Tim had no idea what the fuck he was doing. In the beginning, it had seemed like a good idea, but now, standing here faced with the closed door, he wasn't sure what he had been thinking. He couldn't recall a time when he'd ever been so nervous. Not over in Afghanistan when he'd still been in the army facing an unseen enemy. But right now, he was fucking terrified for the first time in his life.
Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. Which was why he had kept putting it off each time the subject came to mind. Part of him would have preferred to run into oncoming fire. At least with that he would have known what to expect.
He'd been back for six months, though he didn't have the courage to see her just once. The first few months he'd spent trying to recover from the injury he'd ended up with when the building blew up. Eventually, that became an excuse he could no longer use. Instead, his excuse became that she deserved better. Since his return, he had ended up with PTSD, making sleeping impossible, and functioning on a normally level difficult.
Afghanistan had fucked with his brain on a level that most people couldn't begin to understand. After being over there for so long… people did change. They became someone else… something else. A harder person than what they had been before they left. He kept telling himself that Darcy didn't need to have to put up with him waking up screaming in the middle of the night. She didn't need to watch him with one of his episodes.
But Tim knew all of that was still simply just an excuse. Truth was, Darcy would have made his return a lot easier. He was simply just afraid that he'd fuck up the only woman he loved. So he'd made the decision to get himself back together before he came to see her.
And now here he was, standing on her porch, half hesitating to knock on her door. He didn't know what her reaction would be like, considering he had just vanished without even saying goodbye. Hell, he'd understand if she told him to go get fucked.
Deciding he couldn't put it off any longer, he raised his hand and knocked. His boots scuffed lightly against the timber as he waited for her to answer. Time flickered past slowly, and he raised his hand to knock once more before he heard the creak of the door opening.
The moment she came into sight, Tim forgot how to breathe. She was beautiful, the photos she had sent him not doing her justice. He hadn't realised how tall she was, but he thought it suited her. She seemed to be staring at him, frozen to her spot. His hand dropped back down to his side, realising he was still holding it up, flashing a crooked smile in her direction.
""Are you going to invite me in or are you just going to make me stand out here all day?" he asked, watching as she snapped out of her trance. She then proceeded throw her arms around him, catching him off guard, before she finally invited him inside.
"So what happened to you?" she asked him, staring at the soldier across the table, a look of hurt in her brown eyes. Guilt welled up inside of him and the pendant in his pocket burned as a constant reminder of what he had done. "You just disappeared on me Tim."
This was the part he had been dreading the most when he made the decision to finally see her. Trying to explain wasn't something he was looking forward to. But after the shit he pulled, he figured he owed her that much. He just wasn't sure how the fuck he was supposed to explain it.
"I always told them you deserved someone better than me," he began, watching as her eyes narrowed at him, clearly not believing a word of what he was saying. "On that last patrol, a fucking building blew up on me. I spent three months in a hospital, which still isn't any excuse for not writing. After that, I don't know. I guess I couldn't face you. Not the way I was. Fuck, I spend more time having goddamn fucking episodes. I dragged you through enough shit when I was over there. Thought it would be best I didn't drag you through any more."
"That's your explanation?" she asked, incredulous and slightly angry. "Are you fucking kidding me? Tim, what you went through, you didn't have to face it alone. For fuck's sake, you didn't drag me through anything that I didn't want to go through. I was there with you because I wanted to be. Because I love you, fuck you. I spent the last six months thinking I'd lost you, that you had fucking died over there. Do you have any idea what that feels like, not knowing?"
Her tirade effectively shut him up from what he was about to say. He stared at her, pretty sure his mouth was hanging open as she spoke those words. Her cheeks were flushed, in what he was convinced was
anger, but he couldn't bring himself to move past what she had said, knowing he had really fucked up this time.
She loved him. All this time and neither of them had said a damn thing about it. That wasn't entirely true. She had told him, when she thought he wasn't listening, but she had still told him. Not just with her words, but her actions. She stuck by him through all the shot because she loved him. Just like he'd been told. Only he'd never thought she could love someone like him. Someone who wasn't quite perfect, who was a little more than a bit broken.
"Darcy…" he started, then stopped as he realised he had no idea what he was saying. His mind was a jumbled mess, trying to sort through everything she had just told him. He didn't have the right words for her, he never did. She gave him a soft smile, telling him she understood.
