I guess this is post finale. This is going to be painful in the beginning, but it will get better...emotionally. I promise. Just bear with me. Remember. I love you all even when you don't love me haha! I listened to 'Over You' by Ingrid Michaelson ft. A Great Big World while writing this on repeat if you want a "mood setter" lol. Enjoy!
That night was one of the harshest Angie had ever experienced. Angie laid there, curled in a tight ball on her bed, unable to move her body. She couldn't even cry, so she laid there, staring at nothing other than the wall. But to Angie, the whole night flashed before her eyes. She could see the involuntary glint of hope in Oscar's eyes vanish once she could look up at his face again.
I'm protecting him...from me.
Angie saw him drain the cup of its contents, and he stared directly into her eyes as if he heard her say some version of "but", however, she only released a sigh. He gave her one of his signature squints. The squint that told her he was seeing straight through her, breaking through her involuntary walls, but even she knew his tenacity would diminish sooner or later. He would give up, and she knew it would be better that way. She knew she could live with herself that way. The real question was whether or not she would be able to live without him.
"Angie," he paused as if making sure she was following him, "you don't get to do that."
She couldn't bear to look at him again because looking up would mean that she would be even more vulnerable than she already was.
"Do what?" she asked in a complete monotone.
She knew exactly what he was referring to, and she couldn't handle his persistence. It was overwhelming, but she didn't want him to leave; she just didn't want to admit it.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You have this whole self-defense mechanism that initiates itself whenever something potentially beneficial enters your life. But you don't see it that way. You see it as you protecting the other from yourself, when you're really protecting yourself from getting hurt-"
This is when she looked up at him, and it etched an immediate scar right in the center of her heart. The obvious pain he was releasing, the anger, the need, and that little fire of hope she thought she'd put out. And it hurt.
"You don't understand, Oscar," Angie barely got out, "I'm not good enough for you! I don't deserve you. I'm not protecting myself at all! You know how I know that? Because this hurts me just as much as it hurts you. I can't be the reason why you don't live a good, happy life."
Oscar gaped at Angie unable to express how wrong she was.
"No, Angie. You don't understand," he sat up much straighter at his desk nearly leaning off of it, "Today, when that gun barrel was aimed at your head and you were unprotected, I didn't even think about what I was doing. I just shot. I shot because if I ever lost you," Oscar had gotten out of his seat and made his way to Angie's desk, kneeling before her, continuing with much less frustration in his voice and her hands clasped in his on her lap, "Angie, I don't know how I could go on without carrying all the guilt and the pain on my back every day for the rest of my life. I couldn't."
Angie couldn't bring herself to look back down at him. She knew he meant every word he had said, and she knew that she felt the same way. All she did was pull her hands out from under his grasp, still looking anywhere but those deep brown eyes.
"Angie. Look at me," he brought his hand to her chin, but she moved away, "Angie. Look at me."
He was practically pleading - not with his voice, but with his eyes. She didn't even have to look at him to know that.
"I can't," she breathed.
It's better for the both of us.
Slowly, he got up from the floor, never losing his visual on her. He gathered his things and turned around toward the elevator. She watched him walk out the door. She watched the only light in her future begin to leave her.
I can't just let him walk away.
So before the doors swung shut, Angie ran to the closing doors, pushing them apart once more. Oscar immediately brought his eyes up to her face, but it was too much.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she spoke, looking down at the ground, hoping that was enough for him...and herself.
She brought her gaze up to his, hopeful. He couldn't speak, so he nodded very hesitantly, and Angie let the doors pull together.
She stayed a bit longer, however, she didn't touch the bottle of alcohol. All abilities were limited to thinking and soaking in what she had done. To him. To her. To them. When she felt the tears coming, she decided that was the time to go home, so she left.
Now, she lay there, still processing what had happened. She told herself that she had done the right thing. She'd repeated that he deserved better than her, and that he didn't need her problems and troubles. It was the only thing that was getting her through the night. She kept telling herself she was doing the right thing, still frozen in place until her phone buzzed.
No. Not work. Not now.
It wasn't work, just an email. Angie didn't even bother checking it, but she glanced at the time which read 12:34 AM. Sleep didn't feel like a necessity; it felt like a gift far away in the distance. She closed her eyes, at least attempting to fall into a slumber.
He's better off without you...you're doing the right thing...when you love someone, you put them first...
Love? The word slipped in her mind while she went through all her reasons, but she didn't protest.
I love him. I love Oscar Vega.
And with that finally being acknowledged, Angie drifted off to sleep...
The next day, Angie did see Oscar just like he said she would. It was an uneventful day for the duo - well, trio if you include Lucas. No new murder was reported, so they all got stuck with a stack of paperwork each.
The air was heavy with a silence that carried the tension and unresolved questions around the room. Oscar looked over at Angie expectantly as if she was going to apologize for last night, but she resisted the reflex to turn around. So there they all sat, quietly scribbling down the necessary information in each empty space. Totally awkward.
Finally, Lucas spoke up.
"I think I'm gonna go and uh - get - get some food! Yeah. I'm gonna go get some food. Anyone else want anything?"
