A/N
More than seven weeks of total writer's block. I feel like I've lost a part of myself. Tonight, after coming home about this level of beat and wishing I had someone to come home to, I managed to force out this ficlet.
Hopefully, this means the block is over. Aaaauuuurrghhh!
Alex more or less fell in through the front door, so exhausted she could barely stand upright. James captured her in a hug before she collapsed to the floor.
"It's alright Alex, I've got you," he murmured.
"I can't do this job any longer," she said, voice catching in her throat, and buried her face in his sweater.
"That bad?"
"Worse," she mumbled, still with her face pressed against his chest. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, knowing that was a sure way to make her relax. This time was no exception.
"Wanna talk about it?"
There was a pause.
"No," she eventually said. "No, I don't want to drag that case into my home. It stays outside."
He wasn't surprised. That was usually how she wanted it when a case had been particularly bad. He wouldn't pressure her, although he sometimes thought it was unhealthy for her to keep everything that troubled her to herself. But he knew that was how Alex worked, and he could either accept it or watch her walk away.
"Alright. How about some wine, then?"
"Oh God, yes!" she said, and he chuckled.
"Go sit down in the sofa and I'll get it for you."
Alex mumbled something grateful and staggered away to the living room. James could tell there was more than just exhaustion that bothered her. She walked like she was in pain. He shook his head a little and went to get that wine.
"So," he said, handing her a glass with dark red liquid, "are you going to tell me why you're in pain?"
Alex flinched and tried to cover it up with fake cough.
"I'm not in pain," she said.
"Right."
"I'm really not."
"No?"
He sat down next to her and watched her intently. Alex squirmed under the scrutiny.
"It's just cramps."
"It's not 'just' cramps with you," he said, frowning as she sipped her wine. "Have you taken anything? Because you shouldn't have wine if you took painkillers."
"Just Tylenol, and that was hours ago." She leaned forward to put the glass down on the table, winced in pain and put one hand to her back before she could stop herself.
"Okay, while you do have that ashen complexion you usually get when you have cramps, I think there's something else that you're not telling me."
"It's nothing."
He waited.
"We walked into an ambush," she said after a few moments of reluctant silence. "I got shot in the back."
He stared at her in shocked disbelief.
"In the back of my vest," she clarified. "I'm probably black and blue and every shade in between, but the bullet is in the Kevlar and not in me. You know I'm practically bulletproof."
She managed a weary smile, but James only sighed and beckoned her to come closer.
"Let me have a look."
Alex rolled her eyes to really show how ridiculous she thought he was, but she did pull the turtleneck shirt over her head and showed her back to him. James sucked in air between clenched teeth.
"What did they use for ammunition, cannonballs?"
"Certainly felt like it," she said, and now she wasn't trying to downplay the pain anymore, she was too tired to make the effort, and she could feel herself simply give in. "James, I'm either going to start sobbing or falling asleep very soon. Possibly both. Just a heads up. Sorry."
He had known that from the moment she got out of the car in the driveway, shoulders slumped and with her hair hanging in her face, it was only a matter of time. She was pushed beyond what she could take, and he privately suspected that was way beyond what he could take. She was much tougher than he was.
"It's alright, Alex," he said soothingly, "it's fine. Come on, let's get you to bed. Doctor's orders."
"Can't argue with that, can I?"
"You usually do."
"Not tonight. I'm too tired." She gave him an open, naked glance. "Please hold me until I fall asleep?"
"Won't that hurt?"
"Probably. I don't care."
This must have been an exceptionally bad case, but he just nodded.
"You got it, honey."