100-fic Prompt: 020. Colourless
Standing on the platform, watching you go
It's like no other pain I've ever known
To love someone so much, to have no control
You said, "I wanna see the world," and I said, "Go."
"Lost Without You" by Freya Ridings
standing on the platform
The house in Arthur Street was full of life. In front, the little fenced-in garden was well-kept and flush with the flowers of spring. Scattered toys lay here and there, with its owners running around in circles nearby, peals of laughter echoing down the street to where Tessa sat listening through a rolled-down car window.
She smiled at the display. It was good to see the house come into its own. For so many years, it'd looked as rundown and beaten as its neighbours. Thanks to the TLC its previous occupant had given it, though, as well as the soul of the family now living within, the house had become a home. It deserved that.
"My brother's got kids like that. Ungodly high energy levels."
Tessa's smile waned, replaced by a sigh as she pulled her gaze back to a different house closer to their unmarked police car.
"You have any?" Next to her, her latest partner sipped his third cup of take-away coffee, hissing beneath his breath at its apparent heat. "Nieces or nephews, I mean."
"No," Tessa said.
She didn't elaborate; she rarely did these days. Not because she didn't like Detective Senior Constable Chris Myers, because she did. He was as capable as anyone, with a calm, quiet personality that didn't rub people the wrong way, and years of experience to boot. It's just that he also happened to be the latest addition in a long list of people to which Thorne had tried to partner her, and she was tired of playing the same song-and-dance in the hopes that this might be the one that'd stick.
Her gaze trailed back to Steve's old house. Not for the first time, she wondered if that's how he'd been thinking about herwhen they'd first been partnered. She wasn't ignorant, after all. If it hadn't been for some sort of sheer-headed stubbornness and sense of professionalism on both their parts, with a copious amount of threats from Thorne to fix it and get to work, they'd have been partnered up with someone else within six months.
The funny thing was that now, when she actually wasn't being obnoxious and pigheaded, she went through as many partners as most officers did through cups of coffee on an all-nighter stakeout. The salience of that fact had seen her pulled into Thorne's office on a near weekly basis lately, with his previous fix it and get to work changed to it's not you, it's just not working out.
Tessa had stopped laughing about the absurdity of that. What were the odds, after all? Six months and nearly as many partners, some of which hadn't even lasted a week? Even if Thorne claimed otherwise, it had to be her. Otherwise, she might just have to start believing in some preordained plan in which control was as far from her grasp as any understanding of the sense of disconnect that coloured every moment of her present.
"You okay, Vance?"
Blinking her eyes, Tessa once more shifted her gaze to the house duty dictated she observe. In the corner of her eye, though, she could see Myers stare at her. It made her stiffen, recalling the question he'd just asked, and say with a dismissive snort, "Yeah."
Neither of them spoke much after that.
"She's like a ghost," Dee said beneath her breath, showing for once some tact in the face of the crowded bar populated by mostly Police HQ personnel. "Didn't even get a rise out of her today when I messed up their whiteboard. She just sat there…staring. Bloody unnerving, it was."
Tootsie listened to this tale with an ache in her chest. Nothing which Dee had told her until now was breaking news, but the continued confirmation of status quo felt like another nail to a coffin she hated to acknowledge. She sighed and swirled her glass of Shiraz red.
"I just can't understand it," Dee continued, now taking a swig of her beer and snorting with something akin to derision. "She used to be this pants-on-fire badass, and now she's just… I dunno, a shadow, I guess? I mean, it's been months. Shouldn't she get over it by now?"
Tootsie stared at her, recognising the I have indicated in Dee's tone. And while it might be true Dee had recovered from the shock of Steve leaving the police force and Sydney behind — or at least true on the surface — Tootsie wasn't sure the constable had ever caught on to what'd never been said between him and Tessa.
To be fair, she wasn't sure she had fully caught on, as Tessa hadn't explicitly confirmed her suspicions one way or another. But she'd admit there was this feeling that never strayed whenever the topic of Tessa's current state of mind came into the conversation. Like some niggling irritant, it squirmed within, seeking purchase and absolution as the only logical explanation to otherwise illogical observations.
"At least Myers's good fun," Dee mumbled.
Tootsie smiled. "I hear he's single."
"Oh come off it!" Dee snorted. "It's not like that!"
But the red tinge in her cheeks suggested that yes, it was exactly like that. So Tootsie laughed and felt some of the tension ease in her shoulders.
