Oblivion
He had found her on the roof of the Bureau building like she knew he would. She had climbed between the horizontal steel bars of the rooftop barrier to sit on the razor's edge of a slip into oblivion, hoping that the height would jar her into awareness, but the cool wind that she found twenty stories in the air was nothing compared to the icy grip that the day still had on her. Her numbness surrounded her, muting her senses and leaving her with only her thoughts for company. Cases at home were always hard, but this one –.
This one.
It left a film, a coating of filth that she couldn't scrub off, a sour taste in her mouth, a deafening ring in her ears.
The weariness in her bones was sucking her dry, and she had come looking for something, anything, that would relieve her of the memory of his greasy hands on her skin.
She had come looking, and she had found the roof, and as he stood watching her, both of them painfully aware that she was a shiver away from introducing her head to the pavement below, he could stand it no longer. He crossed the roof to stand at her side in four silent strides, and the fact that she didn't startle when he appeared suddenly beside her confirmed his suspicion that she knew that he was there. The faint unease that he had felt as he'd watched her almost sprint away after they'd gotten their confession bloomed into full-blown anxiety at the blank look on her face, and he watched his arm, seemingly by itself, reach over the fence to grip her bicep, anchoring her to him.
She turned her head to look at the hand tethering her to earth, taking in the lines that creased his skin and following them up his arm, his shoulder, his neck, until finally she met his stare with her own, the absolute nothingness in her eyes making his breath catch in his throat. Goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold rose on his flesh, and every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation of what she'd do next.
Slowly, she returned her gaze to the black night that was stretching out before her. The silence broke him, then, and he forced a whisper into the heavy air around them.
"Emily."
Her name hit her like a hammer, and her already broken pieces shattered further and fell to the ground around her as tears. She weakly tried to pull out of his grasp, but he only held on tighter, and he wondered if this was it, if he'd come in tomorrow to resignation papers on his desk. He pushed that thought away, though. That was tomorrow's problem; today had enough of its own.
She kept moving away from him, her whole upper half now suspended over the side of the building, his firm grip the only reason she hadn't already plummeted to the ground. Icy fear gripped him, and he suddenly had a vision of her flying toward the ground, her dark hair billowing out behind her like a parachute torn to ribbons. The sight of her falling into the dark filled him with such terror that before either of them could recognize what he was doing, he'd reached his other hand over the metal barrier to pull her, rather unceremoniously over the fence and into his embrace.
She shuddered against him, her tears still falling like rain and wetting his collar where her face rested. She sent her words out like a prayer,
"I just needed -."
"I know."
His words were a prayer answered, and she was glad that he knew, because she sure as hell did not. They stood like that a while longer, wrapped in each other's arms and the dark night, watching the lights of the city twinkle in the distance. When she began to shiver, he gently kissed the top of her head and guided them back to the rooftop access door. They made their way silently back to the unit, both of them glad to find it largely deserted, its occupants no doubt having left as soon as possible, eager to escape the events of the day. He withdrew his arm from its place wrapped around her waist when they stopped at her desk, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze as he told her to gather her things and that he'd be right back. He all but ran up the stairs to his office, packing his briefcase in record time before joining her back where he'd left her not five minutes before. He helped her into her coat and, taking her hand in his again, led her out of the building and into his car. She was silent throughout the entire drive to his home, and if not for her open eyes, he would've thought she'd fallen asleep. All too soon he was pulling to a stop in front of his apartment building, tugging her by the hand with him through the threshold until they were standing in his living room, once more surrounded by darkness.
She whimpered, the sound almost lost in the chasm of silence that surrounded them, almost, but not quite, and he moved them until they were pressed together shoulder to hip so tightly that not even air moved between them. It was as if that was the cue that she had been waiting for, because the second his arms wrapped around her, she broke into the night once more.
He turned his head into hers, pressing his lips against her ear and whispering anything and everything, hoping to break into her sorrow and steal her out of it. Unwilling to abandon her to the darkness surrounding them, he stayed locked around her until the first fingers of pink light flittered around them, whispering to her until his voice went hoarse and his whispers were no longer a choice but a necessity, standing as a pillar until exhaustion threatened to topple them both to the ground. At last, when the light of day had broken all around them, she took a final gasping breath and fell silent, relaxing against him for the first time all night, and finally, finally the tight coil of anxiety that had been his constant companion since he had first found her on the roof eased away. He pressed his lips against her hair and closed his eyes, thanking whatever god there was that they would have another day. When he could stand no longer, he collapsed back onto the couch behind them, pulling her down with him. They stretched out on the overstuffed leather, fitted together like the only two pieces of a startlingly simple puzzle, and fell hand in hand into oblivion.