Author's Notes:

Hi everyone,

This is something I have been playing around with, another multi-chapter fic set six months after the end of Repentance. Although you don't have to have read that to get this, it is very much a continuation of those characters after the events of that story, so some things may not make sense if you haven't.

I'm hoping to post fairly regularly, though a warning that it won't be every day, especially as I'm currently moving house... should be packing... but I'm typing...

Anyway hope you guys like this first chapter!

Gingham xx

Through This Horror

Chapter 1

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by each experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, "I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along." You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

Eleanor Roosevelt

()

Jack Robinson sat at the table in the front garden of Wardlow and watched the sun setting behind the houses.

His head was aching after a long and difficult day at City South. The case that the Deputy Commissioner had brought to him…

But he didn't want to think about that just now. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, taking in the lavender scented evening air.

He could the hum of traffic a few streets over, the wail of a cat somewhere in the gardens. From inside the house he could hear the faint sounds of laughter; Jane, presumably, amusing Mr Butler as he prepared the evening meal.

It must have been six months since he and Phryne had sat here together in the aftermath of the Cosgrove case; him a reluctant guest, her a force of nature on the side of his return to good health and standing. He had been brought so low by his failure to find that little girl.

Somehow, Phryne had kept him held together, kept him standing when he could envision no future but lying drunk on the floor of his bungalow.

And out of the ashes….

He smiled to himself.

Six months. Six months they stopped denying themselves. Six months since he realised he could imagine no other life but with her. It had been the best six months of his life, without question. Everything they had been through had forged them into a stronger partnership. And they were reaping the rewards, no doubt about it. He could never have imagined being as open with anyone as he was with Phryne. Not his family, not even Rosie. Knowing each other so well allowed them a certain freedom. He'd never been as playful as he could be with her. She'd never made herself as vulnerable. They'd never laughed as much; that was unexpected too, given the various traumas that had been instrumental in bringing them together. Their shared experience had allowed them a relationship free from judgement and restrictions; at least, that was the case internally.

Externally, things had to be a little more restrained. Being one half of a committed couple with no plans to marry may be easier for a daughter of a Baron than for a police inspector, but Jack found that as long as they didn't flaunt it too much, most people were content to let them be. He kept on his bungalow for reasons of propriety, but in actual fact he spent most of his time at Wardlow, where he had been happy to become more and more engrained in Phryne's loving and (thankfully) liberal minded family unit.

"Jack?"

He opened his eyes and found himself looking into the face of a bemused 16 year old.

Jane. There was another benefit of this family life at Wardlow, one that he had been surprised to find he missed almost as much as Phryne on those rare occasions he did venture back home. Jack had imagined himself as a father, a long time ago. But somehow his imaginings had never stretched this far. To be… not a father, of course, but somehow significant in the life of a teenage girl was an odd sensation, and one that had taken him a few months to get used to. It wasn't so difficult really, given that he and Phryne had found her together. Technically, he supposed, he had known her longer (by minutes). But it had been Phryne who had taken her in, given her a home and a family, and a new life. And at first, Jack had worried about how Jane would feel about him inserting himself into this life. But when she had returned from Europe, Jane had seemed to accept his relationship with Phryne as old news. Pleasant, but old. In fact, she claimed (with all the precocious wisdom of a teenager) that she had known all along. She even had the mistletoe incident as proof. Phryne had said, proudly, that it showed the makings of a legal mind.

"Hello."

"Aren't you coming in?" Jane wore her hair loose these days, having dismissed her pigtails as childish long ago. It stretched down her back to a ridiculous length. Jack wondered how she wasn't constantly catching it in doors.

"I am," he said, rising. "How was your day?"

"Highly uninteresting," Jane replied, leading him into the house. "Packing is so dull."

Jane had returned to Melbourne for Christmas but was planning another European trip. Paris, to take some courses and improve her French before thinking about university. He knew Phryne secretly wished she would study in Australia, but she would never intrude in what had to be Jane's decision.

"You don't have to take everything. There are shops in Paris, I understand."

