I Wanna Make You Close Your Eyes - Dierks Bentley {Life, Charlie/Dani}
~So i can rest my head right here on your shoulder
I just wanna lay here and feel you breathe
Listen to the rhythm of your heartbeat
And see where it leads...
The first night she was free from Roman's captivity, Dani Reese slept.
Of course that could have something to do with the fact that the doctors had insisted she remain at the hospital overnight for observation and had given her a sedative (non-habit forming, in deference to her being in recovery). She had also been utterly exhausted and, when everyone finally stopped asking questions and left, she'd been nearly overcome with relief.
Everyone except Crews, that is, but he was being oddly quiet, sitting a vigil in one of the molded plastic torture devices hospitals tried to pass off as visitor chairs. At some point during the night, someone, probably a young nurse charmed by his big blue eyes, had taken pity on him and brought in one of those chairs that reclined and set it beside the bed for him.
She woke once to see him stretched out, face turned towards her, eyes closed. His hand lay beside hers on the bed, not grasping, barely touching, his pinkie to hers. She'd once demanded he not touch her, but now it seemed…soothing.
Reassuring.
She'd drifted back into an easy sleep and been released the next morning feeling refreshed.
Three days later there were bags under her eyes and her hands were shaking from the amount of caffeine she'd ingested. Thankfully, she didn't have to report back to work until Monday and she hoped to have herself pulled together by then, because her coworkers would all probably take one look at her and assume she'd fallen off the wagon.
Well, everyone except Crews would assume that.
When he showed up to visit (with a bag containing more fruits and vegetables than she normally ate in a month), he looked at her with no judgment in his eyes. He'd been by everyday and she knew that he knew she wasn't sleeping, despite the fact that she always insisted that she was fine.
He hadn't even set down the brown bag when he came to a decision. "Want to pack a bag?" he asked and she didn't need him to clarify. She thought it was very Charlie of him not to tell her to pack a bag and come with him. He wouldn't do that, especially not after Roman had held her against her will.
Crews wouldn't see this as a weakness, just something very human. The pale skin under his eyes showed purple smudges that attested to sleepless nights of his own.
Not needing words, she nodded and wandered off to her room to pack a duffle bag.
The ride to Charlie's place had been blissfully familiar, him chatting lightly about Ted's trip to find Olivia, Bobby and Seever, letting the words wash over her without needing her to respond to know she was listening. Just like a normal day at work. That thought made her smile.
They reached the mansion and she gave him a scowl when she saw he'd left his door unlocked. Again. After being shot in his foyer, you'd think he'd be a bit more cautious than that.
Reading her expression, he asked, "Do you really think a lock would have stopped the sort of people who really don't like me? Really don't like me enough to send hired thugs to kill me, I mean."
That was true enough, but she didn't have to like it. "Lock the door, Crews," she said quietly, voice echoing through the large, mostly empty rooms.
He locked the door.
After a light dinner (there had been some chicken amongst Crews' bag of greens), Reese felt what little energy she had begin to fail her and Charlie showed her an enormous bathroom where she could change. Somehow, when packing her bag, she'd forgotten pajama, so she ended up in one of Crews' t-shirts. He offered her sweatpants as well, but considering their height difference, she'd smiled and shaken her head.
Though still early, they found themselves retiring to Charlie's bed, on opposite sides, hands straying to the middle to touch as they had in the hospital. In the dark, quiet room, Reese stared at the ceiling, listened to her partner breathe and tried to will herself to sleep.
A half hour later, she was still trying and Charlie shifted, rolling towards the center of the bed. She felt the mattress dip and knew, if she made just the tiniest move herself, she'd slide towards him. She wasn't one to seek comfort, at least, not that sort of comfort. Random sex, booze, drugs, those were her coping skills.
Being held by someone who cared for you, who you trusted…probably a lot healthier.
Her body was in motion before she made a conscious decision and she ended up pressed against her partner's side, her head resting on his shoulder, palm on his flat stomach. The arm under her cradled her gently, holding but not trapping and his free hand came up, callused pads of his fingers brushing her cheek, the bridge of her nose, the thin skin of her eyelids.
"Close your eyes, Dani," he murmured, "I promise, you'll be here when you wake up."
That was it. The thing she was afraid of. Going to sleep and waking up back in captivity. If anyone could understand that, it would be Crews.
With him there, anchoring her in the moment, in the reality of the now, Dani was finally able to close her eyes. Here, together, they were strong. They were safe.
Both of them found peaceful sleep that night.