The moon glimmers over the skyline as darkness blankets New York in a dark azure glow. The fabric of the city, woven together by individual lives, bustles on. Lights inside buildings flicker on, filling the night with manmade stars of a sort. The world spins on and time keeps moving, relentless, incessant as people carry on, proceeding through the motions of life. It's difficult to imagine that as your world is breaking, everyone else's continues spinning, but that's how it happens. That's how it always has.
It's Rick's third night back after his disappearance. He's standing outside their bedroom. His feet shuffle nervously, he reaches for the handle and hovers for a second before dropping it with a sigh. It's peculiar how everything is faintly alien, he feels foreign. He runs his fingers through his hair when he hears a muffled sob. It creeps through the crack beneath the door and reaches his ears, penetrating the illusion that things could go back to normal. He's so worried about her, it makes his heart hammer in his chest.
Normally, he would rush in and do his best to comfort Kate but ever since he returned, everything has been fragile between them. They're teetering on edge, tiptoeing, each step is careful and hesitant. He doesn't know what to do and it makes him feel so helpless.
Only two hours ago they were in the kitchen, eating a dinner that was just close enough to ordinary that it made his heart ache with longing. They were both abiding by unspoken rules, each living in their own separate glass box, pretending that everything was okay. Their conversation was pedestrian, avoiding painful subjects and anything that might stir up memories of the past few months. Apparently Rick hadn't done well because after a few minutes of pushing food around her plate, Kate nudged it away and announced that she was tired. She'd put her plate in the dishwasher and retreated to their bedroom, muttering a goodnight on her way there.
Rick has been waiting on the other side of the door ever since.
It's the next sob that urges him to enter, it's strangled and desperate. The sound startles him, he's never heard something so gut wrenching. It sends his fingers scrambling for the door knob, frantic and fumbling. He cracks the door just enough to slip inside, and shuts it softly behind him. He cautiously moves toward her crumbled form. From his view, she's a mass of sheets, a small bump on the mattress. The only thing that peeks out is the top of her head, chestnut waves spread atop the pillow. Rick's eyes search her posture for any clues that might tell him how to react, but nothing comes to mind, nothing has prepared him to comfort her when she's this distraught, this wounded.
Kate's legs are curled against her chest which quivers with each breath she takes. The inhales and exhales become more urgent, more rapid with each passing moment. It doesn't take long for Kate to work herself into violent shudders as she gasps for air between sobs. The hellish hurricane in her head only makes things worse, memories and nightmares interlace and reel through her mind. Her hand is pressed against her mouth in an attempt to muffle her tears, but they keep spilling over and tumbling down her cheeks, leaving paint splatter splotches on the sheet. Rick wonders how many times this happened in the months he was away, the thought tugs at his heart in the worst of ways.
Rick isn't sure what to do, but he knows he has to do something, so he walks closer, tiptoeing silently so he doesn't startle her. Gently, he lowers himself to the mattress and Kate feels it shift under his weight. She presses her face against the pillow, turning away from him. He sits beside her for some time, careful not to touch her or say anything, but eventually her cries become unbearable. He can't determine if it's the right thing or the wrong thing, regardless, he slides closer and places a hand on her trembling shoulder. "Kate," he whispers. She's still for a moment, hesitating before turning around. Her face is still covered by her hair and she conceals it into a pillow but at least she's facing him, somewhat. Slowly she reaches a hand out to him. He slips his fingers between hers and gives a reassuring squeeze. Kate returns it weakly.
"Can I hug you?" he asks. She offers the briefest tilt of a nod and opens her eyes as she brushes the hair out of her face. She sniffles and presses the back of her hand against her cheek, pushing away tears. She keeps her head down, avoiding his gaze as she sits up. Rick wraps his arms around her quivering frame and pulls her against him. Her heart lurches beneath her shirt and she buries her face into the crook of his neck. Tears wet his shoulder while he murmurs soft, soothing phrases into her ear. She's crying so hard she's hiccupping and her gulps for breath are nothing short of screams for help. The only thing Rick can do is be there, because sometimes words aren't enough. He's not sure how much time passes until her devastating flood of sobs fades into the slow tears of a trickling stream. Her gut twists in her chest as she clutches the fabric of his shirt, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feel of his skin.
"What's wrong?" he asks, although he already knows the answer. He needs to hear her say it, needs to know for sure before he can try to heal the agony he inadvertently created.
She fills her lungs with air in a swirling crescendo before the words fall from her lips. "God, Rick, I missed you so much," her voice hitches in her throat, "I was so scared, I started wondering if I was ever going to see you again and even though you're back, I'm still afraid I've lost you. Sometimes it just feels like I'm drowning and I don't know what to do."
It's the first time she's really talked to him since he was found. Her confession twists something inside of him. He kisses her forehead. He's at a loss for words and he loathes the feeling. He racks his brain, struggling for something to say that will alleviate her pain. "I know things haven't been the same since I disappeared but I need you to know that I would never have left on purpose. I'm not sure what happened, but I love you, and I never meant for any of that to happen."
She catches his eye and nods, so he continues, "I can't pretend to know what you're going through but I'm here now and you can always talk to me, whatever you need, I'll do it, whatever it takes to get you out of that water. I'm not going to let you drown, Kate."
"I know," she says softly, aware that his words are true and fully confident that someday she'll remember how to float.