Kim had endured a lot over the past year or so. Every punch, kick, and stray bullet remained a ghost in her space, calling for deception when gentle touch came. Deep down, there was a part of her that believed no matter how much she pushed herself, or Adam, she would never take a hug, an attention-grabbing tap on the shoulder, the trace of a thumb across her cheek or the back of her hand… any physical contact that was dear to her, or just outright normal in human interaction, without repulsion, ever again.
"You shouldn't force yourself". That was a repeated quote from her therapist that frequently made the rounds in her mind, but was never really absorbed. The idea was that Kim would naturally warm up to things as she attended appointments, kept up with medication, and leaned on the people she trusted most in her life. Desensitization, or exposure therapy, felt more harmful than helpful, triggering night terrors and panic. There was enough danger alone in her being so persistent to work again, but if she could manage to make that a distraction, then so be it.
Adam, however, saw through her the way no one else did. Sometimes she put up walls to mask the vulnerability that others claimed would be her downfall. He knew there was nothing she despised more than feeling like she could not be trusted or believed in, or like she was weak and incapable. Even he knew he was guilty of pressing that anxiety on her, but it was never about lack of faith. Not for him, not for any of them.
Protecting Kim stemmed from being a witness to her innocence. Those who only knew her as she was now didn't hover over because they didn't know what the job had done to her. They never saw the fresh-faced patrol cop, who had eyes that glistened with excitement at the most minimal adventure. The former flight attendant that extended first-class courtesy to people that no one else dared to even speak to. The twenty-four year old with a heart so big that she could infinitely share it. They didn't see her before she gave and gave until she had nothing left for herself. Her unwavering loyalty would never die, but the price she paid for it was more than she could afford. She was in debt with fate, and it had taken away everything deemed due.
Though she felt as if she didn't deserve it for all the withdrawing she'd done, one thing still remained: Adam. Despite differences and challenges in their rather complicated relationship, there was nothing they wouldn't do for one another. That being said, it wouldn't be labeled this way if there wasn't some frequent hesitation or questioning behind motives, and Adam was surely asking a lot about Kim's state of mind right now.
There was a fine line between selfishness and selflessness, and he was walking it. On one side of it, he wanted to comfort Kim in any way he could. This meant giving in to all of her wishes and letting her go at her own desired pace, even as she raced to the finish line of healing with her shoes untied. What good would it do if she stumbled and rendered herself incapable of ever finishing, he thought, which led him to the arguably selfish side of things. Adam would never want to be a contributor to her suffering, but where could he compromise? Strictly abiding by selfishness would hurt them, even if it was for Kim's greater good. He would not be complicit in her self-blaming for any traumatic event, so he balanced himself no further than the point of not avoiding "exposure", or soft physical affection. It was a fair draw.
The guilt still turned his stomach over when she seemed startled by a gentle kiss on the cheek.
"Don't apologize." Kim mumbled, tugging the sheets tighter around her. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet, but somehow she had sensed his impending apology.
Adam was a bit taken aback by her intuition, but truly no one knew them the way they knew each other.
He studied her for a moment, basking in the senses that overcame him. She was beautiful, despite it being seven in the morning on a Monday with a rough, nightmarish rest behind her.
Golden sunlight slipped through the blinds and danced through her hair. He observed singular strands glowing lighter blonde and even shades of deep auburn when otherwise appearing dark. Of course, Adam had noticed this before. He knew everything there was to know about Kimberly Burgess. She only deserved someone who would take the time to learn and appreciate every glorious feature of her.
He couldn't understand how she managed to look so perfect all the time. Her skin was radiant, and he knew that was because she actually took good care of it… which, he also only knew because she pressured him to do the same. On occasion, he tried. God, he knew he'd do anything to make her happy. Yes, even cucumber facials and yoga in the living room. That happened more than he would ever care to admit.
Adam was drawn back in as he took in the scent of her. He recognized it as her favorite shampoo. Some high-priced-hair-strengthening-defrizzing-thing-he-didn't-understand that was naturally fragranced, or whatever, with rose water and lavender. In his defense, she had used the same thing from at least the time they'd met, but he could still confess that he knew more about her than he did himself.
"Happy Valentine's Day…" He whispered, easing them both back into reality and the day ahead.
Kim finally opened her eyes, nearly sucking him into distraction again as the sunlight highlighted flecks of honey in them. It reminded him of the good days. The good days back when those eyes didn't need the sun to show brightness in them.
A smile grew on her face, encouraging him to continue and preventing him from trailing down another road of resentment and worry.
Adam sat up before she could even respond, "I got something for you."
She pretended to be surprised. Every other year they found solace in Valentine's Day, whether it was meant as a platonic or romantic gesture. It was always a way of rekindling their flame when sparks had diminished under life's obstacles, and Adam always gifted flowers and chocolates.
Kim adored it, but there was a little voice in her mind wishing for something more personal as they aged and their relationship grew in maturity. After all, every year she made sure to personalize what she gave to him, even if it was something he needed, such as a nice new wallet or boots.
"No, no." He got up, holding a finger up as he headed out the bedroom door, "Wait there…"
This was unusual. Quite honestly, she expected a more subtle holiday than the previous years had provided. Adam never really knew how to communicate his admiration in materialistic gestures, and physicality was currently out of the question, so his excitement was actually alarming.
Kim sat up, resting her hand on her stomach. It was out of habit, and so easy to forget there was nothing there to give that attention to. Each time she did it, the events at and leading up to the motel would flash before her eyes, resurfacing those ghosts that grazed her skin and unstitching the seam patching over the empty space she now felt in her soul. It was the space she had saved for a family.
