I can't sleep tonight. He is gone, off to fulfill more important obligations. And I don't hold it against him, not in the slightest. But that doesn't change the fact that I can't sleep tonight; because my mind can't stop replaying the events of today with a thousand different ways it could have ended, none of them good. And I try to tell myself that there was a happy ending today, and I should save the what if's for future situations where it might be useful to be thinking of many different scenarios. And I try reminding myself that he is fine and perfectly whole and having a great night with his daughter, but that doesn't stop my hands from trembling or my brain from trying to figure out what I would have done if it hadn't turned out like this. It's a terrible thing to think about, and I don't want to and I'm trying to stop - but today was too close. Too damn close to all of my worst fears.

I am startled from my bed at the sound of my front door opening. My heart leaps with hope, but I am a realist and so I quietly pad into the living room, my body tensed and ready to defend myself. I have a gun nearby, just in case. But none of it is necessary, because it is him. He looks up at me from his place on my couch, but he doesn't say anything. I can see his hands are shaking with an undisguisable tremor. His is worse than mine, because my trembling is barely noticeable anymore. I plop down in the chair across from him and look him over, checking again for any injuries. He is fine. Our eyes meet and hold for a second, two; and then he breaks eye contact and scrubs his face with his hand exhaustedly.

"How long?" I ask, nodding at his hands.

"Since I dropped Grace off at Rachel's." His response is almost a whisper.

I nod, and we lapse back into silence. I lean back in the chair, and study him. He is sitting rigidly alert with leftover adrenaline, and yet somehow weakly exhausted at the same time. I stand up, grab a blanket from the box on the floor, and drape it over his shoulders.

"Get some sleep." My voice is rough on purpose, because I am afraid otherwise he might hear all the what-could-have-been's that are banging around, trapped in my mind. They're giving me a headache. Apparently he has them too though, because now he squeezes the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes.

I suddenly feel bad for wanting to keep my feelings to myself. He didn't come here to just sleep on my couch, and we both know it. I sit back down in the chair.

"Today was too close."

He looks up, disbelief in his eyes.

"Really? Really. Too close? Are you kidding me? That was way beyond too close! That was...that was..." He throws his hands in the air, trying to disguise the shaking in his voice as he tries to think of the right words to describe today. His next words come out quieter, broken somehow.

"That was Grace about to be fatherless."

I swallow hard. It was exactly that, and yet at the same time, it was so much more than that. He means something to more people than just Grace, means something more than he probably even realizes. But my thoughts are interrupted as he remembers that he has something else to rant about.

"And you! You didn't leave, you big idiot! If it had all gone south, you would have died! Died! Do you understand that word? It means Grace would have lost you too! Why didn't you leave?"

I don't know if he is really asking or not, but I answer anyway.

"I couldn't. And before you say anything," I interrupt his spluttering. "you wouldn't have either."

He quiets at that, wondering. He doesn't look convinced, because he's just come from a night with Grace and he doesn't want to think that he would ever have to choose to leave her. But he can't deny that I am right, because there is a tiny doubt in his mind, wondering if he would have risked Grace's father's life and stayed with me. And the fact that he can't say he wouldn't have is enough to shut him up.

And I know that tomorrow, and more days after it, will reveal the answer to him. He has already answered this question in his heart, and soon he will remember that in his mind. And I already know that he would not have left, not even for Grace - and that is why I had to stay.

So now I stand up again, and leave him to wonder on my couch. My hands have stopped trembling, and I think I can sleep now.

"Goodnight," I say as I walk out; and he whispers it back. And the simple joy of knowing that he is alive, and here on my couch and he can still rant and be mad at me for my idiotic tendencies and he is still able to say goodnight - but mostly, that he's still gonna be here tomorrow - is what brings a smile to my face as I slide back into bed. And this time, I am asleep within minutes.

AN - I am new to this fandom, so if anybody is OOC, please let me know. Thanks.