Part 3. See part 1 for disclaimers, etc. Enjoy! I'm off to dress
rehearsal. I'll try to finish this by the end of this week. Probably only
one more chapter.
***
"I do not ask to see the distant scene, One step enough for me."
John Henry Newman
***
Calleigh woke up from a delightful dream where she could still see. The effect was like waking up from a nightmare in reverse, realizing that the cold-armed blackness was in fact the reality and her normal activities of life the dream. She lay there for a minute collecting her courage. Horatio was sound asleep against her, and she focused on him, the even rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of him, the certainty that at least she was not alone.
The clock in the living room chimed once, leaving her totally disoriented. It struck out the full value of the hours, but it only gave one chime for the half hours. That meant it was something-thirty. But what? She strained her ears but couldn't hear any traffic. Was it morning yet? Still the middle of the night? The digital clock on the nightstand would have told her at a glance a few days ago. How on earth had she ever taken so much for granted?
She became aware that she needed to use the bathroom. It was down the hall and to the left from here, she knew, but the pathway suddenly stretched in her mind like train tracks clear to the horizon. She could wake up Horatio, and he would take her, but he had been so exhausted the night before that she hated to bother him. Of course, it could still be the night before, for all she knew. She decided to wait until she knew what time it was. 30 minutes before the clock would strike. She spent them lying there trying not to sweat, trying to keep her heart rate down. People live like this all the time, she told herself. Lots of people are born blind. People go blind. They deal with it and go on. Helen Keller was deaf and blind. Still, no inspirational story she had ever read of obstacles overcome had mentioned the pressure and presence of this blackness. She had always assumed that being blind simply wasn't seeing, not that it meant something hovering over you trying to crush you. She even had to keep her head unnaturally still, adding to the feeling that she was trapped. She had quickly discovered last night that those hated metal eye shields would bite into her cheekbones if she turned her head to the side and compressed them against the pillow. Anything metal that close to her skin should warm up, but they remained cold somehow, defying physics to side with that cold blackness.
She wound up counting off the seconds, assembling them into minutes, finally assembling the minutes into a half hour, then starting over again when she realized she must have been counting too fast. Finally, the clock chimed three. She could safely assume it wasn't 3:00 in the afternoon, or she could have heard traffic. So it was 3:00 in the morning, and there was plenty left of this night to get through. Not that daylight would be any different for her, but she wasn't going to wake up poor Horatio at 3:00 AM just because she had to use the bathroom.
Calleigh swung the covers back and stood up as softly as she could, suddenly feeling dizzy just from lack of sight. She found her way to the end of the bed, using the feel of the mattress against her leg as a guide, then turned to cross the gap to the bedroom door. She misjudged it and walked smack into the dresser instead, biting back a curse. She stood there for a minute, one hand on the dresser, the other rubbing her stinging thigh. Horatio's breathing was still even. Finally, she moved out again, keeping one hand on the wall now that she had conveniently found it. Out the door with tentative steps, hesitating to trust the floor to be there. She shuffled her way down the hall and found the bathroom door. Returning to the bedroom a few minutes later, she followed the wall to the end of the dresser, then struck out across the gap to the bed. It wasn't there. She took another tentative step, then another, hopelessly lost at sea in her own bedroom. Finally, she ran into the corner of the bed. A few inches to one side, and she would have missed it and gone on to the far wall. At least the bed hurt less to run into than the dresser. She found her way down the side and climbed back under the covers, snuggling down against Horatio, her spirit utterly wrung out by the journey. I'm a grown woman, she thought, and it just took me fifteen minutes (I think) and one bruise to go to the bathroom by myself. Is this what life will be like from now on? No, she answered tentatively, but the blackness crowded in closer, not even noticing her defiance. She felt tears rising in her throat again and mercilessly shoved them back down. She wasn't even going to try to cry again. She refused to face her inability to do it. The tears retreated obediently. Counting that much as a small victory, she finally drifted off to sleep again, and once again, she dreamed that she could see.
