Thank you very much for the continued reviews. I actually feel really bad that I've gained more follows/favorites in the past couple of days...because this is the last chapter. I wrote this several years ago and am happy I was finally able to share it. I hope you enjoy this last chapter. 3
He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. And he felt guilty for having heard it. Eames wasn't one to express such emotions, but his way of behaving had made her lash out. Although such feelings only made her stronger in his eyes, he knew she felt as if she showed weakness. And all for what? For trying to show she cared about him? For trying to alleviate his pain? For trying to be a friend? She didn't deserve to be treated that way. And he decided it was his responsibility to break the stillness.
"Eames…" he said softly, nearly a whisper. She shifted slightly but didn't look up. He took a deep breath and moved in closer. "Eames, I'm sorry. I know you're trying to do is help. And I've been a jerk."
"Yeah, you have," she said, turning her head to face him.
"…It's hard…for me…to talk to people about these things." He took a pause. "But that's…that's no excuse."
She was slightly nodding her head. "No, it's not… But I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have laid all that on you. Let's forget I ever said it, all right?"
Shaking his head, he flashed her concerned eyes. "No, I'm not going to forget. And you shouldn't, either. You deserve to talk about it. It's not right that you were left feeling that way without a second thought from anyone else. And I never wanted to make you talk about something you didn't want to talk about; that's why I let you lead the conversations when I'd come to visit. You don't know how amazing you are for what you did for your sister. Y'know…you and I are a lot alike. We're always afraid we're going to appear weak. But you're not weak…"
He sat still for a few seconds, causing her to give him a concerned look. Then, he began to speak, slowly. "…I went to see my mother today. I went not long after you left. At first she was having a good day, it was too good to be true… And it was."
Detailing what'd happened was a slow and difficult process, even with leaving out the smallest details. Every sentence wasn't crucial, and she didn't need to be burdened with every aspect of his day. But he told her the big things, the things that hurt the most; how Frank was the good son, how he was just like his father, how he was single and not getting any younger. She didn't need to know about the things that were said about her, about the two of them together. They would only make her uncomfortable, as they did him. And she certainly didn't need to know that for a fleeting moment during it all…he wished for the same thing as his mother. For just one moment, he wished she could be everything to him that his mother and Esther wanted her to be.
"Bobby…" was all she could manage in the shock of it all. "I'm so sorry. I know that's not what you want to hear, but I'm sorry. I can't imagine… You're not just a hero on the job, are you?"
"Eames," he said in a dismissive way.
"No, I mean it, and you're gonna take it, damnit. You told me I'm amazing, and you can take the compliment in return. You don't know how rare that is, someone like you. And to be that kind of person through everything you've gone through… It takes a special kind of person." She was resting her hand on his leg, nodding in turn with her words.
"Thank you…" he said with a sheepish smile, blushing and trying to keep the compliment; she'd surely hit him if he didn't. "But that'll be our little secret."
Several hours had passed as they sat on the couch together, sharing a drink and watching random TV. At her insistence, they hung onto the rest of the holiday together by watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. They'd talked some about her experiences with her nephew and how she dealt with the aftermath, most of which he'd suspected at the time. Candid conversation between friends. He leaned back on the couch as she nestled close to him, her head on his shoulder, covered up by a warm blanket. It was the best Thanksgiving he'd had in a long time, blocking out the hours that led up to her arrival. And he suspected she was equally pleased by the turn of events the night had taken. As it neared 10pm , just when he thought she may've fallen asleep, she sat up with a yawn.
"I think it's about time I get home. The alarm clock will be going off before I know it."
With slight hesitation, he offered "Why don't you just say here tonight? The couch is pretty comfortable. Or you could take the bed and I'll stay out here."
"I don't think you could squish yourself onto this couch, Goren. And as tempting as that sounds, I'm not sleeping in a skirt. But I appreciate the offer. Maybe next time."
He smiled at that, the thought of there being a next time. He'd been to her apartment plenty of times, but she'd only been here a handful. He rather enjoyed the company; her company, at that. It had been strangely comforting to an extent to unburden himself, though he didn't intend to make a habit of it. In a way, it had more so been for her that he'd said so much; after all she'd voiced to him, she deserved equal openness. He also felt slightly tarnished in the aberrance of actually speaking about his situation and his feelings about it all. But…what was said had been said, and he had to take comfort in knowing Eames was the person to which he could trust his secrets.
"Thank you for making this a real holiday, Eames. It's been a long time."
With a slightly devilish grin, "Well if you'd come to my parents' for Christmas, you can see just how much of a holiday we Irish Catholics can make. Think about it, will you?" He nodded. At that, she got up and grabbed her coat, pulling it on quickly to replace the blanket. "For Christmas I'll be wearing pants; my legs are freezing!"
He began folding the blanket as she rummaged through her purse for her keys. Finding them, she walked towards the door. Swiftly, he followed.
"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning," she said with a smile. He nodded. "Thank you for having me; tonight really meant a lot." They exchanged a few moments' worth of more end-of-the-evening small talk before he opened the door for her.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Bobby," she said as she reached up to hug him.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Alex," he said softly as he held her close. It was so rare he hugged her and just as rare he called her by her first name. Every once and awhile the moment merited it, though he used her last name with the same affection.
Pulling out of the hug, she reached up and kissed his lips gently for just a moment. Taken by surprise, he laughed and eyed her incredulously.
"Shake it off, big boy, it's just a goodnight kiss between friends," she smirked. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Eames," he mustered as she walked through the door and pulled it shut from the other side. He touched his lips and laughed under his breath, having a flashback to his earlier dream.
Shake if off, big boy, she'd said under the control of his subconscious; it seemed he truly knew her quite well, indeed. And with that, he returned his cigarettes and Glenlivet to their rightful places; out of sight, out of mind. But the Polaroid remained where it lay all night: on the coffee table, staring back at him, making him smile. He gave it one last look before retreating to his bedroom, believing tonight he may actually be able to sleep longer than a few hours. It'd been a long day, but a day well worth it in the end.
On this Thanksgiving, though he had less to be thankful for than some, he had more to be thankful for than others. But more so than anything, he was thankful for her. And that was more than enough.
