her, despite what the message promises every time.
But there are cases and criminals and he can bury himself in his work, can focus on catching the bad guys, on making his island safe, so that's exactly what he does. He definitely doesn't sneak glances at where she used to keep her things in the headquarters and definitely doesn't jump a little whenever he hears the sound of his door opening.
Through all of it, he must believe that she will come back.
"What was that?"
"What was what, Danny?"
His partner rolls his eyes in that annoying patented way of his and doesn't relent. "Why did you jump down Kamelani's throat like that?"
He shrugs like he doesn't know the answer. Jason Kamelani is a man who was caught in the middle of a bank robbery and who let his wife be taken as hostage. His wife who turned up dead a few hours later.
"Don't give me that look. He was in a tough spot and there was nothing else he could've done for his wife."
He still doesn't respond, though he wants to argue, wants to say the exact opposite. Jason is responsible because someone has to be responsible for the death of Jenny Kamelani. He is responsible because he had sworn to protect her and he didn't give himself up to save her.
"Maybe all people don't need to play the hero and step into a dangerous situation. He would've been shot if he had tried to intervene, you heard the man. And look at him, he's clearly heartbroken."
"That is not enough!"
He raises his voice only a little but it's enough to make Danny take a step back. Still, he refuses to let this go.
"This is not about Jason Kamelani, is it?"
"Don't go there, Danny."
And he walks away because he can, because he must and for once in his life, Danny doesn't follow him out, doesn't pester him because they are best friends and sometimes Steve just needs to be alone.
But it's a few hours later and he's home, thinking about everything and nothing when there is a knock on his door and he just knows it's Danny. He contemplates not letting his partner in but Danny's beat him there.
"You do know that I have the key, right? This is just a courtesy knock."
Sighing, he stands up and opens the door to find Danny standing there expectantly with a six-pack in hand.
"Oh, hi, Danny. Hi, Steve. Mind if I come in? Sure, and bring those beers with you." He steps in and gives Steve a reproaching look. "See, I spared you a whole conversation. You're welcome."
Danny sits down and pops open a beer without waiting for any more pleasantries and he takes a seat next to him, sipping his own beer. For a moment there it seems like it might go well.
"So. Let's talk about Catherine." Yeah, so much for that.
He knows that he physically recoils at the mention of her name from Danny's mouth and can't quite stop his reaction. "Let's not."
"No, you need to talk about it. Look, I'm not this guy who wants to share his feelings or whatnot but if you don't, then you might explode one day and do something more than yell at a man who's just learned that his wife is dead. Think of all the paperwork I would have to fill out if you did something stupid."
And the thing is, Danny is right, of course he is. But Steve doesn't quite know what to say.
"You know, I get that you're sad and you miss her and that is fine. But, Steve, you rushing into a hostage situation, guns blazing, no regard for your own personal safety? Walking into a meth house without any concern for the potentially hazardous chemicals, not to mention the fact that meth dealers always have a nice collection of weapons? That is not okay. You have a death wish and I would really not want to see my partner get shot because he's being stupid. So just...tell me something."
"I don't think she'll come back."
It's the first time he's allowed himself the room to admit to the thoughts he doesn't want to contemplate, the truth he's reluctant to say out loud.
"She will. Once she catches up with the Taliban and the kid, she will-"
"She will what? Single-handedly take down a cell of terrorists in the middle of who knows where and rescues a kid? She'll be d-"
He doesn't have it in him to finish that particularly dark and twisted thought because this is what keeps him up at night, what threatens his belief that Catherine will make it out unharmed.
"Look, I don't know what will happen. But neither do you. And neither does she. But she will not just give up."
Steve takes a long swig of his beer, lost in their last conversation. The words which had seemed like they helped, are now hurting, a dull ache in his chest which doesn't want to stop.
"You know, I told her I loved her."
"That's...good?" He can tell that Danny isn't sure what to make of his tone which is regretful rather than remembering something beautiful.
"I told her I loved her for the first time over the phone with thousands of miles between us. Who does that?"
The surprise on Danny's face is evident. "Wait, you've had this thing for five years and you'd never told her you loved her? Wow. And I thought I sucked at expressing my emotions."
He glares at Danny for that. "Yeah, I don't need to be told that."
"So what do you need to be told?"
And he doesn't respond because for all the things he wants to hear – she will be back, she is alive, she is standing right outside your door – are a million more likely things he will never want to know, one invading his dreams every night. She is never coming back.
When the first postcard comes, he doesn't quite understand it. It's a picture of Mumbai at night and the writing on the back says Remember when we tried to find the stars? Aloha. He doesn't understand because it shouldn't be possible but he knows that this is her, that this is Catherine, that something has happened, is happening, and it gives him hope.
It's been four months and he smiles for the first time when he goes to work.
Danny, of course, notices.
"Woah. What is that on your face?"
"What?"
"Is that..." Danny comes closer, stares at his face and smirks. "Yep, just what I thought. You are smiling. Did Guns&Ammo release their fall special issue or something?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"Wait, no, no, it isn't. This isn't your Rambo smile."
"My what?"
"Rambo smile. You know, when you get to play with guns, you get this weird smile like kids do when they open their presents and it's exactly what they asked for."
"I do not have a Rambo smile."
"Oh, yes, you definitely do. But this is different. This is almost like the smile you get when you've been with-" And he grows quiet because he doesn't understand, because this isn't possible.
