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He could slowly feel his heart begin to beat again. The echo of the dull thump reminded him that he was still alive. The pain of her absence had not stopped his heart as he had originally thought. He was so distracted by the new sensation of life beginning to course through his body that he did not recognize his own doorbell. It was minutes later before he realized what that sound meant. He hesitated, that door and that sound had brought the awful realization of this nightmare; The physical proof of her distance.
It had been two days. Somehow he had managed to call in sick to work. The consummate professional, To an extent. He gave no excuse, he was sure they could guess. Of course Stella came to check on him, probably frantically worried that he might eat his service weapon. No need. For the last two days he merely existed, on life support but without activity. He vaguely remembered Stella calling Mac, telling him that he wasn't good. He couldn't even string sentences together. He just pointed. He just pointed to the small velvet box sitting in front of him on the coffee table. He didn't need to say anything else. That would have explained everything; his sudden muteness, the rapid onset of photophobia, which would explain the complete darkness of his apartment. He hadn't checked but he had a feeling that during his time on the couch, Stella hid his steak knives and aspirin. He wasn't dead yet, he knew that, if he was he hoped that this sharp pain in his heart would have left.
It was as if all his senses were returning to him. He could feel the sensation of the blood returning to his hands. He could hear the loud thumping of his heart, and he could smell, god, he could smell the sweet scent of jasmine and honeysuckle.
Lindsay.
He jumped up. He knew she was there, he finally realized why blood began to course through his veins, and why his heart had felt compelled to beat again.
The doorbell. How long ago had he heard that noise? He pulled open the door and looked down the hallway. Empty. He ran down the hallway to the stairwell and flew down the six flights. He ran out into the street, his heart beating faster not because of the most physical exertion he had down is two days, but it was as if his heart knew she was nearby. When he ran outside into the bright sunlight be was temporarily blinded, so instead he shouted.
"Lindsay!"
As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw her turn. The sun glowed around her soft amber curls. She was so beautiful, but looked tired, as if their separation had adversely affected her as well. He knew he couldn't breathe from the pain of her absence and wondered briefly if she had done any better. He looked into her eyes and finally the sharp pain that had been the only reminder that he was alive disappeared. He was overwhelmed by sudden warmth. He could finally take a deep breath. He could feel the tears running down his face.
Suddenly she walked the two steps towards him and collapsed into his arms. Her tears seeped into his shirt as she clung to him. The beating of his heart slowed as if syncing to hers. It was as if it could only beat slowly, properly, steadily if in her presence. They clung desperately to each other. There was no need for apologies, no more arguments, their few days apart emphasized that they could not exist without the other. They were finally together, finally home.