Horatio let his own eyes fall shut again as soon as he was sure she was asleep. He had woken up the minute she got out of bed, of course, and he had forced himself with clenched fists to lie there and keep breathing evenly. Trying to help her would only humiliate her further, so he had forced himself to do the hardest thing in his nature - nothing. He looked at the digital clock. 3:40. He suddenly felt a surge of gratitude at his own ability to see the clock, and he opened his eyes again to repeat the experience. Still, he wished with all his heart that he could somehow trade places with her. He finally drifted off to sleep again, and once again, he dreamed that he was blind.
***
The next time Calleigh woke up, she knew it was morning. She could hear the traffic coming to life. A car door slammed somewhere up the street. Another person was heading out to a routine day at work, never thinking that the whole world could turn upside down so quickly, that just one second could change a lifetime. Look around you and notice it, she thought. Tonight, you might not be able to. It could happen.
A thought suddenly froze in her mind, spreading ice from there to her entire body. Horatio was supposed to go to work today. Obviously, she couldn't go herself. A blind ballistics expert was worse than useless. But Horatio could not simply spend the rest of his life harnessed to her like a 6-foot guide dog. Even if he stayed home today, he would have to go eventually, leaving her here alone. Alone with the blackness.
"I'm not going to work today," he said softly, startling her.
"I didn't realize you were awake. How did you . . . "
"Your whole body tightened up. Something was scaring you stiff there, so I took a guess at what it might be."
She rolled over to face him, for all the good that did, and immediately rolled back as the metal shield on that side bit into her face. "Horatio, you can't spend the rest of your life baby-sitting me."
"It's not baby-sitting. It's called marriage," he quoted.
"That's not fair, throwing my own words back at me."
"They're good words. They deserve to be repeated. I'll be here as long as you need me, Cal. You've been there for me so much; it's just my turn this week. It may be your turn next time."
She fumbled for his hand under the covers and found it, intertwining her fingers in his. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"You were yourself. That's more than enough to deserve me." He rolled over himself and kissed her gently. They lay there in silence for a minute.
"This may not be just this week, though. What if I never see again, Horatio? You can't spend your life tied to me 24/7. I've got to learn to deal with it eventually."
"Calleigh, don't worry about eventually until we know if we need to. We don't have to plan the rest of your life this week. Just getting through this week itself is going to be bad enough. Don't expand it."
"I've got to know if I can or not. I've got to do something. I can't just lie here, or it will crush me."
He propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her. "What will crush you?"
"The blackness. It isn't just not seeing, Horatio; this is like it's alive. It presses in all the time."
"And it's trying to crush you?"
"No, it's just doing it anyway. It doesn't even notice me. It's so much bigger that I feel like an ant on a sidewalk." She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her warmly. "I'm afraid this is going to drive me crazy. Even just a week or two of it." She hadn't realized it until she said it, but that was her biggest fear. She felt dangerously near the breaking point.
He considered that for a minute. "I think I know some of what you mean."
She sat up herself, pulling herself up in bed and propping her back against the wall. "Really?"
"After that bridge collapse, the worst part was the first weeks when I couldn't do anything. Not just that I wasn't supposed to, but I couldn't. Every little movement hurt. Even breathing hurt. So I just had to lie there as still as I could and try not to scream. I even wound up counting off seconds and minutes sometimes."
She half-smiled at him. "I was doing that last night. Horatio, what time is it?"
"8:15. I can't imagine what you're going through, Cal, but I do know how terrifying it is to feel totally helpless. I understand that much."
She leaned against that understanding, propping her soul up on it. "Thanks. That helps, some."
He squared his shoulders, and she heard his general plotting the battle strategy tone come into his voice. "So here's what we're going to do. We aren't going to plan for the rest of your life this week, but we will try to get you past some of the helplessness. We'll make that blackness notice you, at least, even if it's still bigger."
"But what if my sight doesn't come back? Horatio, I can't do my job if I'm blind. I'll have to resign from the force. It's all I've ever known."
"Calleigh, have you ever heard of Hannibal?"
"Rings a vague bell. He fought against Rome, right?"
"Right. He was the general who led the army from Carthage. Brilliant strategist. While Rome was expecting Carthage to attack across the Mediterranean, since they were almost opposite each other, Hannibal took his army, including the war elephants, around the long way instead. He crossed the Alps on foot, with elephants, without a road, and he surprised Rome by attacking from the north, while they were waiting to be attacked from the south. What always stuck with me, though, was how he did it. You know how he got his army through the Alps?"