"I'm sure Angie won't care-" Oscar was cut off by an impatient voice.
"Thank you, Oscar, but I can speak for myself."
Why did I say that? I'm not angry at him.
"Okay...I'm gonna go now."
Lucas hurried out the door toward the elevator, eliciting a sigh of relief once out of their earshot.
"What the hell is up with them? I know the last case was close to home, but damn," he said to himself as the doors closed.
Oscar and Angie were still at their separate desks in uncomfortable silence. Suddenly, Angie set her pen down on the still painfully high stack of papers.
She looked over at her partner.
"Vega," he didn't pause from his diligent writing, "I'm sorry I snapped. I didn't mean it. I'm just - tense."
He still worked as if she hadn't said anything. Angie just looked down at the ground near the bottom of his desk briefly before looking back to him. She took a deep breath.
"So what? You're giving me the silent treatment now?" she chuckled without amusement.
That caught Oscar's attention. He looked out in front of him, sat his pen down beside the paper he was currently filling out, and faced Angie with an unamused smirk. Silent.
"What do you want me to say, Oscar? I don't know what else you want me to say."
Vega's smirk was far gone, now replaced with a frown.
"I don't want you to say anything, Angie! I want you to talk to me."
"Talk to you? How am I supposed to talk to you if you don't make an effort to talk to me?"
"You've got to be kidding me. Really, Angie? Unbelievable."
He started working again.
What is happening?
"'Unbelievable? You know what?" Angie took a deep breath, her jaw jutted out a little bit to the side before it set, and she focused on the sheet of paper in front of her, "Never mind. We're at work."
Angie adjusted her jaw, eyes wide with disbelief as she continued her paperwork, attempting to distract herself from getting even more frustrated.
Neither of them could actually get any work done. Eventually, Oscar laid his pen back down and spoke once more.
"You want to know what I have to say, Angie?"
Angie disregarded her work, much more calm than a couple minutes earlier.
"By all means. Shoot."
Angie leaned back in her chair, holding her pen up close to her upper lip, eventually placing it in her mouth to chew it lightly.
Oscar paused before speaking, squinting his eyes, scrutinizing her entire face. Then, he spoke.
"You, Angie, need to figure out what you want."
I want you.
Angie disregarded that thought and instead replied, "That's it? That's all you have to say?"
Oscar resumed his position before they began their conversation and said simply, "That's it."
Angie considered that thought and nodded her head, turning her body back to her desk.
About a half hour later, Vega and Flynn's attention is brought to the swinging door, and the beautiful aroma of...
Chinese? YES!
"Finally! Damn, it took you forever to get back here!" Angie exclaimed forgetting about her work and the complicated feelings running through her mind to home all her energy on the newly arrived food. Oh, and Lucas, of course.
"I had to uh, guess on what everyone wanted, and then I had to wait for them to cook it and-"
Angie held up a finger, silencing her fellow detective while removing a box of what looked like chow mein along with chopsticks out of the take-out plastic bag that read, "Thank You!"
"You see, Lucas," Angie began, ungracefully scooping noodles into her mouth, "I don't really care. I just want the food."
He nodded, lips tight and big eyed, taking his box of food and utensils to his desk, leaving the rest for Vega who was grinning at the younger detective's mistake.
You don't stand in the way between Angie and her food.
Oscar picked up the last box and the last pair of chopsticks, shaking his head and making his way back to the awaiting pile of work he had to finish.
It was the end of an overall uneventful day. Everyone was gone besides Angie and Vega who were attempting to finish up the last few files, but damn. There's a lot of papers per file and even more writing to follow that. Finally, they both gave up, leaning back against their chairs. Oscar took a deep breath and exhaled. Angie had the palms of her hands covering her eyes.
"Goodnight, Angie," Oscar stated with a sigh, getting up from his chair.
Angie's head pointed instinctively toward him.
Don't go.
"Hey, wait."
Oscar turned around, waiting for her to continue.
"Why don't we grab a drink? I mean-"
"Thanks, Ang, but not tonight," he replied returning to his previous route toward the elevator.
Angie jogged up to him, "What makes tonight any different from another night?"
I know exactly what's different.
He gave her a sad smile, "You need to go home and think about you for once. Figure out what you want. Maybe we can grab a drink then."
And with that, he left Angie there. Alone. With only her thoughts for company. And the Lord knows that if there's anything Angie hates, it facing herself and her feelings. Alone.
ANNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDD...that is it for this chapter...I know. I'm sorry. It's been a long time coming and it's still like extremely freaking short, so I'm sorry. I also know that SkylarCat might be a little disappointed in how I set up this fic, and believe me, I'm very hesitant about it too, lol. But, I guess we'll see where the writing takes me! I've just been having a hard time lately, so my writing is really suffering. Like, for example, Angie and Oscar in this chapter are like kinda out of their comfort zone and really don't seem like themselves, so I'm sorry, but I knew everyone in the Motive fandom has been suffering from withdrawal. That is what this fanfic is for: it's to help you heal. Plus, I just started high school, so yeah. That's exciting. Anyway, hopefully I'll have chapter two done very soon. Love ya!
~ Em