She looked at him to make sure he was joking, and smiled. Her year abroad had given her Phryne's interest in fashion, and her wardrobe now took up half her bedroom.

"It's the books," she said, referring to what was taking up the other half. "They're so heavy."

"Ah, well." Jack smiled down at her as he hung up his hat and overcoat. "You know, I'm more than willing to take temporary custody of them."

"I bet you are," said Jane, playfully. Over the last few months, they had bonded over a shared love of literature.

"I'm just thinking of you. I don't want the boat to sink."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "That's exactly what Phryne said."

"Great minds think alike." Her clear voice startled him, and he looked up to see its owner descending the staircase, resplendent in a white blouse and silken electric blue skirt. He blinked, taken, as always, by her radiance. He rarely saw her outfits till the evening, or during the day if they worked on a case together. He looked forward to it every day, the discovery of what combination of fur or feathers or silk he would get to unwrap later. When he left in the mornings, she was usually still in a robe, if not actually in bed. A fact, he had argued, that made it so much harder to leave in the mornings.

That, she had argued, was very much the point.

She inclined her cheek to him as she reached him and he kissed her, breathing in her scent.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"He was sitting outside," Jane answered.

Phryne darted a look at him. "Was he?"

Jack smiled at her reassuringly. She was always alert; part of her fear, he knew, that he would come up against a case that would remind him of Lucy Cosgrove. It wasn't overbearing, and he didn't begrudge it. He knew she had suffered through that whole episode as much as he had. He appreciated it, her watching for trouble, as much as he regretted that she had to do it.

But they had an agreement. He would carry that case forever. He tried not to let it haunt him, though, of course there were times it did. Going back to work had meant accepting that possibility. There had been cases. There had been times it had hurt again. But they had always talked about it, and between them, made it better. She was watchful, he knew. But she was trusting as well.

Somehow that made what he was actually hiding worse.

"Just shaking off the day," he said.

"Tough one?" she asked.

"Mmm."

She looked at him with concern.

"Just the usual," he said, trying to indicate that it was nothing for her to worry about.

She nodded and seemed to relax. Jane disappeared into the kitchen. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around his waist, pulling her into him.

"Hello," she said, smiling at his closeness.

"I missed you today," he said, nuzzling into her hair.

"I meant to come and see you," she replied. "But then Aunt Prudence announced she was coming for dinner. A goodbye meal for Jane."

"She's not going for three days."

"But Aunt Prudence is busy tomorrow and the next day." Phryne added a dramatic flair to her next sentence. "So we must bend to the society calendar!"

He chuckled. "I see."

"I think she just wants to see you." Phryne smirked.

Prudence Stanley had been one of Jack's biggest supporters during his absence from the police force, and was now fully supportive of his relationship with her niece. In fact, she had recently insisted that Jack take to calling her "Aunt Prudence". As much as he appreciated the kindness of the offer, Jack couldn't quite bring himself to do it yet.

"Something smells nice," he remarked.

"My perfume?" she asked, innocently.

He smiled. She smelt delightful, as usual, but for once that wasn't what was making his mouth water. "Eau de chicken fricassee?"

"I thought you deserved a good meal," Phryne laughed. "You've been working too hard lately."

"Mmm. God bless Mr. Butler," Jack murmured.

"What about me?" Phryne smirked, her fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his neck.

"God bless you, too."

Her lips parted in a smile before meeting his, revelling in the feel of him.

()

Much later, Phryne closed the door behind her departing Aunt with a guilty pang of relief. She loved her Aunt, and been touched and relieved at her support of her relationship with Jack. Though perhaps seen as upright and proper (and possibly even dragon-like) by most of Melbourne's high society, Prudence was kind enough and human enough to recognise a loving partnership when she found it, no matter how unconventional it might be in the eyes of others. Any other day, Phryne would have been content to spend an evening in her company, but tonight something about Jack's demeanour had bothered her enough to draw her attention away from the conversation.