"Why not?" Tootsie winked at her. "You're the same age. Enjoy the same things." At this, she gestured to the pool table, where Myers was embroiled in a match against one of his former colleagues in Tech Squad. He looked to be winning by a mile. "Go on. Buy him a drink."
After more spluttered displays of denial and violent, uncharacteristic blushes, Dee did exactly that.
Grinning, Tootsie watched the two of them until Fisk returned from the long line at the bar with their second pair of drinks. She thanked him and exchanged her empty wine glass for the new one, then settled to observe Dee and Myers's antics by the pool table. Despite the constable's earlier reservations, she certainly showed none when interacting with the young detective.
"I think it's time," Tootsie told Fisk without any additional context. He followed her gaze and then glanced back at her, understanding nevertheless that this wasn't about the turtledoves in front of them. She smiled at him. "You have his new number?"
With ease, Fisk pulled out a post-it note from his wallet and handed it to her.
Tootsie input the digits on her phone, then sent off a text message with words she'd deliberated on how to say for a long time. She just hoped there'd be a favourable response; that she wasn't interfering in a process best left to its own momentum.
A minute later, her phone rang.
Another night gone.
Lying in bed, Tessa wasn't above recognising that she could hardly discern this night from any other night. Nothing of note had happened. No routine had been broken. There'd been a time when that'd happened on a regular basis, but apart from the weeks she'd been on call, there'd been little else.
There was no point complaining about this, though. Without any disruptions, she could do exactly what she wanted. Power through library books on topics others outside the field of interest would find morbid. Rock climb all night at the nearby gym. Listen to classical music and ponder all the regrets she'd once had for not pursuing a musical career. Ignore entire calls from her mum — or at least the comments addressing Tessa's perceived shortcomings in life.
Exhaling deeply, Tessa stared at the display of dancing shadows on her ceiling.
Was she…lacking in some regard? She had the life she'd wanted: a challenging yet rewarding job, a place to call her own, and no one she'd be forced to make concessions to just for the sake of maintaining peace and quiet in her own home. So…she should be happy, right?
Are you?
Am I?
Tessa sighed and turned onto her side. More shadows danced upon the cream-coloured curtains; courtesy of the tree branches reaching even as high as her apartment floor. More than five years ago, after Mumm's home invasion, she'd jumped at those very shadows. She'd spent hour upon hour trying not to think about them, only to do exactly that.
'You're okay, sweetheart. You're safe. You're all right.'
Those words… Those were Steve's. First yelled, then spoken, and finally whispered into her hair as he held her tightly outside this apartment building. Even now, the memory of them made something in her tighten and flush.
Some irrational part of her still felt embarrassed that he'd seen her like…that. Like some scared, hysterical little thing — some damsel in distress — that'd needed someone to do exactly what he'd done in that moment. She'd always prided herself on staying strong, after all. An independent modern woman capable of fighting her own battles: that's how she saw herself.
'Come here… It's okay.'
Tessa squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into the pillow. What was this…? A stroll down memory lane? First the aftermath of Mumm, then of Gunther. What'd be next on the torture roll…?
Nose pressed against the crook of her neck. Arms tight around her body. Gentle hand in her hair. An extra tight squeeze, and then—
A terrible sense of loss came over her, as clear as the day she'd felt it last.
It came so sudden that warmth left and cold moved in as if she'd been drenched from the inside. Tessa felt every muscle clench in response, legs curling into a foetal position as fingertips dug into the duvet — as if it'd somehow preserve what little heat remained.
No…!
She would not cry. Not anymore. Not for this. The tears wouldn't amount to anything; wouldn't clear up any confusions or doubts. All they'd do was make her feel worse than this, and that—that was—
The phone rang.
Startled, Tessa rolled around on automatic until she could see the cell phone screen flashing bright in the darkness. It cast the rest of the room and its items in a bluish light, but her vision ignored that in favour of the number above the red and green answer buttons.
Unfamiliar number.
At 00:39 AM.
No one except work called her at this hour. Could of course be a prank caller, a hang-up or the wrong number, but… Instinct made her grab the phone and press it to her ear, welcoming the familiar anticipation and sobriety to which she faced potential work calls.
"Tessa Vance," she said.
There was a chuckle — a sudden, bone-deep, all-too-familiar sound that jerked the ground away from her and sent her reeling — and then his voice followed in all its intimate, late-night timbre.
