Fear
Disclaimer: DW and NBC own the characters. I've never owned them, probably won't in the future. I own this little story. Woo hoo. And a laptop and that's about it...
A/N: Another new chapter you say? The madness! A new chapter? What's she talking about? If you've never read this story before, ignore this A/N. If you've read this story before and you're confused by all my editing after I post, read on... I apologize for my obsessive-compulsive rewrites (especially the ones that happen after I say a story is complete), for the lack of a beta when this was posted (I have one now and I have a feeling she's gonna be terrific), and for these A/N, because maybe you don't want to read the really long A/N as much as I love writing them. Anyway, I've changed this a little (there was some prompting from LSMunch to rewrite the first sentence of this drabble, so props to her, yes, that's right, props, because it's 4:00am and I've discovered I shouldn't write A/N at this hour - see drabble #5) or a lot. I like it now. I hope you do too. Tell me if you do, if you don't, if you hate my A/Ns, if you're wondering where Casey is...I'm open to it all.
She wasn't his partner and she'd never be his wife. She wasn't even really his friend. The definition of what she was to him was unbearable, but acceptable. Something she relished. To have any part of him was to have enough.
There were nights after an especially difficult case, one that blurred personal and professional issues, that he came to her apartment instead of going home. The first time he'd appeared at her door, he'd told her he'd wanted to go to Olivia. But Olivia wouldn't have understood. She would have wanted to talk. He wanted to feel, to make that numbness go away. Talking wouldn't do that.
She'd led him to the couch, offered him tea or beer. His hands were cold against her skin as he pulled her down beside him. He'd kissed her softly without any pretense or purpose. She hadn't asked questions, she hadn't needed explanations. It had never matter that he was only there because there was nowhere else to turn. She'd closed her eyes and pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth.
When he spoke, it was because he wanted to, not because she had prompted him to or even wished him to. He'd brushed the words into her temple, their bodies close, embracing but at the same time distant and removed from one another, unable to fully commit to the intimacy required for a hug, another kiss. "Sometimes I'm so afraid," he'd said.
She'd played with the hair at the back of his neck. "Of what?" She would have bet anything that he, of all of them, was the only one never to admit fear of anything.
At least aloud, to another person. She'd always believed saying things aloud made them real.
"Of losing them." Not her. Them. Olivia. Kathy. His children. Thought it was her he was turning to in his most desperate moment. The same her he would turn to over and over again in the months to come, not them.
She'd stepped away from him, completely then, upset that her skin was burning from even the lightest of his touches. "You have nothing to be afraid of." She would teach him to hold onto what he had and when she was the only one lost he would hold everything that much closer.