Outwardly, he seemed almost the same. He'd come in, chatting happily enough with Jane about her upcoming adventure. He'd drawn her in close, kissed her, breathed her in. All of these things were good signs. She knew to be worried when retreated from her, not when he sought her out. Part of her was always on alert for those warning signs; the sullen silences, the tiredness, the wish to be alone, those empty gazes resting on the horizon. She knew they spelled danger, a return to a place they had both struggled long and hard to escape from. But he wasn't like that tonight. He smiled, he conversed easily with Jane and Prudence, he was affectionate with her, perhaps more so than usual. He just seemed quieter, somehow. Sadder, maybe?

She made her way back into the parlour. Jane had retired to bed sometime before and Mr Butler was in the kitchen tidying up. Jack was sitting on the chaise, leaning back against the cushions heavily. He gave her a tired smile as she returned and made her way to the drinks cabinet.

"Whiskey?"

"Please."

She poured two, and brought them over to the chaise, relinquishing one before reclining against him. He settled her into their now familiar position, his hands resting lightly on her body as she laid against his chest.

There was a soft silence.

"You're quiet tonight."

Was that a sudden tension she could feel beneath her? His breath brushed over her hair as it left him.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise."

More silence. Jack pressed his nose into her hair.

"You're alright?" she pressed.

"Yes, I'm fine." He sounded reassuring rather than impatient and Phryne relaxed slightly. "There is something I need to tell you though."

She angled her head back to look at him. "What is it?"

"I've been asked to go away for a while."

"Why?!" She noted, with some annoyance, how unhappy that prospect made her.

He smiled at her indignant expression. "Not because of anything bad. There's a case in a small town near Adelaide. They only have a tiny police force and they're struggling."

"So they've asked you to lead the investigation?" Despite the prospect of his absence, she was pleased. It did Jack good to be reminded of how respected and valued he was in the police force.

He nodded, his eyes thoughtful.

"What kind of case is it?"

"A murder."

"How intriguing!" She sat up, any former tiredness leaving her.

A slight grimace crossed his face.

"Would you… need any assistance with this case?" she pressed hopefully. The prospect of a holiday with Jack (even a holiday involving a murder, which was par for the course, really) dangled invitingly in her imagination.

But Jack was shaking his head. "No." At her affronted expression, he hurried to console her. "I'm sure you would be invaluable. As always. But…" he looked uncomfortable. "There's some sensitivity about this. I can't tell you much about it."

"Even more intriguing!" Phryne breathed. "What can you tell me?"

"Not much."

"Anything more than you've told me already?"

A pause. "No."

"Jack!" It was almost a wail.

"I'm sorry, Phryne," Jack sounded genuinely contrite. "My hands are tied."

Phryne felt a sense of being cast adrift. "But…" she tailed off, at a loss. "Surely..." she snaked her hands around his neck, certain that her powers of persuasion were up to the task.

"Phryne…" Jack said warningly, his hands on hers. She understood. She'd never had to bring those tactics into play with him, not since they had become intimate, anyway. If he said he couldn't tell her, it was probably because he really couldn't tell her.

"How long will you be away?"

He shrugged. "Two weeks. Maybe three. As long as it takes, really."

She frowned. "That seems deeply unfair. When do you have to go?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!"

"I only found out today."

"Why didn't you say before?" Her expression was tinged with concern. This all seemed very odd.

He scratched his head, looking awkward. "I didn't want to interrupt dinner."

"Jack!" She blew out her breath impatiently.

"I know… Look," he said, pulling her onto his chest. "I'm not particularly happy about it either. It's a long time away and… I don't relish the prospect of investigating anything without you trying to beat me to the solution the whole time."

She let herself melt into him, her cheek pressed up against his chest. "Is that your way of grudgingly admitting that you'll miss me, Inspector?"

"No." He allowed himself a small chuckle. "This is my way of admitting that: I'll miss you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiled despite herself.

"You'll leave before Jane," she said, after a short silence.

"I'll say goodbye to her properly tomorrow."

She looked up towards him. "And how do you plan to say goodbye to me?"

Their eyes met. She felt his breath deepen in his chest. "Properly," he rumbled.