She reached out towards him then, her fingers gently brushing against the back of his hand, and Tim felt his entire world come to a halt. His eyes locked onto hers, to find she was already staring at him, that smile still on her face. Forgiveness, he realised with a sudden jolt. After everything he'd put her through, she still somehow managed to fucking forgive him.
"I know," she told him softly, her fingers running along the back of his hand. "I think I've always known. You may not have said it, Tim, but you showed me, more often than not. You trusted me with things that you had gone through over there, you let me into your life when most people couldn't get past your walls. You might not have understood, but I did. I guess that's why it hurt so much when I thought you were gone."
That haunted look was back in her eyes, and Tim felt his heart wrenching, knowing he was the cause of it. When he had needed her, she'd always been there for him. But he hadn't been there for her. All because the very thought of it all scared the living shit out of him.
"I think I did know Darcy," he told her quietly. "It took me a while and it took someone else to point it out to me in the beginning. But I knew I loved you. It was hard not to when you were one of the few people who actually accepted me for who I was. Shit, you were the reason I didn't lose my fucking mind over there."
He withdrew one hand from hers then, reaching into his shirt pocket, and pulled something out. Reaching back across the table, he took Darcy's free hand, dropping the pendant onto her palm. A look of surprise crossed over her face as she stared down at the pendant he had given her, before her eyes flicked back up to meet his.
"I've been meaning to give you that for a while now," he admitted to her with a rueful grin, figuring he probably should have sent it in the mail. "I got it for you back over in Afghanistan. I just never sent it. It was something I wanted to give you in person. Though I never really got around to it before now."
Her chair skidded back as she found herself on her feet, sidestepping around the table as she pulled him up as well. Her arms went around his neck, and Tim found this time he wasn't as shocked. Instead, he felt his own arms wrap around her slender waist as she hugged him. She was soft to the touch, and fit as if she had been made just for him. And when she pulled back just slightly so that she could look at him with those brown doe eyes, Tim couldn't stop himself.
He closed the small space between them, his lips brushing lightly against hers at first. He felt her hands tangle in his hair, pulling him as close as she possible could, and his tongue darted out, running against her bottom lip. A low whimper escaped from the back of her throat as her mouth parted and his tongue was inside her mouth, tasting, teasing, entwining with hers.
Craving flooded through him instantly, burning like fire through his veins, making though near impossible. His own hands had gripped her by the waist, his fingers digging against her soft skin harder than he had intended, though she didn't once protest.
He caught her as her legs gave out, her back arched under the touch of his hands, before he lifted her up and set her down on the table. He felt her legs part slightly, and he stepped between them, pulling her hips forward against his as he kissed her, deep, slow and hot. His free hand moved up along her body, enticing a moan from the brunette.
Her legs wrapped around him, pressing herself closer to the sniper, causing him to harden further than he already had. He felt his insides melt the moment her hands found their way under his shirt, running up along his back, nails lightly dragging across his skin.
For once, he forgot about the scars he carried, everything slipping away at the touch of her hands. His mouth moved down along her neck, teasing as he left behind marks on her skin, his teeth grazing the top of her breast, hearing as her breath caught in her throat.
He wanted her, all of her. He wanted to taste her, to see her writhing under him in pleasure, to hear her screaming his name. But he hadn't come here for that. And it was with considerable reluctance that he pulled away from Darcy.
As he pulled away, he couldn't stop from noticing how beautiful she really was. Her lips were swollen, eyes half closed, her hair tangled from where his hands had been. He nearly lost every ounce of control he had but managed to pull himself to a halt in time.
And as her eyes opened in confusion when his hands left her, Tim shook his head slightly, letting her know that she had done nothing wrong. How could she when everything about her was fucking perfect to him.
"Sorry," he told her. "I didn't mean…. I want to do this properly Darcy. After the shit I pulled, you deserve that much. Not just a quick roll around in the sheets. You mean more to me than that. I'm going to do this the way I was supposed to in the first fucking place."
A smile had appeared on her face at his words and when he had finished, she was laughing, crystal bell like peals of laughter. He hadn't been sure what he had said that was so funny, but when she slipped off the table, and brushed her lips against her ear, whispering that she already knew that, he finally understood. His mouth found hers again, as demanding as before, and she met him with equal fervour. They never made it to the bedroom.