She wasn't sure where this was headed, but he had her interest caught. "How?"
"100 feet at a time."
"What?"
"He never told them how far it was, or how high, or how many mountains were in the way. He knew that was too much to deal with at once. They would look at those mountains, and it would seem impossible. They would feel too small. So all he asked them to do was 100 feet at a time. They would advance for 100 feet, then stop and mark the progress, and he would praise them. Then another 100 feet, then another. No matter how frightening the horizon looked, they could always manage just another 100 feet. He never let them focus on the big picture, but they made it all the way, 100 feet at a time."
She nodded slowly. "You're saying we only have to do 100 feet this week."
"Right. But it will be progress, not just waiting helplessly for life to start again. And if we do end up having to cross the mountains, we'll do it. We'll already be started. We can make it, Calleigh, however far we have to." He leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed him back, squeezing him with all her strength. "First off, I'll get an old battery operated clock with hands. I think I've got one in a drawer somewhere. I'll pry the face cover off, and you can feel the hands, so you'll know what time it is."
She gave a sigh of satisfied anticipation. Just to be able to know what time it was seemed like 100 feet itself. "I like it so far. You're right, that's progress. And that's the first 100 feet?"
"No," he corrected. "That's barely the first 5. We can do a lot more for you right now." He started outlining strategy, almost like he was briefing the team at CSI, and Calleigh slowly felt some warmth start to spread through her. And the blackness actually turned its massive head slightly and took brief notice.
***
Adele was questioning Gregory Claridge at his house. She tried not to see the scorch marks in the hall, the burned plaster where the gun had exploded, but wherever her eyes went in the living room, they somehow migrated back there. "Your brother's wife said you hadn't spoken in years."
"Right. He actually told Phillip that he needed to be in a home. There were other issues, but we would argue about that one a lot, me saying that he was perfectly safe and loved here, him saying he was in the way. His telling it to Phillip was the last straw. I told him to get out." It suddenly struck him that Phillip hadn't been perfectly safe here, and he looked at the scorched wall himself and gulped. Adele felt a brief flicker of sympathy for him, but it died before the ember could burst into a flame. Sometimes as a cop, she wondered if bringing the well-intentioned obliviously careless to their senses would almost make as much difference as catching the criminals. So much damage in the world was caused by "accidents" which weren't accidents at all but carelessness.
"How is Phillip?" she asked.
"He's confused, but he's really being brave about it. My wife is with him now. We've got one of us with him all the time. How's Mrs. Caine?"
"She's at home now. The blindness might be temporary, but they don't know at this stage." She wrenched her own thoughts away from Calleigh and back to the original case. "You said there were other issues between you and your brother. What other issues?"
"He was having an affair with his secretary. I told him that wasn't how our mother raised us, and he said it didn't matter, that his wife wouldn't care if she did know. There's money in our family, Detective. His wife married him for that, and he said that's all she wanted, not him."
This was new. Adele made a quick note to herself. "How do you know they were having an affair?"
"I ran into them in a restaurant several times or just out together when he was supposed to be working late. He never denied it himself when I asked him."
"Did his wife know?"
"I don't know. He's right; she really wanted the lifestyle. She never objected to all the hours he was gone."
"What is his secretary's name?"
"Linda something. I don't remember the rest of it. I'm sorry."
"Doesn't matter. We can find it out." Adele switched tracks. "What were you doing on Friday night?"
"The three of us stayed up late. Phillip wanted to watch the Sound of Music. He always loved the songs with the kids. After that, we went to bed."
Adele believed him, but she had to go through the motions. "I'd like a word with your wife."
"Of course. I'll go back to the hospital and take over there, and you can go have a cup of coffee in the cafeteria or something." He stood up and hesitated, looking at the burned plaster again. "Will there be any charges about the accident?"
Adele stood up herself, suddenly wanting to shake him and tell him it wasn't an accident. "I doubt it. Stupidity isn't illegal." He flinched, not meeting her eyes, and they both walked out in silence to their respective cars.
***
Speed was looking at the same piece of evidence he had been looking at 20 minutes ago. He nearly jumped under his microscope lens when Alexx approached softly behind him. "What's bothering you?" she said softly.
"What do you mean? Just thinking about Calleigh, like the rest of us." He retreated behind activity, actually processing his sample now.
