Just a little drabble from Gail's POV, taking place from 4x09 and alternating from the canon slightly.
There's this lightness you feel when she's around.
You're not sure when you started to feel this way but you know this person is a blessing to your life. She has come to matter to you in ways you never thought anybody could.
This friendship is one you cherish, and sometimes you wonder whether to verbalise this fact, if only to show her you're serious – that for once in your life, something means everything to you, even when most things don't. But then you decide you're being silly, and that your friendship isn't exactly weighted on the sombre moments.
Rather, it's meaning derives from the lightness – this lightness you're feeling right now.
She's right here, and you can't believe it.
It sounds absurd because logically speaking, when you call someone and you request their presence, you will get either one of two answers – yes or no. And for some reason, your brain just won't comprehend she went for the former.
That she would readily agree, even without explanation.
And so as you leave the premise, faking some emergency to your date, your eyes lock onto this wonderful creature who has managed to swoop in and dismantle all of your preconceived notions—because Holly Stewart is special; she's become everything to you in such a short amount of time. And it worries you slightly, for that empathy and loyalty has grown so rapidly, and so have these butterflies adamant to explode within your stomach upon glancing at her lopsided (be it, bemused) grin. She opens the door for you as you walk toward it, and you cast an unruly glance back to your suitor at the table before exiting the restaurant in a huff.
"Bad date?"
You don't even need to answer, not when you're rolling your eyes and grumbling once again. Her eyes shine with comprehension as she tips her head to the side, a cute nod accompanying her acknowledgement.
"Ah, too bad."
You watch as she offers you a smile; one that's brimming with compassion, and you know that with anybody else right now you would promptly simmer and blow a fuse, but instead you deflate on the spot and glare at Holly, hoping that she will somehow telepathically feel your pain and just take control of the situation.
And she does.
With hands thrust into shallow pockets and eyes beaming bright, Holly deliberately presses her shoulder firmly against yours; bringing you two closer together in this moment.
"Right, let's get you out of here."
If possible, the lightness expands, spreading throughout your body until you feel content. It's a striking experience, and you're not sure whether it's normal or odd or appropriate:- yet it doesn't matter, because you're smiling (though you're working to quit that), and she's laughing with you and it just feels so right.
Spending time with someone, participating in a sport that you don't particularly care for wasn't exactly the night you signed up for – yet you're thankful for it - even when the someone in question is not the person you had in mind.
The someone is unexpected.
The someone is a person you admire and care for.
The someone is a friend that has forced you into this position, and yet you can't force yourself to be mad at her – how can you? Her mouth is stretching to accommodate the laughter, and you're squirming all over the place, mumbling like a fool.
And before you know it, she's all you can see.
The sounds of the batting cage elude you, shifting to background noise as you hone in on this incredible friend of yours. And suddenly you realise this brightness emits from her, and travels to you, and it's like she's sharing it with you.
And for a moment it chokes you, stirring you to depths you never knew were possible in this body of yours.
You never fathomed this.
It's a possibility that has only presented itself to you – for there is only one Holly, and she has arrived. She has arrived and, it may not be timely, and things may be chaotic, and you're not entirely sure what this means, but you feel it, know it to be true.
And how can you possibly deny such forces?
It's a gift you can't deny.
Except, you're a coward.
She's on a date, and you know you're crushing on her; you know you feel something more for her, and yet you say nothing.
Keep it to yourself, let it burn out.
Yet it only burns brighter – she is a light that cannot be extinguished.
Only she's sharing it with others now, and you feel cold. You're left on the outside, desperate for her warmth once more.
You're a coward, you think, as you take another shot.
You're a coward, you murmur, as you accept a double.
You're a coward, you realise, as you look over to her table to see them laughing once again.
You're a coward, you swallow, as you leave the tumbler and exit the premise.
The cold eclipses you tonight, and it's okay because the warmth has gone, and you're a coward; a coward that knows not how to behave in the face of uncertainty and instead chooses to run.
You watch the door close and exhale profoundly, unable to remove the frown from your face. They're taking Ollie and won't accept you on board, thus leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, and a swirl of bright lights in their tracks.
All you can do is watch as it disappears down the road, leaving you surrounded by units and people and your hand instinctively tugs at the velcro until your mobile is released and you turn your phone on.
You turn it on and receive a series of texts messages and missed calls.
For a moment you're confused as to why you've gotten them, only your mind eventually catches up; your subconscious in the know long before your able mind, and your thumb scrolls through the seemingly endless list in hope.
You can tell it's hope because your eyes immediately absorb Holly's name.
It registers like the heartbeat in your chest, affirming your status right here and now.
Only it lasts a moment before the guilt kicks in. You hadn't spoken since the night before, and you feel bad for the way you left things – though she's none of the wiser.
