A/N: Freaking LOVED the Life finale soooo much that I had to write for it!!! Plus that quote/zen thing was epic. By far, the best finale I've seen as of late. (Hands Held High, lyrics by Linkin Park)
Just Breathe
With hands held high
Into a sky so blue
The ocean opens up
To swallow you
Amen.
"Bring her back," Tidwell had said just that morning. The frantic, panicked man that barely knew up from down most days. Crews was calm, an angry calm that held a deep, dark determination. He would get her back, and Tidwell knew that, even as Crews slyly slipped out of the office and out of police eyeshot.
The saddest part for Tidwell was that he'd already lost her. He wasn't dense, stupid, or blind. He'd lost her to the man that he'd sent to find her. He just didn't realize it. She just didn't realize it. But their boss realized it. Slowly. She was fading away, avoiding, drifting. The looks weren't cast his way anymore. Maybe they never had been.
He'd already lost her.
XOX
Dust. Dust everywhere, breeze kicking it up and around the two white vans as the men realized they'd been freed in a mere breath of time. Crews gave a nod towards the men as he shut the door behind him. Strange adrenaline pounded in his veins. Everything had had to be perfect for him to live. For Reese to live.
Reese.
He stopped in the middle of the dusty dirt path of his orchard. A different white vehicle approached now, one that gave him a divine sense of relief, as the one soul on his mind stared through the glass in wonderment. The other passenger's story echoed in his mind from earlier, an innocent question that had taken him by surprise with its answer.
20 years. Partners, that's how we met. Still love her.
Crews glanced up at the bright orange sun. It was good to be alive. Good to know that she was alive. He stared awhile longer, until the car stopped a few feet away.
No one moved though. No doors opened.
XOX
"Maybe you should tell him."
"Tell who what?" Dani asked, startled. Just breathe. Don't touch. Just breathe. Oh how she'd wanted to just touch him, make sure he was really there, if the last time, the last moment. But here he stood, not a car length away, no bullet holes. Fine. Smiling. And she could only stare in wonder.
The man smiled, shaking his head. "You know who, you know what."
She laughed lightly at the confusing conversation. "You're starting to sound like Charlie too."
"You already do," he replied immediately. "That man did not have a plan."
Her wonderment slipped, replaced by questioning fear.
"He went into that van blind. For you."
XOX
It felt like years since he'd seen her. Strange, the way time can slow down and speed up at all the wrong and right moments, he thought idly, as she finally emerged from the car. No smile, replaced with question instead of the former wonder. Five feet away—neither moving.
She shook her head. "You had no plan," she stated.
He shrugged. "I had a plan."
"What plan?" she asked, frustrated and bewildered and confused.
"Get you out of the van. Get me in the van."
"That's not a plan, that's not even Zen, that's just stupidity!"
"I don't know, sounded kind of Zen to me. It worked—therefore, it was essentially a plan. Just not one premeditated."
Reese gaped, irate and deliriously happy all at once. "But what were you thinking? What if your plan didn't work?"
He shrugged again. "I guess we'll never know, will we."
She stared at him in silence. She couldn't word her questions the way she wanted. "What if he'd killed you first?" she whispered, more for herself than him.
Just breathe.
"Why did you say that to me, when Roman told you not to touch me?" A very long day. Many emotions surfacing; delayed fear, delayed sadness, delayed anger and tears, delayed joy. All delayed.
"You weren't breathing," he replied. Typical. "You were afraid. You were anxious and desperate. One touch would have put a bullet in us both."
She nodded, chewing on her lip, blinking back the onslaught of tears that hid beyond her eyes. Slipping through. One by one, tears slipping through. "I just…I just…just wanted to touch you. Just wanted to know. Needed to know…" she whispered, knowing that the stuttered, nonsensical phrases did not convey a thing.
"I know." Crews said simply. And he did; he'd known for awhile. Because she was right—his non-plan plan had been stupid. One wrong move, one touch, one word, could have made everything go horribly awry. And he'd risked everything, all over again, for her. "Connections."
She brushed back a few tears at the one word that had been her vice for weeks. So many connections. Connections that matter, connections that don't matter. The different meanings of the word. In that moment, she'd wanted the connection back, to touch him, to connect, to feel safe…and maybe something else as Roman demanded their separation.
Just breathe.
"I missed you," he stated, and she knew it was a new kind of missed. She knew, because she'd missed him too.
"What about your new partner?" she laughed it off, trying to down play her feelings on the topic.
He shook his head slightly. "She's nice. She's not you. I missed you."
"I missed you, too," Reese said softly, still five feet away. "But you didn't answer my question yet."
"You didn't ask the right question."
She paused, rolling the conversation over in her mind before she knew the way she should have phrased the question. "Why did you do it? You knew he'd have killed you in a heartbeat. Why did you get in the van?"
"Because you're my answer."
She shook her head at the strange response, knowing without a doubt it had to be from one of his Zen tapes. When she looked up again, he was less than a foot away.
"You're my one."
Yes, definitely a Zen tape.
"Crews, for once I think you and I are on the same page."
"That's a good thing."
She nodded, "Yes, it's a good thing."
"Reese?"
"Yes?" she swallowed thickly. The hand she'd so desperately tried to hold for only a moment now grasped hers firmly, fingers interlacing slowly. She didn't want to let go now.
"One, plus one, equals one. One plus one equals…"
With a small smile on her tear streaked face, the hand not entwined with his placed two fingers on his lips, effectively silencing what she already knew. A moment later, he gently moved her fingers and she replaced them with her own lips.
He pulled her tightly to him, missing the same connection she'd missed. They were not good apart. They stood for a long while that way, in his orchard, in the tight embrace, under the now setting sun. Her head rested on his shoulder, content, smelling the cologne he wore. Their entwined hands still clasped, resting on his chest. To anyone else, they looked as if they were dancing.
"One plus one equals…" Charlie began again, quietly. He felt her smile against his neck.
"Love," she finished.