'I Lost Him'
She walks the corridors, not really bothering to hide the pain. Every face she passes is a portrait of sympathy. She wishes she could just go numb, float along detached from the world, but she can't. Even if she wasn't a professional, it has become her nature to always be on the alert, aware and ready to act on whatever happens around her. Entering the locker room and moving towards his, she hesitates to open it, how could it possibly make things better?
She takes a breath and carries on anyway, she isn't going to hide from this. Inside is just what she'd expect, personal effects, spare jackets, and photographs stuck in a bunch on the inside of the door. Some with family and friends, one with her when he became an agent, and one with them laughing and joking with his arms around her.
Picking it from the collection she holds it close and caresses it gently, as if doing so could take her back to that moment, make everything stop hurting. She sits down on the bench, trying to lose herself in the memory.
It seemed like he was invincible. After all he'd survived much worse in the past, how could this happen?
She draws a shocked breath as she hears his voice at her side. She looks up but of course it isn't him, it couldn't have been as much as she wanted it to be.
His mirror, his twin from the other side. So alike on first glance, but a completely different man underneath. He adjusts his glasses awkwardly, obviously aware of how his presence must be making her feel right now.
Nevertheless, he wants to stay for a while. He's a good, skilled man and can be of great help, and she suspects, because he feels like he could belong like he used to back home.
But he won't stay if it is going to hurt her. So he asks if it's possible, if she can work with one who has the face and life of her dead partner. Of course it will hurt, but maybe, just maybe, it can help her heal as well.
She looks at him, manages to raise a weak smile.
She says yes.