"You can't fool me. Even Horatio can't, and he's better at trying. What's bothering you?"
Speed reluctantly decided that he was trapped. Alexx was relentless when she got started. She had him on her table now, and she wouldn't leave him alone until she had thoroughly dissected his mood and come up with a diagnosis. "I just wish Calleigh hadn't been working that case. It was the weekend, you know. She really had the day off."
"Who would you rather have had working it instead?"
He looked up from his sample, startled. "What?"
"You had nothing to do with that accident. It would have happened anyway. If Calleigh hadn't been there, someone else from weekend shift would have. So who would you pick? Probably, it would have been either Larry or Mike out working with Adele. Larry's got twin toddlers. Mike is getting married in a month. So which one of them do you want to be blind instead?"
"No one. I just wish it hadn't happened to anybody, okay?" What was she putting him through this for? Couldn't she just leave him alone?
"Exactly." Alexx gripped his arm lightly but firmly. "Look at me. You aren't really wishing it had been someone else instead of Calleigh. You wish it hadn't happened at all. And that's something you had absolutely no control over. No matter who you called when you found the body, somebody would have gotten hurt. Calling the weekend shift instead of Horatio wouldn't change that. It wasn't your fault, Tim."
He considered it, processing his way slowly through that. "I hadn't thought of who else it could have been."
"It would have happened anyway. You couldn't have stopped it."
"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly. "Wish I could have, though. I didn't know Larry had twins. So do you know the details about everybody's personal life who works here?"
"Of course," Alexx replied. "Including yours. Breeze really is a neat woman."
"Would everybody just. . ." Speed started, and his cell phone rang. Glad of the interruption, he answered it. He snapped it closed a few minutes later. "I've got to go, Alexx. Adele's going to Claridge's office to question his secretary, and she wants me and Eric to process the place. By the way, we found the murder weapon. It was a nail. Had traces of the poison and his blood on it. He put nails in his mouth while he was woodworking, and somebody had poisoned them."
"A poisoned nail. That's a new one."
"Yeah. No lack of variety in this job. See you, Alexx." He headed off with his usual slouching gait. He never showed much expression, but there was a little less tension in him than there had been. Alexx, smiling, switched gears from her unpaid job as CSI's counselor to her paid one and headed for the autopsy bay.
***
Calleigh took a step tentatively and stopped as Horatio spoke from the other end of the hall. "That's too small a step, Cal. We counted them as full length steps. It won't work if you take short ones."
She took a longer one but angled it slightly as she hesitated and clipped the wall. Horatio flinched more than she did. "Here, why don't we try this? I'll walk in front of you. That way, you'll know the floor's there." His voice approached down the hall as he spoke.
"How did you know it feels like the floor isn't there?"
"Watching you. Your feet don't want to come down. It looks like a person going down a staircase in the dark. Only these aren't stairs, Cal. Perfectly flat, stable floor. Come on." He turned her around and walked her to the end of the hall again. "Okay, now, let me get one step in front of you, then follow. Eleven steps from one end of the hall to the other." He gave her arm a quick squeeze before he let it go, then started.
That did work better. Calleigh could feel his presence just in front of her, even though they weren't touching. She forced herself to step out confidently into the blackness, not shortening stride. Eleven steps, focusing on keeping straight, and she stopped. "Is that it?"
"Perfect. You're right at the living room." He came back to her. "Okay, turn around, and let's go the other way." Eleven steps, and they were at the other end. "The bedroom door is just on the left here. The guest bedroom is on the right." He closed the gap and picked her up suddenly in a powerful hug, lifting her feet clear off the floor. "We'll have to stop calling it the guest bedroom, you know. We'll make that the nursery. For Rosalind."
"You know, we might have a very confused son when February gets here."
"Trust me," he said, his incredible voice reaching out and wrapping around her like a warm blanket in the cold blackness, inviting her to trust him. She leaned over and kissed him, the fact that he was holding her six inches off the floor making the operation much easier.
"Always," she said, when she finally broke away. "Put me down, Horatio."
"Why?" He pulled her closer.
"Because you're getting me sidetracked. We have to learn 100 steps of this house, we decided, and we're only at 11." She felt herself descending gently, landing securely on the floor.
