The Journey.
By The Bexster
My thanks to Susan for providing the perfectly apt title when my mind wasn't working at all. Thanks to the Graveyard.
I wrote this, surprisingly, on a train journey. It is the quickest piece I have ever written. I hope you all enjoy.
Disclaimer: CBS and Zuicker's show and characters, not mine. Unfortunately.
The scenery passed by the train as he watched. Trees, houses, roads, all blended into one as they sped on. Rivers presented a flash of blue, fields a gentle golden colour.
He saw it all and took it all in, used the passive countryside to calm him as he travelled.
Angry words had been spoken in haste, but they had hurt deeply. He had not been paying attention, so she had told so. There were reasons why, so important, but he had not been prepared to tell so he just left her with the weak excuses she had been so tired of hearing from him. She was sick of it because she needed him, her heart longed for him and he had no idea because she could not possibly feel the same way for him that he did for her.
That is what he had kept trying to tell himself.
She had used the words she had said as a defense for her heart, to stop herself from telling him that which she longed to, but never believed she would hear back.
She knew him so well, knew exactly how to hurt him. It was the heat of the moment, but she said them anyway. He could not answer her accusations, he could not answer her at all and that had been the way he had hurt her in return, to make her think he did not trust her enough to tell her his fears.
It was a lie. He trusted her with everything. He just could not admit his problems to himself.
A station shot past causing a brief change in sound to his journey. It brought him out from his thoughts for a moment and he savoured the sound.
The root of his problems.
The sun disappeared behind a large bank of cloud but he did not remove his sunglasses. They kept the world from seeing eyes that had cried long and hard. He had cried for her. It had surprised him how much his heart ached for her and made him realise his mistake. He had never felt this way before. Not even close.
So he had left. Taken extended leave and the next train out without a word. He had to go and he could not tell her that. She would have asked him not to. He would have stayed and nothing would have changed.
Three days later, he sent her a letter telling her everything. Pages and pages, he explained every little detail; of his illness, of how afraid he was, of how much he loved her. He apologsed for his actions, he apologised for his cowardice, and not being able to tell her face to face.
Every day without an answer chipped away at his soul, but he needed something from her before he went back. He had planned to just hop trains, travel the country and see places he never had, but he ended up staying in one place, chose a small seaside town and stayed there, barely leaving his small guest house room.
A week, his resolve crumbling, he awoke to find a message left on his cell phone. He had stared at it afraid to listen, but he chided himself for being stupid and he listened. It was short.
"I love you. Please come home."
Her voice bathed him in love and security, and he felt better now than he ever had.
He rang her back but her phone was switched offso he left a message.
"I'm coming home, my love. I miss you."
The Vegas skyline loomed in the distance and his heart began to beat faster, the time of his salvation was so near.
The Nevada desert sped past as the train neared its destination, beautiful in its loneliness, but he did not see it. His eyes were turned inwards, imagining meeting her again.
The train pulled up to the platform achingly slowly while his heart raced. He walked off into the throng, found a spot to stand and looked for her, hoping desperately she was there, that she had come for him.
He panicked. He could not find her. His eyes searched every face around him frantically, looking for her amazing eyes. What if she had changed her mind? What if she did not want him?
The people disappeared and he dropped his bag to the floor, the end of the adrenaline rush left him exhausted. He lowered his head and wondered where it had all gone wrong. He could feel himself dying inside.
And then, to top it all, he could not hear. No sound of footsteps, no sound of gentle voices calling. He felt her presence a second before he jumped at her soft touch on his shoulder.
He looked to her face, her crying eyes and felt tears of his own. He watched as she said his name, saw her lips move and gestured to his ear, crying harder through frustration.
She took his head in her hands and brought her lips to his, gently at first until she felt him respond, using the feel of her lips as sanctuary. She could never have imagined the problem, but she would have never left him to face it without her had she known.
His ears came back to him and he pulled away from her. She regarded him, He had never seemed so lost in all his life.
"I'm so sorry…" he began. She shook her head and placed a finger to his lips.
"Don't." She pulled him into an embrace. "I know you're afraid. So am I. But I'll never leave you alone. I promise."
They kissed again, oblivious to the curious onlookers. They were hungry for each other, lost in each other. They were all they had ever needed.
"I love you," she whispered against his lips, rewarded as he renewed his effort.
They finally let each other go, and she took his hand, waited for him to pick up his bag and then led him out of the station to her car, to her house.
"Catherine?"
They stopped and she raised a hand to his cheek.
"Yes, Gil?"
He regarded her for a few moments, and she waited patiently for him to talk.
It was a moment she would remember for the rest of her life. A moment she had waited for since the first time she had looked into his eyes.
"I love you too."
(All because I'm a sucker for happy endings! Bec.)