Heat. The air was thick with it...and thick with the stench of black smoke billowing from the twisted metal. Sharp, mangled, glowing in places and smoking in others, still groaning in protest as parts shifted under the brutal power of the flames.
Something exploded, glass shattering before the fireball that erupted. People screamed, but none so loud as the dirty redhead clawing at the two men holding her back...
"TOMMY!!!"
Haley jerked awake with a cry.
Shaking hands clutched a blanket to her face as she choked on a sob. Ragged breaths came too fast to catch them. She shuddered hard, sobbing again and hating herself for it.
Don't let him hear...
She sucked in a quivering breath, and another, and another, till she could do it without a hitch or sob. The thick black blanket suddenly felt oppressive and Haley shoved it away, sitting up and running shaking hands through her tangled hair.
She'd fallen asleep on Tommy's couch again.
Groaning softly, she rested her elbows on her knees and wearily rubbed at her eyes. She hadn't intended to do that...
The floor creaked and she had to push her matted hair back out of her eyes to look up.
Damp skin glistening in the dim light, Tommy padded from the bathroom to the end of the hall, one hand clutching the towel around his waist. He fumbled with the bedroom doorknob and the towel slipped.
Haley averted her eyes. He would turn, see if she'd noticed. He was already self-conscious enough without her adding to it.
Modesty had never been much of an issue before. But Tommy had grown ashamed of his body and how it betrayed him.
The door clicked shut.
For a time Haley just sat...staring at his shadow moving around under the crack beneath the door, struggling with a deep seated desire to pull the blanket back over her aching head and refuse to face another day. She fingered the blanket absently. Tommy had put it there for her at some point...
He was still trying...
As much as he seemed like a different person, one she didn't know, it was still Tommy. Her Tommy. Thoughtful...decent...the definition of a gentleman.
Frustrated...hurting...struggling just to cope.
She allowed herself another moment of childish whimsy, then squared her shoulders and pushed off the couch. Moving into the kitchen she plugged in the toaster and started pulling pans from under the island. He couldn't give her a hard time about breakfast if it was done by the time he finally found his way in here.
When Tommy got defensive over breakfast, irritably reminding her that he could take care of himself or just refusing to let her interfere, it cast a sour tone to her entire day. He didn't understand that she needed this. It was relaxing. It was her period of Zen. It was why she owned a café.
Cooking released something inside, something that never quite unclenched until there was a spatula in one hand and a flame before her. It freed the logical part of her mind while occupying the part that worried and fretted. Let it fret over burning eggs instead of the man losing himself a little more every day.
The island, which doubled as a bar and kitchen table due to lack of space, was covered with food when Tommy finally wandered into the kitchen. The blistering glare he'd been aiming at his partially knotted tie faded into an expression of surprise as he took in all she had done, "...did I miss something?"
"Nope." Haley planted a light kiss on his cheek and he jerked back, dark eyes reflecting shock as he searched her face. Her smile was subtle and she patted his cheek in apology.
The food had worked its magic, her mood had lightened considerably and Tommy could only stare in stunned confusion as she slid onto a stool and began shoveling eggs onto a plate. "Come on, Oliver," she waved a hand over the bacon in a shooing motion as if to waft the smell towards him. "Before it gets cold."
Absently buttoning his collar, Tommy took a seat, still looking perplexed. She noted he didn't struggle with the buttons half as much when he was distracted. Or maybe he'd just been practicing.
"Why the fancy clothes?" she asked as she buttered a piece of toast for him.
"It's Tuesday."
Haley flinched, missing the toast and a swath of butter ended up on her wrist. Stupid stupid...of course it was Tuesday. She slid the toast onto his plate and reached for a napkin. How could she be so stupid?
In an instant the tension was back. It curled around her stomach and squeezed.
Haley detested Tuesdays.
She should feel guilty for that...this was for Tommy's benefit. But she was unrepentant.
It had been Anton's idea to begin with; in fact he was the one footing the bill. And she couldn't help but feel the smallest bit of resentment towards him for it. He meant well...but he wasn't here.
At first Tommy had vehemently rebelled against the idea. Haley still didn't know what the older man had said to change his former student's mind…and she'd quickly grown tired of having a verbal door slammed in her face every time she tried to ask.
Therapy.
Just the word made her feel uneasy.
Physical therapy she could deal with. It was difficult and painful but Tommy had always walked or sometimes limped away with some measure of satisfaction. Psychotherapy? It only had two possible outcomes, one of two ways Tommy would go through the rest of the day. Dark and brooding or irritable and bitchy as hell. Ether way he was impossible to live with.
She picked up her fork and put it down again, appetite gone. Tommy was hunched over his plate, apparently ignoring her. But he noticed everything. She forced herself to eat.
They ate in silence and cleared the island in silence. Haley felt an uncomfortable twinge every time she glanced in his direction. Tommy hadn't tried to shave again and the stubble was in sharp contrast with his professional clothing.
He always tried to leave a good visual impression on the shrink...as if he had something to prove.
Haley caught his arm as he walked past her from the sink, gently tugging him closer. Her hand slid down his arm and she wordlessly buttoned the cuff of his shirt. Tommy looked away when she tightened his tie.
She let her hands linger, willing him to turn back. He glanced at her but couldn't meet her eyes. It was humiliating.
She dropped her hands.
"I'll be in the jeep."