"What's the matter? Would've thought you'd call by now…"
Rolling countryside, winding roads, grazing herds…but most of all: air. Entire gulfs of it. Fresh, clean and untainted by asphalt, dust and exhaust. Scented instead with the multifaceted fragrance of nature, cattle, and tractor oil unique to this part of his world.
Even from up here on the cliff, with the impossibly green vista before him and a cool breeze in his face, Steve felt the scents linger in his nostrils. Breathing them in, smells and sights alike, brought the new normal to his face: an unburdened smile.
This. This was what he'd missed all those years in Sydney. The unattainable dream of his youth, when life was simpler and didn't include witnessing the horrors and fragility of man on a daily basis. When the answer to most problems went through hard physical labour and the delicious endorphin rushes that followed.
Right now, this was all he needed. A chance to slow down, take in the world, find balance within…and maybe — maybe — all else would follow.
Steve shifted his gaze to the person next to him, smile waning.
Since her arrival a few days ago, Tessa had worn her smiles like an armour. To anyone who didn't know her or the circumstances that'd led to her current vacation stay, she'd been a good sport, seemingly at ease with all the strangeness and new faces that surrounded her. He'd caught the moments in-between, though, when no one else was looking. Like now, they made his heart ache.
"So," he said quietly, leaning a little closer to nudge her shoulder with his. "What'd you think?"
Tessa blinked her eyes, the thousand-yard stare sharpening into renewed focus as it snapped to his for a second. "Sorry?"
Steve offered a small smile while he nodded to the vista before them. "What'd you think?"
A red flush tinged Tessa's cheeks and she ducked her head awkwardly before looking up as if trying to spot the answer to a teacher's question. For some reason, it made Steve chuckle and shake his head. At least this past year hadn't changed that aspect about her.
"Not too bad, is it?" He pushed his hands into his jeans pockets and scuffed the tip of his shoe into some pebbles on the ground. He viewed the rolling landscape again, taking in the pastures, spring creeks and trees stretched out before them beneath the cliffside like a wide, encompassing sea. "Even without the dead bodies."
There was a short chuckle and Steve's smile widened, appreciating the sound and the fact that she'd caught the allusion even three years on from its birth. Part of him had been a bit worried, to be honest. This past year…it hadn't shown them at their best.
Him least of all.
"It's nice," Tessa said. Smiling, she breathed in for a long moment, eyes softening as her gaze refocused on the scenery. "Looks like you've found your dream home…farm boy."
Another reference, to which Steve laughed and felt a familiar warmth somewhere in the centre of his chest. "Yeah."
"Good. You…" The sudden hesitance had him turn sideways to see Tessa tuck a piece of her lower lip between her teeth, her voice thickening as she added, "You deserve it."
And just like that, the warmth within was dispelled — like so many times before in this past month, but these past few days in particular. Steve glanced down to where his foot kicked loose rocks over the side of the cliff face.
"How about you?" His voice was quiet, his gut churning with an old, familiar guilt. "Still living 'firmly in the present'?"
There was no immediate response. Not that he'd really expected one. Even without Tootsie's description of the perceived status quo, he could see for himself the evidence of whatever change Tessa had undergone since he'd seen her seven months ago, and that a month's worth of phone calls and messages had also hinted at. The woman before him wasn't the same woman he'd once considered his closest friend.
He guessed he was to blame in that.
"I…" Tessa's voice cut short.
Steve looked up to watch her glazed eyes crumple into pained, silent and unshed tears, her throat struggling with the words seeking liberty. But she didn't need to admit the simple "No" before something twisted inside him and made him ache from his gut to his throat.
Nor did he need the way Tessa curled forward and inward to feel the precipice of the nearby cliff more acutely than before, and to mould her tight to his chest with an overpowering sense that he'd just done the right thing.
"It's all right," Steve whispered into her hair and squeezed her tighter for each tremble that coursed through her body. "You'll be all right, Tess."
This, too, shall pass.
Day by day, moment by moment, breath by breath…
Air.
Tessa could understand the attraction now. As the canopied patio swing swayed back and forth, its gentle rocking lulling, she felt the unburdened way her lungs drew in and exhaled air that filled her entire body in long, slow, controlled motions.
In… Somewhere in their allotted corner of the Hayden homestead, honey bees buzzed in a near-constant stream of white noise.
Out… Elsewhere, muted sounds of voices, laughs and cries were carried on the soft breeze; revealing the existence of the homestead's human inhabitants.