"Sorry, you're so distracting. Anyway, you're not counting right. We've been up and down this hall five times so far in all. That's 55."
"Wrong," she said. "Hannibal only counted each step once."
She heard the smile in his voice. "Okay, you win. Our score stands at 11. Plus 5 bonus points for the clock."
She actually found herself laughing again. Bless you, Horatio, she thought, for trying to make this a game. "Come on, Handsome. Let's try it again."
"Okay." He lined them up at the end of the hall, then started off just ahead of her. She followed. Eleven steps, and she stopped. She suddenly realized that she could tell she was at the edge of the larger room. The air currents changed from those in the hall. She could feel the space opening before her. "I'm there, right?"
"Perfect."
"Let me try it alone now." She turned around, gathered herself, and started forward. The hardest part was not shortening the strides. Eleven steps, and she reached to the left and felt the doorframe of their bedroom. She turned and did it again, stopping at the living room. "Getting better. That blackness will move when I walk into it."
He came back over to her, squeezing her arms. "It's no match for you, Cal. And it will figure that out eventually. Now, halfway down the hall, there's the bathroom on the right when you're going this direction. That's at five steps. It'll be six steps coming from the other end." She started off, stopped at five, and put her hand out. There it was.
"I can't believe I've lived here nearly a year, and I didn't know how far it was between things."
"I know. We just take it for granted, don't we?" She turned around and took the five steps back to the living room, then took two more into the gaping space to where she could feel his presence. He hugged her securely, allowing her to rest against him like a ship in a safe harbor. They just stood there for a few minutes until the clock behind them struck noon. "Come on," said Horatio, hooking his arm through hers and heading for the kitchen. "We can't let Rosalind starve. Do you want to help me cook?"
"No, I don't think I'm quite ready to tackle that yet."
"Okay." He put her in touch with one of the chairs at the kitchen table, then kissed her forehead gently as she sat down. "Which one do you want to conquer after lunch? The bedroom or the living room?"
"The bedroom," she said, remembering how lost she had been last night.
"Fine. We might take a nap when we find the bed."
"Horatio, I'm fine. Really."
"You just got out of the hospital. And you're pregnant. Besides, we might not have many more opportunities for some uninterrupted time in bed with just the two of us."
"You've got a point there." She rested her elbows on the hard, polished wood of the table and stared into the blackness, listening to him moving around the kitchen behind her. She did feel suddenly tired but better. It had taken them most of the morning to learn the clock and the hall, but she had at least learned also that the blackness would move with her, that it wasn't solid. I'll beat you, she promised it. We'll beat you. You've never met Horatio when he's determined about something. You can't measure up to him. The blackness didn't notice. Soon, she swore to herself, it would.
***
Speed and Eric were methodically going over Roger Claridge's office while Adele questioned his secretary in the outer room. Speed had switched on the computer and was looking for anything odd, while Eric was working his way through the desk drawers. They knew that this wasn't the crime scene, but it still might have valuable evidence.
"Ugh," Speed grunted, scanning one document. "You know what's actually in cosmetics?"
"I don't think I want to," Eric replied. He pulled out a notebook which seemed to list business expenses and flipped through it. "You know Claridge went out to eat as a business expense about three or four times every week? Don't companies get suspicious about this stuff?"
"His supervisor probably was having his own affair on company budget," said Speed. "Makes you wonder why anyone bothers to get married."
"It works sometimes," Eric protested. "My parents are close, even if my dad's a little stubborn. It works for Alexx. And what about Horatio and Calleigh? I never saw two people that crazy about each other, and marriage is just making it stronger." His voice trailed off as he did think about Calleigh. To distract himself, he said, "What about Breeze? Think there are any possibilities there? You've never dated one steady this long since I've known you."
"Since you're the one who thinks marriage works, why don't I see you rushing to the altar?" Speed pointed out.
"Different case there. I haven't found the right one yet. I really think you have, man."
"Delko, would you. . . " Speed broke off as Eric whistled softly. "What is it?"
"Look at this." It was one of those personal organizers. Eric had called up the latest notes on it. "Need more 1 ½ inch nails for tomorrow night," he read. "That's from Thursday."
"So they had to be poisoned Thursday or Friday. If he bought them himself, when would someone else poison them?"