"Yeah, it is."
Some unspoken agreement passes between them in this moment, an agreement that Danny doesn't ask any more questions because Steve couldn't possibly answer them but he smiles anyway.
"Well, ain't that something."
He gets more postcards in the months to come, at irregular intervals. Sometimes they're of places they've been to and she writes something they've shared in those places – Of all the gin joints... on the back of Casablanca – but other times they're random places, so it only says Aloha. He doesn't know if it means that she's actually in all of those places but he would venture a guess that the pictures are more random than that and she's probably somewhere completely different. It gives him hope.
One day, it's a year later and Steve can't quite believe he's been living in a world without her for a whole year, 365 days, when he started with wondering if he could make it past two weeks. But he also knows that while he can accept this reality where she's not with him, he will not be able to completely forget it.
He gets a card that day and the writing there makes him desolate because it's something he's never wanted to think about. Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future. He's sure she's taken it from somewhere but hasn't marked the author, so the words become hers and he realizes that she's letting him go, that she's asking him to do the same. So he gives in when Danny sets him up on a date with Amber's friend Lyla because she's nice and Catherine's words echo in his head.
And it's fine. She's beautiful and talkative, funny and charming and he knows he's flirting back, knows he's attracted to her on some level but some part of him can't help but compare her to Catherine. Can't help but notice her hair is a lighter brown, her eyes almost the same color of dark brown, but her smiles too happy, too innocent.
To quash it, he drinks a bit too much, and when he wakes up in a strange bed the next morning, he can only feel regret because this is not right.
But Lyla smiles and cracks a joke and he thinks he might actually want to try.
It only takes a month for him to realize that this could never work. He might try to give his heart to someone else, and he knows that he would be loved and he would be able to love back but never fully, never enough to keep himself grounded, and that isn't something he can do. He isn't being fair to Lyla when she is falling for him and he can't help but feel that he's cheating on Catherine and that thought tightens a vice around his heart.
"I don't think we should see each other anymore, Lyla." He's prepared for the questions, for the arguments so her response completely catches him off guard.
"It's Catherine, isn't it?"
He can only stare at Lyla who's smiling sadly and bitterly. "You...say her name in your sleep sometimes. I tried asking Danny about it and though he didn't explicitly say anything, I'm a smart girl. She is someone you really love and I just can't compete, right?"
He feels even more of a jerk than before, when he was alone with his thoughts. "I'm really sorry, Lyla, I never should've started anything."
To his surprise, she shakes her head. "No, don't apologize. I didn't want to see it. The first time we...you said her name. I should've walked away then but I thought I could overcome it. So it's really my fault."
He really is a terrible person.
"I hope you find her again, if you can."
Danny, to his credit, doesn't ask anything when it becomes obvious that Lyla's no longer in his life, only takes him out for beers.
One day he realizes that it's been almost two years since he last saw Catherine and a whole year since he last got a card. He hasn't let himself think about the latter because it could mean bad things.
On the two year mark, he's home alone when there's a knock on the door and he knows it's Danny who's come to bug him once more about seeing some ridiculous movie with him and Gracie.
"Your efforts are futile, my friend, because I-" And the words die in his mouth as his realities come crashing together and for a moment he's afraid he's actually lost it because what he's seeing is not possible.
"Hi, Steve."
But there she is, standing on his front porch, like no time has passed, like it hasn't been two years when he last heard her voice, her real voice. Catherine is standing there, and he quickly notices that she's lost some weight, she's tan, her hair is shorter and there's a scar on her clavicle that definitely wasn't there before but he must be silent for too long because she shifts uncomfortably.
"Look, I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this-" And he snaps out of his reverie because she's everything like his dreams and nothing like them, so she must be real, and he pulls her into a desperate hug and feels her for the first time in eons.
He feels the shaky exhale she lets out as her arms come up to return the hug and her whole body trembles a little; or it might be his, he's not absolutely sure. When he pulls back a little, her eyes are wet and she's smiling.
"Hi."
He kisses the smile off her face because this is what he's wanted all this time and she returns the kiss without hesitation, and without really pausing for air, or thoughts, or anything, he leads them through the house, leaving a trail of clothes behind because they couldn't possibly wait.
He maps out her body as if for the first time because it's familiar and different and he can feel her questions when she finds the bullet scar he didn't have before, the slash left behind by a knife wound but doesn't say anything because the questions will have to wait.
It's later, much later, when he keeps running his hands down her length because her warmth is still the same as before and he thinks of all the time he's spent alone and all of the things he wants to ask. He wants to know where she's been, if she ever found Najib, and how she managed to send those postcards but he realizes that there's only one question to which he needs an answer right in this moment.
"Catherine?"
Even saying her name feels like salvation, like having come through a desert and having found a water.
"Hmm?"
"How long will you stay?"
She raises her head from his chest and looks straight at him; there's a fire burning in her eyes but also some hesitation. Still, she doesn't hold back with her answer.
"As long as you'll have me."
And he smiles, he smiles like he hasn't in so long as the feelings threaten to burst out of him and he rolls them over to look down at her face, to memorize this moment.
"Forever, then."
"Yeah."
She is back.
A/N: I did have a possible back story for where Catherine's been and what she's been doing but it didn't quite fit in with the tone of the story, so let's just pretend she did some things but she's back because I'm a sucker for happy endings - especially since we won't see it on-screen.
Do let me know what you thought!