In… That same breeze caressed her warm, prickling skin with cool gentleness; easing the burn from being out in the sun all day for days on end, partaking in whatever hard work offered her.
Out… The aches and tiredness in her muscles was easing breath by breath, replaced instead with a heady, encompassing sense of peace she'd not known in…she didn't know how long.
In… Opening her eyes, Tessa took in the view around her. The colourful garden beset with elongating shadows and reddish hues from a waning sunset in the distance, yet still bursting with life wherever she looked. The two-storied house nearby with a screened deck wrapped around two thirds of its walls, full of light and life and age, and—
And Steve, coming down through the garden to sit next to her on the patio swing, drinks in hand.
"Here," he said.
Tessa smiled and accepted his offer of freshly made, iced orange juice. The cold fruitiness rippled out through her oesophagus and trickled into every extremity on the way down. She sighed happily. "Thanks."
With a soft smile of his own, Steve drank and then rested his head upon the high-backed seat cushions. Tessa followed his gaze to where the sky was at its darkest, dotted already with the promise of thousands of twinkling stars. Her smile widened.
In… After all these years, it seemed almost funny to think about how pointless their little arguments about stars in the country had been. They'd been born out of those perceived differences between them, though — the everlasting dichotomy of a farm boy and a city girl. Now that she was here, witnessing it first-hand…
Out… Another smile graced her lips, the feel of just being lulling her into a state of mind she'd not felt unless diving deep into those activities that made her, well, her. Reading, climbing, listening to music, working out puzzles… These and more were central to her. Always had been. Always would be.
Funny how everything — even the ordinary and self-evident — seemed to gain such clarity when she simply carried out these two simple actions that her body had somehow forgotten.
In…
Out…
Closing her eyes, Tessa tipped her head back upon the top of the seat cushions too. Took in all the scents, all the sounds, all the warmth exuding from within and from her right…and smiled when she recognised the familiar among all the rest.
"You're welcome back anytime, Tessa." With a firm hold on her shoulders, Mary Hayden — Steve's mother — hugged her once and then held her at arms-length as their eyes met. "I know you police officers don't get much time off, but…don't be a stranger."
Various iterations of that sentiment had been echoed in the goodbyes Tessa had now received from practically every member of the Hayden clan currently present. It both humbled and embarrassed her that they'd treat her with such ease and honesty as if she'd been a long-time friend rather than someone they'd only met two weeks ago.
"Thanks," Tessa said, hoping the blush in her cheeks and emotion in her eyes could be attributed to the heat rather than anything else. Given how her face hurt with the width of her smile, though, she realised it was probably a futile pursuit. "I'll keep that in mind."
Mary smiled, squeezed her shoulders once, then let go and waved for the rest of the Hayden herd to give Tessa some space. The only one who didn't was Steve, who followed her to the car and leaned on the frame of the open car window after she'd gotten in.
"You all set?" He peered inside, his closeness comforting; she could almost imagine he didn't want her to go.
"Think so." Fastening her seatbelt and checking everything else was in place, Tessa smiled at him, which seemed to come so naturally now after two weeks of almost nothing else. That would've been an impossible thing to imagine a month ago. "Thanks again for having me, especially on such short notice. It's been…good."
"Yeah?" The familiar, megawatt dimpled smile was both soft and hesitant, which seemed odd given how assured he'd seemed throughout Tessa's vacation stay. Whatever answers he'd been looking for when he'd made the choice to leave the police force and return here, it'd seemed he'd found them. Now, though…
"Really good," Tessa said, trying to insert forward momentum into her voice and actions lest she slip back into a place she'd only just left. She leaned back to meet Steve's gaze more easily, and offered a wide smile of her own. "I'm happy you've found this place, Steve. It's beautiful and…you seem happy too."
That's what matters.
Steve smiled and silently reached out a hand to her. She took it and — for a moment — they stayed like that, just holding hands and brushing thumbs over knuckles. You'll be all right too, it seemed to say. Right now, she believed it.
Then, the moment was broken as one of Steve's nieces called for "Uncie! Uncie!" And although the niece was hushed by her mother with some significance that had Tessa blush, they both slipped their hand back to separate sides of the car frame.
"Keep in touch?" Steve asked as he took a step back and Tessa twisted the ignition.
Above the sudden din of soft country music from the local radio station and the rush of the A/C, Tessa said with a smile, "Of course."
And she did.