A/N: A combination of insomnia, year 3 on DVD and the music gods playing the same song over and over again has lead to this. I go through songfic phases and have found that it really is just easier to roll with it.
I'm not supposed to be scared of anything
But I don't know where I am
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted
And nobody understands
He was happy for her, of that he was sure. That she would willingly sacrifice herself to help her sister was a testament to her integrity and strength. And he admired her for it. Sure, he had his own blood obligation to live up to, but his was easy compared to what she was undertaking.
So why was he so angry with her? Why did he resent her? And was it really her he resented, or was it the situation he found himself in, without her?
Sure, the captain had tried to make it easy on him, assigning him a capable partner. And she, although not working in the field, was still around the bullpen, helping where she could. But nothing felt right; everything was out of sync.
There was no one who understood and that terrified him.
I'm tryin' hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs
There's no one here to talk to
And the pain inside is making me numb
He had tried to talk to her, tried to tell her that he was scared for her and for himself. But the words wouldn't come.
They would sit down, taking a few moments to reconnect, and he would just stare at her, his thoughts dissonant and confusing. She would look at him, questioning his silence with her eyes, before making small talk about the weather or her family, saddened by his taciturnity. He observed that she was careful to avoid talking about the actual pregnancy or about his temporary partner.
He perpetually berated himself, emotionally, for his lack of candor with her. He didn't know which was worse, the pain of her absence or the pain of his cowardice.
Yet, he carried on, continued to work and clear cases.
Now I'm going through changes, changes
God I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes
Not that clearing cases was easy, with her gone. He felt like he was missing part of himself; the rational, grounded part. His interim partner seemed competent enough, but they didn't click. He often felt at odds with her, opposing theories making cases more difficult than they actually were.
Many a day ended with him banging his head against a proverbial wall, trying to see the connection that he knew was there. He became quick to anger, clearly frustrated by his inability to make the leaps that were often necessary in his vocation.
He felt like he was drowning, suffocating while a life grew out of his loss.
I'm feelin' weak and weary walkin' through this world alone
Everything I say, every word of it, cuts me to the bone
I've got something to say but now I got nowhere to turn
It feels like I've been buried underneath all the weight of the world
Surrogacy ruled his life and he began to consider abandoning reason. He had reached the point where his adjutant partner was an annoyance to be tolerated only to please his supervisors. He knew he was a few short steps from cracking, from giving himself over to the war going on inside him.
He wanted to go to her and share in her journey. He wanted to help her and comfort her when the realization that she was only a temporary vessel, carrying someone else's happiness, came over her. Yet, she also held his life in her hands. His happiness, his sanity, those parts of him depended on her presence.
And he doubted that she knew. For he had never dared even imply that he needed her so desperately, that the sun rose and set with her. He was petrified that he would lose her if she ever discovered his dependence.
I'm blind and shaking
Bound and breaking
I hope I make it through all these changes
A subtle, destructive fear began to make its way into his every day life. He was slowly being devoured by a sense of perdition, his mind creating it's own personal hell of undeniable solitude. A place where he was surrounded by the people he knew, but where he was invisible; inconsequential and unseen by those he cared for, assaulted him when he closed his eyes.
He began sleeping less and less, fueling his body with coffee and sugar to keep moving. If he stood still for more than a few moments, his fears would start to push forward, threatening to consume him. Motion; whether physical or intellectual; was the only thing that kept his emotions at bay.
As he fought against his mental shackles, his outward demeanor became stony. He began shutting down, finding little reason to talk to anyone, especially her.
When I get suffocated save me
Now I'm falling apart now I feel it
The final straw was a small one, but sometimes a little weight is all that is required. It took a case involving video games to finally make him see what was causing his damnation. It was so simple, he almost wept at the realization. Once he had admitted to himself that all he needed to do was give in, he was released.
He had defined his fear. Now all he needed to own it was give it a name.
God I feel so frustrated lately
And I get suffocated I hate this
But I'm going through changes, changes
After receiving the news of the birth, he rushed over to the hospital, needing to see for himself that she was truly okay. He rushed into a room filled with family, feeling every bit the outcast he believed himself to be.
She welcomed him warmly, holding him to her longer than was professional. She had missed him the past few weeks, watching in horror as he slipped into himself, shutting her out. She hadn't expected to see him so soon after the delivery, thinking that his fear would keep him away.
He stood and made small talk for several hours, silently wishing that everyone would leave so he could talk to her, bear his soul and beg her forgiveness. Finally, as evening stretched into night, the room began to empty, until they were left alone.
He pulled a chair close to her bedside and perched on the edge of it, trying to get close without appearing to. She smiled, not fooled by his act. Seeing that his performance was unconvincing, he dropped all pretenses and took her hand.
Occasional tears running down his face, he confessed his sins; selfishness, fear and intolerance; to her. As he spoke, he continued to hold her hand, reconnecting with her, as he should have been doing through the entire pregnancy. He proclaimed himself unworthy of her, sobbing quietly whenever he ran out of words.
She comforted him, reassured him that she wasn't going anywhere. That she wouldn't leave him without a fight. And she held his hand, knowing that their partnership was changing, and glad for it.
Fin
