He was sitting in the dark at his desk staring at the blank screen of his laptop. He could no longer remember how long he'd been sitting there. His initial thought was to try and write more on his current Nikki Heat book. But every time he thought about his character, he thought about Beckett. And one of four images would pop into his head: standing in the quarantine tent; being in the freezer; standing next to the bomb; and her wrapped in Josh's arms. Each scene was a different kind of hell. Therefore nothing had been written.
He was still cold from nearly freezing to death in a giant freezer. And it wasn't the usual being chilly from the outside kind of cold either. He felt as if the very blood pumping through his veins was frozen. And was imagining that little ice crystals were currently floating through his bloodstream. He knew he should get up and get a blanket or make something warm to drink and sit by the fire. That's what he knew he should do, but he couldn't seem to make himself care enough to actually get up and do it.
So he sat, freezing cold down to the tips of his toes, staring at a blank computer screen and trying not to think about the fact that the only place he really wanted to be was with Beckett.