"And how would somebody else know he was buying them that day? Maybe he had his secretary buy them for him when she was out getting other stuff. We ought to check the receipts in her desk."
"Why would she kill him if they'd been happily having an affair for years?"
Eric shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she wanted to get married and he wouldn't." He pulled out a micro cassette recorder from the top drawer. It had a post-it note across it saying, "Letter to attorney. Finish after finding file Monday." Eric ran it back a few seconds and played it. Claridge's voice filled the room. "Hell, I can't find it. Linda? Linda! Damn, must have already left." The sharp click of the recorder turning off echoed in the paneled office.
"Might be interesting to listen to all of that," Speed said. "Especially if he was working on it Friday, and if he talked to himself like that all the time."
Eric dropped it into an evidence envelope. "I'll run it back at the lab. Must have already left," he quoted. "Wonder if he means for the day or out on errands. Maybe she was doing errands Friday."
"Let's check her desk. There's nothing on this computer except business stuff." Speed switched the monitor off, and they headed out.
***
Later that evening, Eric, Speed, and Alexx all came over to see Calleigh after work. She was glad of their company. Alexx was wonderful, acting like nothing at all had changed. The boys weren't as good at it, especially Speed, who wasn't articulate at best, but the message of support came through loud and clear. They even started talking over the case, with Eric and Speed in chorus explaining the nails. Calleigh had never heard of that as a murder method either. It almost seemed like old times, discussing the case together. Horatio agreed that the secretary was the best suspect this far, even thought her receipts from Friday's errand run made no mention of nails. The others all left about 9:30, and Horatio came back to sit next to Calleigh on the couch. She leaned against him gratefully. "You okay?"
"Fine, just tired. I never thought a day walking around my house could be that wearing." She had the bedroom memorized now, though, and they were making progress with the living room.
"Do you want to go to bed early, then?"
"No, I'm not really sleepy. Just tired. And we did take a nap today." They sat there a little longer in companionable silence, then Horatio stood up.
"Come on, Calleigh. I want to show you something." He pulled her up. She had noticed already that Horatio and Alexx still used the old phrases like show you something, while Eric and Speed bent over backwards to avoid them.
"What?"
"Just wait." He pocketed his keys, then led her to the back sliding glass door and opened it. She felt the breeze straight off the ocean lift her hair and play with it. He locked the door behind them, then led her down the path to the beach. The sand shifted and compressed underfoot, and she was glad of the firm grip of his arm on hers. She would have hated to walk this path alone in the blackness.
"Horatio, what are you doing?"
"Almost there. Just a minute. Here, sit down." She sat down on the sand and felt the large rock against her back, suddenly realizing exactly where they were. Horatio sat down next to her.
"This is our spot, Calleigh. It was right here that I asked you to share your life with me. I've loved this rock ever since." He leaned back against it himself, and it supported both of them, the perfect size for a back rest for two.
She smiled. "I remember. No storm tonight, though." His proposal had been in a pounding rain that drenched them both. She had loved storms ever since.
"Not outside," he replied. She considered his words silently. He put a warm arm around her, and she leaned against him. "We're good at surviving storms, Cal. We've never been shipwrecked yet."
She propped her head against his shoulder, managing to do it so that those metal shields didn't bite into her cheek. "I'm scared, Horatio."
"I know."
"This is bigger than anything I've ever had to deal with."
"It's not bigger than our connection to each other," he reminded her.
"No," she agreed after a moment's hesitation. They sat there in silence for awhile. She had never realized how much the ocean invoked the other senses. She could hear the quiet waves lapping at the shore, even on this calm night. The sharp smell of salt water stung her nose, and she could even hear the cries of a distant bird.
Horatio's voice started so smoothly that it almost seemed to continue her thoughts. "The waves are calm tonight. No storm, but there's a nice breeze coming in. The moon is about half full, and you can see it glowing on the waves. Makes them shimmer, like they're dancing at being kissed by the moonlight." He paused to give her a fluttering moonlight kiss himself, and she shivered in delight, like the waves. "Then, there are the stars. They're glorious tonight, Cal. It makes the sky look like an inverted bowl of diamonds. If you look at the whole sky, though, the biggest thing up there is the darkness. It's so much bigger than the stars, but they're stronger. They shine through it, and it can't stop them. And it's the contrast that makes them even more beautiful. The darkness is larger, but it doesn't win."
