Saving the day is stressful, especially when you're used to the self-contained rabbit hole called Ops.
Even though they're in California, the retreat cabins aren't very warm. Wind whistles in through all kinds of unseen cracks, and something in the corner keeps creaking. All in all, it's not a very relaxing setting in the pitch-black of the night. That must be what the company's for.
Nell's snuggled into her pillow, face pressed to the foam, her hazel eyes resting on the lanky man lying in top of the covers next to her. His eyes are unfocused, staring at a speck off in the distance.
"Eric?" she whispers, unsure of where exactly her partner is in that moment. "Are you alright"
Whisked out of his thoughts, he looks toward her face, a sad half-smile gracing his. He speaks, and his troubles come out in one breath.
No. You know I hate carrying a gun, and today I used it and I shot and I blew up a car, and killed a man. That's not what I signed up for when I took this job! Hetty promised no guns, yet here I am, with blood on my hands and-"
A slender finger silences him. Nell lifts her head, and levels her eyes with his.
"Your actions don't change who you are: a good man. A good man who wouldn't have made that decision had there been any other option. There's no blood on your hands, Eric, because without that shot, we both could have died, and a lot of other people's lives would've been ruined forever."
His face softens at her words, and he tries to respond, but she keeps going.
"We're not like the rest, but that's ok. Would one of the others be more comfortable now? Probably. But, that's beyond the point. You're an extraordinary person, Eric, thrust into unnerving and unexpected positions. It's not ideal, and I know. I was where you are. And while it might not feel like it right now, you will become a bigger person, and that's what makes you so special."
"Come to bed. The last thing this world needs is a sleep-deprived Eric Beale."
He obliges, curling his legs and slipping under the duvet. He nestles into her side, basking in the feeling, fingers rhythmically tapping her shoulder, following a pattern.
Nell likes patterns, and this one happens to be one she knows.
"I love you too, Eric." is her sleepy answer.