The hope eventually abates as the seconds tick by, for you remember that she is just a friend, and these messages are just an enforcement of this truth. It takes you a second to go through the messages. You're surprised by the volume as you sift through them, with your brain finally intact as you breathe every word on the screen.
After you finish reading them, noting the 2 missed calls from her, you send an apt reply:
I'm okay, nerd.
The second you lower your phone, it immediately buzzes, notifying you of an incoming text, and you draw it back up to your greedy eyes and open it to read:
I'll believe it when I see it with my own two eyes.
You feel the curl of your lips, no matter how much you fight it, and quickly tap out a response before heading for the nearest available vehicle:
On my way to the hospital (I repeat, I am fine) – see you there?
Your eyes trail over the speedy reply that you receive before you pocket the phone:
I best not find you in a hospital ward..
The words linger on your mind – only for the guilt you feel over the people who are, and don't belong there: Chloe, Oliver, and with what's transmitting over the radio, Sam, too.
You gulp down your fear and blink back the tears welling in your eyes, knowing that this is not the time or place for it.
"I swear to God, if somebody doesn't get me-"
"Gail!" You hear Chris call, and so you seek him out, eventually finding him standing by an empty squad car. And so you head for the passenger side, offering a curt nod as you climb in.
You don't expect to see her so soon, yet there she is, tumbling towards you like an unstoppable force. You're not sure what to do, and it quickly becomes apparent that Holly doesn't either, until her form stops abruptly in front of you.
Her eyes scan you, all of you, while her mouth opens. You can tell she's going to say stuff – quite a lot of stuff – and so instead of having it out here in front of your brother and Chris, you grab her wrist and draw her away from the copious prying eyes, intent on receiving a show.
She comes willingly, and a part of you finds comfort in that. You swipe your bottom lip with your tongue as you adjust your grip on her wrist, guiding her to a quiet corner, away from the uniforms thronging the area.
There's a plant and a stupid vending machine, but none of that matters - not even the cheese puffs which steal your attention momentarily.
You let go and twist around sharply to look at her.
And you see the way she's looking at you, all torn and confused and buzzed. It unnerves you; it unnerves you like the entire day has, yet for completely different reasons.
Her hands are moving, and her mouth is opening and there are words.
So. Many. Words.
But you can't focus on them.
Instead, you choose to concentrate on how she's saying them; watching as they part from her mouth at rapid speed, as if the faster she can expel them, the quicker you can grasp her point of view. But you're lost. You're so completely lost in how she's expressing herself, watching her dither on the spot helplessly, swaying and making you follow immediately in her tracks, intent on staying with her.
Because you feel it, this is a moment she's sharing with you – one that has befallen the both of you, and you want to grab it with both hands and hold onto it. You want to be smothered in the feels embracing you right now.
She's here. She's saying these words. She cares. And she is so desperate, that you can feel it crawling at your skin.
You need to kiss her, yet you stall.
You need to kiss her, but you breathe.
You need to kiss her, yet you watch her fray for just a second longer, because she's so goddamn beautiful, and she's falling apart and repairing herself with every glance sent your way. She's exposing herself; feverish in her vulnerability, and yet drawing strength with every impression she gets from you.
And you finally realise: you have been the light for her all of this time, like she has been the light for you.
You provide it for each other.
You shine together, bursting through the shadows to guide one another.
And it works. It works for you are both in it and it's a dual effort; it is a happenstance that occurs when two people collide and bring verve to something that could so readily have waned, if not fought for; if not realised in time.
So you need to kiss her, because you need for her to understand that the potential only has a finite amount of days, conversations and magnetism before it's gone forever.
It's a chance you refuse to let pass you by.
And so you kiss her.
You engulf her space, accepting her confusion and translate it for her.
And you know the second she comprehends your endeavour, for she ultimately responds, kissing you back with as much clarity as you have known for weeks now. It feels so right to feel her reach for you, to hold you tentatively as the tears leak from your eyes from the emotion that's been building up today.
You push through your embarrassment and press your lips harder against hers, your hands willing for her to remain, to stay.
And she does.
She continues to kiss you back, and you have never felt more safe and alive in your whole life. Delight has never tasted so sweet, and you can't help but go back for more, and more, and more.
Until oxygen becomes an issue.
She eventually breaks the kiss to trail her lips gently across your cheek, her thumbs and fingers not far behind as they swipe tenderly at your skin. It's so intimate, and you feel so wrecked, that all you can do is melt into her embrace.
Just dissolve within her light - which has been supporting you since you've known her, and that will assuredly act as a beacon for you tonight.
It's only as she guides you into a soft embrace filled with revived spirit that you find yourself hoping, praying it will last for as long as it possibly can.
And somehow, as she enfolds you, anything feels possible.