Based somewhere in season 3-4, loosely. I admit, for my first published NCIS fic it's a little dark, it was just on my mind. I'm not sure if I'm going to leave it here or expand. I have happier stories on the horizon. This piece is unbetaed, so all errors are related to it being 3am. Enjoy!
THE COMPANION
"I'm fine"
"Yes. You are very fine, but you are also very drunk."
"I had one too many, but I'll sleep it off"
"Uh-huh. You have stopped going to AA, am I right?"
"You would know."
"Then I know you have not been attending in the last few weeks."
"I've got it under control." Seeing that this was the wrong answer he coughed as he poured himself another drink. "I'll start going back."
"Sure you will." She sighed, and dropped the subject, it wouldn't changed things, and usually she didn't even bring it up.
He shrugged her off, she just didn't understand, everyone had their vices, and alcohol just happened to be his. He didn't rag on her and her problems, heaven knows he could. He wasn't sure how they had gotten here. It hadn't started out this way, sitting together in the dark. At first they had both needed someone to talk to, and it was now her alone that he confided in, and it was to her alone that he first admitted he may have a problem.
They had over the years, out of some common need become fast friends, and only friends. He trusted her implicitly in all aspects of his life, but he secretly feared he had become to great a burden on her even though she tried to convince him that this was not the case. He could tell, he could see the frustration and the strain behind her eyes when he started to slip, when his drinking started to edge beyond his control.
He couldn't seem to stop, he told himself over and over that he wasn't addicted, that he didn't have a problem, but the truth was, they both knew, he did. She never said so, and never seemed to judge him, but she knew. She had convinced him to attend AA meetings, she had done so by attending with him at first, and then apart, she had no reason to be there, these people were not the same as him, these people were real alcoholics. He just had too much sometimes, and she always seemed to notice, no matter how careful he tried to be. Over time she had found something in these people in AA and had started attending without him, she seemed to gain humanity from them.
The truth was, when he thought back he couldn't remember a time without a drink. Never while on the job, but always shortly after, with friends at first, before he began hiding how much he drank, and now nearly always minutes after arriving home. Alcohol had been his only companion through so many events, both good and bad. The only problem was some memories that he wished were sharper grew dimmer, and thoughts he wanted to say would disappear into a haze. He repeatedly told her the same few stories, often until much of the night had passed.
He didn't know why she kept coming back, but he found solace in the fact that she would be there with him, night after night. She had a lover, he knew despite her silence, she had a life outside of him, outside of this darkness, and yet here she was most night after night trying to understand why he behaved the way he did. Normally she simply let him drink, while she watched and listened, but occasionally she would join him. Sometimes she objected when he became belligerent, but mostly she watched. Watched what? He wondered, watched him fall apart? Fall from grace? No he understood that she was simply watching over him, not judging, only caring; the only way she knew how. It made him feel better, guilty, mad, he was robbing her. Why wouldn't she leave?
He chuckled, and she startled a little, he could just see her in the dim light. "Last call." he stated quietly as he put the bottle away, glancing at the clock. He had exactly eight hours to become sober and return to duty. "I will share this one with you then." he complied, like every night, when he announced his final drink. "To another tomorrow." he clinked their glasses together.
When they were finished she followed behind him and made sure he found his bed, a ritual that she couldn't remember the beginning of. She waited until she could hear him snoring softly and descended the stairs, quickly she picked up the remains of dinner and shut the front door behind her. Tomorrow would be no different than today when they both made it to work, their arrangement was their own, and of no business to the others, they both understood that once through the doors they were not friends, and neither took offense.
It was for different reasons, they knew, that they endured each other's silence, but together they knew that they were two people the same, and it was with that thought that she fell asleep in the arms of another man, one who would never understand, but the one that she loved unerringly, and as she drifted off she smiled.