A/N: I never addressed it, but like in season four of Ghost Whisperer Jim does get shot, he just doesn't die. Melinda's had a tormented year or so that she needs to let go... enjoy xx Mariah
Every night brought a new horror, vivid images of Shane closing in on her, or Jim slowly dying underneath her. The look in his eyes when she reached him after he was shot, closing his eyes as life started to abandon him. Thank god, it didn't.
Sometimes it's Andrea, turning around and smiling at her, and the next moment she's gone, taken away from her like her and Jim's child. She sees them all in her nightmares, and Melinda doesn't know what's worse; to see them dead or alive, to be reminded of the reality or fooled by fleeting moments of happiness that only exist in few select moments.
"Jim," she whispered as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, her heart painfully colliding against the walls of her chest. She lifted a hand to her face, brushing away some stray curls sticking to her slick forehead, her entire body covered with sweat after her nightmare. "Jim," she repeated, fear edging in her tone when the arms that used to protect her and ward off the nightmares don't wrap immediately around her. "Jim, where are you?" She turned, reaching out with her arms to feel him, grab him, tuck herself in his arms and never let go.
Instead, her fingers only clench around thin air and then the cold sheets. The spot beside her in bed was cold and empty.
She was up on her feet in no time, her body moving on its own volition, guided by dread and instinct. She had to move, she had to find him. Losing him, too, was not an option. She almost lost him a month ago. She wasn't going to lose him again.
She called out his name once, twice, again and again as she went down the stairs, hoping to find him in the kitchen, cooking something, smiling at her as he'd reveal a tray of some delicious food. Instead, Jim was not there. The house was empty and silent, still asleep as the sun hadn't even risen yet. It's too early, even for him. He was on leave until he could pass his physical after being shot.
She's running to the house phone, dialing his number that she's known for the last six years. When he didn't know, she didn't know what to think. Where could he have gone? Why wouldn't he have left her a note?
She called him again and again. He never answered, and that's when it finally dawned on her, the sheer horror of the reality – that's when she decided that reality, even if it hurts, even if it makes it impossible to breathe, was always better than her dreams.
Because in her dreams, he was dying. But the truth was, he's not. He could probably be on a morning run right now, safe and sound.
Jim came through the door moments later and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Where were you?" She asked.
"I went for a run," his shirt had several sweat stains, that was a given. "I didn't think you'd wake before I came back."
"I had a nightmare," she whispered. "And you were gone." She didn't care if he'd just came back from a run, she hugged him anyway, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "I'm so glad you're back."
His hard muscles were showing under his slightly too tight shirt as she pulled back. "I'm sorry. I'm here now," he smiled, cupping her cheek.
She somehow felt better, just by feeling him touch her face. "How was your run?" She asked, leaning against the kitchen island.
"Good," he replied with a smile. "I meant to leave you a note, but I ended up doing something else instead."
"It's okay," she said, turning around to open the fridge. She pulled out the carton of eggs and bacon.
"I really am sorry. Let me go wash my hands and I'll help you with that," he replied nodding at the breakfast food.
She grabbed his wrist gently as he turned, and Jim frowned just a little. "No, no, it's okay. You should go take a shower, and I'll fix you something to eat in the meantime. Okay? I'll bring it upstairs."
He grinned. There's just something about a domestic Melinda that had always been entirely too endearing. "Okay," he added, and before he could overthink it, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Ever since the accident they'd been trying to abstain from anything too sexual per the doctor's orders. Melinda looked up at him, wide eyes and bright smile, and he almost kept kissing her. Instead, he gave her another light peck and then walked to the stairs and up to the bathroom.
Melinda lifted her hand to her cheek, and she felt her heated skin; she definitely liked that warmth.
She made him some eggs and bacon; it's too early for lunch, but she's not as good a cook as he was. She could make something substantial, like a crock-pot meal or follow directions to make a casserole, but it's too early to do any of that. She brought a plate over and moved the food onto a plate, pouring him a glass of orange juice before going to bring it upstairs.
She smelled his shampoo before she even came into the bathroom, leaving the drink and food on the side table for him before going closer to him. She thinks she'll always love the scent of pine because of him. Jim hummed as he scrubbed under his hands and down over his chest before he shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. He met his wife with a smile as she handed a towel and greeted him with a warm, sensual kiss.
He pulled back and smiled at her, and she knew that he had the most beautiful smile she'd ever seen. "The food smells good," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
She wondered when sweet nothings started making her blush.
And then she realized that change didn't necessarily have to be bad.
It was late that night when Jim woke to find Melinda gone.
He didn't know what to think. She hadn't said anything about a ghost lately. She hadn't even mentioned anything about a nightmare that didn't involve him lately.
He pushed up and out of bed, moving toward the bathroom first. When he saw it was dark and empty, he went into the hallway. He could see that there was a fire lit in the fireplace and downstairs and quickly jogged down them.
"Melinda?" Jim hesitated on the last step, one hand on the railing, the other at his side. "Everything okay?"
She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "I'm fine. I couldn't sleep," she told him, her voice only wavering slightly. "I thought I'd come read down by the fire," Turning back to her book as she closed it, she shivered. The play of light and shadows across her bare neck created an illusion of warmth that Jim knew she didn't feel. "You didn't need to come down."
"I was worried," he said as he crossed the room in a few short strides and reached for her, his fingertips racing over her arm. She's come a long way in the year since Shane, but this was a difficult time, as he's well aware. When he was shot, he knew she was unable to catch her breath until he was awake again.
To her credit, she didn't ask why or tell him that he shouldn't be. "So was I. I woke up this morning because I was so worried." She said.
"About what?" He asked and sat down beside her.
Melinda shook her head and let out a long breath. Tonight, it seemed, talking wasn't helpful. She turned to him. "Dinner was wonderful," she said.
"Really?" He chuckled, remembering the juicy pot roast he'd made with potatoes and corn for sides. "It was just something quick."
"I think that still counts as a job well done, sweetheart." She smiled.
"Maybe," he allowed.
Melinda shivered again, and he pulled out the blanket that sat on top of the couch behind them. He noticed the goosebumps that went up her bare arms, for that she was wearing a nightgown. She took the blanket and wrapped it around herself, hugging it close. Her eyes lingered on his face, the brown taking on the color of warm honey. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, really," he said, "You just are beautiful."
"Oh." She blinked, her face flushing in the fire "You're too kind." She smiled slowly, late-night weariness softening her face. "I'm glad you came down," she said, settling in next t him and resting her head on his shoulder. "Will you stay with me for a minute?"
He moved his arm to wrap it around her and pressed a kiss to her hair. "We can sit here as long as you want."
Melinda wrapped her hand around his arm, feeling the warmth through his thin shirt, and she felt a little bit of pain let go.