It had been three weeks since he had dropped her off at the hospital. He had put her in a wheelchair at the ER entrance, called for an orderly, kissed her on the forehead, and walked away. A phone call to Hugh, and the money had been transfered into his account. The media had picked up the story, and he had made sure he was not part of it.
Today, he stood just out of sight, checking in on her one last time. She was sitting the swing of her back porch, wrapped in a blanket, bare feet pushing the swing, a mug of something hot in her hands. Her bruises were almost all gone, yet he could still see the shadows on her face.
What the hell; he had already broken his own rules anyway. Do the job; get paid; walk away. Don't go back...well, he was back.
He stepped into her line of view.
He watched her eyes widen, and the quick intake of her breath. Then, she smiled. Like the sun breaking free of a cloud, that smile warmed his shadowed heart, and he realized that was why he was standing in her back yard, disobeying his own edicts.
She quickly stood up, then regretted it, he could tell from her wince. She walked as fast as she could down the steps and to him, almost as if she was afraid he would disappear if she didn't get to him quick enough. Even moving more slowly because of the pain, it looked as if she was dancing...at least to him.
"I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered as she reached his side.
He shrugged. "You weren't supposed to."
"Then why did you step into my back yard? Not a very effective evasive maneuver there, Eliot."
He smiled. "I like the snarkiness; where did that come from?"
"It was masked by the pain." She smiled back. "Really, why are you here?" Her voice never rose above a whisper, as if talking would make him vanish.
He just smiled. He didn't have an answer.
Blue eyes stared into blue. Minutes passed, a dog barked, a car drove down the street.
"You can't stay, can you?" She asked.
"No. I've stayed too long already." He took her hand, rubbed the scar left from the brand. "This has healed up pretty well..." he clenched his teeth together at the memory of her lying on that floor. "The scar should fade in time," he whispered.
"I know," she covered his hand with her own. "How do I begin to thank you?"
"Ally..." he began.
"No, Eliot...how? You saved my life, but you lead me back from the fear. I know you were paid by Hugh, but how do I thank you?" She stepped a bit closer to him to search his face.
"Live. Chase your dreams, and find new ones while you do," he whispered. Blue into blue.
"I've got to go," he began to pull away, knowing that if he didn't leave now, he might not have the strength to go at all.
"I know," she whispered, holding tighter to his hand. "Wait." She stepped in. Stared hard. "You really are a good man, Eliot Spencer." She reached up, pulled his head down to hers, and gently kissed him. It rocked him on his heels.
Still did.