Adam stepped back in holding a gift bag, or… no. It was a Whole Foods brown bag, which made Kim snap out of it and raise a brow in suspicion.
"No. Don't look at the bag. I forgot to get one." He went over, sitting across from her on the bed and setting it in between them.
Kim just eyed it for a moment. Clearly she was skeptical, which made Adam nervous. He had never personalized the gifts for this holiday before beyond her favorite flavors or colors, simply because he was afraid of getting it wrong or disappointing her. At least flowers and candies were very typical for Valentine's. She couldn't be upset with that.
He held his hand out, stopping her from taking the bag, "It's not a Gucci belt… or… shoes or… probably anything that you'd like."
"I tried…" He finished, his voice breaking. All he wanted was to cheer her up, satisfy her, or even to just be the man she deserved so much. Now, in hindsight, his gift to her felt so silly and ridiculous. The embarrassment flushed his cheeks a shade of red it usually never met. Not Adam Ruzek, no. He exuded confidence, so much so that it crossed into a place of naive. Humility was something he could learn from, but he was certainly getting taught now.
Kim immediately caught on to how flustered he was, and she gently swatted his hand away and took the bag, "You're making me nervous, Adam… Why on Earth do you think I want- Nevermind."
He didn't reply, watching her behind anxious eyes and a painful biting hold on his lower lip, only contributing to Kim's growing nerves.
"You look like a puppy." She teased, leaning over to poke his cheek in attempt to ease the tension.
Before the moment could fade away, she bit the bullet and opened the bag.
At first there was some confusion as to what she was looking at. She pulled out what presented as a knitted scarf, poorly wrapped in tissue paper, but as it unfolded, it was revealed to be a sweater.
"I made it." He quickly began, justifying the noticeably poor quality and color scheme.
The sweater did have quite an interesting look to it. He'd chosen not one, but all of her favorite colors, creating a lavender primary with specs of pinks, blues, and greens painting a dotted pattern. Its redeeming quality was that he'd chosen the popular velvety yarn, which made it the softest thing Kim had probably ever touched.
It was clearly made by someone who had never knit in their life. One of the sleeves was a bit longer than the other, and overall, it was oversized.
"You made it?" Kim held it up, peeking over it to make eye contact with Adam.
He quickly looked away. He had blown it. The year he had needed to do the most, he failed miserably with a terribly crafted item that would turn to dust in the back of a closet. It wasn't that he took her as materialistic, just that she knew as much as he did what she was worth, and it wasn't the price of a shaggy mediocre sweater that could have been made by Firehouse 51's dog, Tuesday.
Kim laughed, but it wasn't taunting, it was actually in a childish, delighted manner. She got off the bed, holding the sweater up to her body and imagining herself in it.
Adam hadn't seen such excitement from her in a while now, and it really caught him off guard.
"Wait." She stopped, which made his heart drop in his chest, "You really made this? How?"
"I… took some class… You said you liked sweaters a lot and wished you had more… I don't know… I guess, last October."
As if the idea of a handmade sweater from Adam wasn't enough to make her spring into a lovesick frenzy, the fact that he took something she had said, probably in some random, casual conversation, and remembered it to personalize a gift months later, sent her overboard. She knew that their feelings for one another were unmatched, but she didn't take Adam as this type of romantic.
Kim quickly slipped the sweater on over her pajamas, letting out such an honest laugh as her head briefly got stuck at the neck that Adam thought he was going to keel over dead.
The reaction he was receiving was one he would've expected from Kim six years ago, not now. He understood why he wouldn't have that reaction, but time and time again, she proved him wrong.
The giggles of pure bliss reminded him of the good days again, but that could only mean that these, too, were the good days.
It was a reminder that the two of them had always overcome. Through trials and tribulations, there was always a way, as long as they were in it together.
"How do I look?" She struck a few poses, mimicking exaggerated fashion models to show off the whole style.
Adam stood up now, making his way around the bed to her, "Stunning… The way you always do… You could use a better sweater, though."
She swatted him again playfully, and nearly fell back in laughter, but he caught her with gentle arms around her waist and a pull in, "This is my favorite sweater already, you know?"
"You don't have to say that, Kim." He turned pink again, exposing his second wave of embarrassment.
"No, Adam. I'm serious. Are you kidding?" She pulled back to twirl again, "I'm wearing it to work."
"Oh- wait…" His eyes widened as he tried to take her hand, "You saw my skills, I don't think the team wants to."
"Ah-ah." She stepped back, wagging her finger at him, "It's my gift and I can do whatever I want with it, including showing it off… Does Kevin know? He's gonna love it. And, Trudy..."
Before he could catch her, she snatched up the rest of her clothes from the end of the bed, sprinting to the safety of the bathroom, where she could get ready without Adam's sneaky coercion and talking out of donning the sweater at the District.
He sat on the edge of the bed in defeat, but his heart still pounded in his chest at the thrill of this non-traditional Valentine's Day.
Their relationship had always been defined as complicated and with loose ends, even in their better times. Both of them had pinpointed the errors and faults in themselves and each other before anyone else even could. Perhaps they were trying too hard to be the societal standard of "perfect", though. Maybe they had let the outside pressures of the world crumble their genuinity without even realizing.
Kim and Adam would realize that they were actually a lot like the sweater. They were colorful and unique, and maybe they were a little uneven at times, but once they worked to put all the pieces together, something special was created. A needle of maturity could loop threads of experiences together into something, no matter what others might think, functional and beautiful.
As long as it took, they would heal together.