She turned to him suddenly, flinging both arms tightly around him, burying her bandaged face in his chest. He held her tenderly and stroked her back as she simply let herself rest in the one thing that was larger than the blackness - the love.
***
"I do not ask to see the distant scene, One step enough for me."
John Henry Newman
***
Calleigh woke up from a delightful dream where she could still see. The effect was like waking up from a nightmare in reverse, realizing that the cold-armed blackness was in fact the reality and her normal activities of life the dream. She lay there for a minute collecting her courage. Horatio was sound asleep against her, and she focused on him, the even rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of him, the certainty that at least she was not alone.
The clock in the living room chimed once, leaving her totally disoriented. It struck out the full value of the hours, but it only gave one chime for the half hours. That meant it was something-thirty. But what? She strained her ears but couldn't hear any traffic. Was it morning yet? Still the middle of the night? The digital clock on the nightstand would have told her at a glance a few days ago. How on earth had she ever taken so much for granted?
She became aware that she needed to use the bathroom. It was down the hall and to the left from here, she knew, but the pathway suddenly stretched in her mind like train tracks clear to the horizon. She could wake up Horatio, and he would take her, but he had been so exhausted the night before that she hated to bother him. Of course, it could still be the night before, for all she knew. She decided to wait until she knew what time it was. 30 minutes before the clock would strike. She spent them lying there trying not to sweat, trying to keep her heart rate down. People live like this all the time, she told herself. Lots of people are born blind. People go blind. They deal with it and go on. Helen Keller was deaf and blind. Still, no inspirational story she had ever read of obstacles overcome had mentioned the pressure and presence of this blackness. She had always assumed that being blind simply wasn't seeing, not that it meant something hovering over you trying to crush you. She even had to keep her head unnaturally still, adding to the feeling that she was trapped. She had quickly discovered last night that those hated metal eye shields would bite into her cheekbones if she turned her head to the side and compressed them against the pillow. Anything metal that close to her skin should warm up, but they remained cold somehow, defying physics to side with that cold blackness.
She wound up counting off the seconds, assembling them into minutes, finally assembling the minutes into a half hour, then starting over again when she realized she must have been counting too fast. Finally, the clock chimed three. She could safely assume it wasn't 3:00 in the afternoon, or she could have heard traffic. So it was 3:00 in the morning, and there was plenty left of this night to get through. Not that daylight would be any different for her, but she wasn't going to wake up poor Horatio at 3:00 AM just because she had to use the bathroom.
Calleigh swung the covers back and stood up as softly as she could, suddenly feeling dizzy just from lack of sight. She found her way to the end of the bed, using the feel of the mattress against her leg as a guide, then turned to cross the gap to the bedroom door. She misjudged it and walked smack into the dresser instead, biting back a curse. She stood there for a minute, one hand on the dresser, the other rubbing her stinging thigh. Horatio's breathing was still even. Finally, she moved out again, keeping one hand on the wall now that she had conveniently found it. Out the door with tentative steps, hesitating to trust the floor to be there. She shuffled her way down the hall and found the bathroom door. Returning to the bedroom a few minutes later, she followed the wall to the end of the dresser, then struck out across the gap to the bed. It wasn't there. She took another tentative step, then another, hopelessly lost at sea in her own bedroom. Finally, she ran into the corner of the bed. A few inches to one side, and she would have missed it and gone on to the far wall. At least the bed hurt less to run into than the dresser. She found her way down the side and climbed back under the covers, snuggling down against Horatio, her spirit utterly wrung out by the journey. I'm a grown woman, she thought, and it just took me fifteen minutes (I think) and one bruise to go to the bathroom by myself. Is this what life will be like from now on? No, she answered tentatively, but the blackness crowded in closer, not even noticing her defiance. She felt tears rising in her throat again and mercilessly shoved them back down. She wasn't even going to try to cry again. She refused to face her inability to do it. The tears retreated obediently. Counting that much as a small victory, she finally drifted off to sleep again, and once again, she dreamed that she could see.
Horatio let his own eyes fall shut again as soon as he was sure she was asleep. He had woken up the minute she got out of bed, of course, and he had forced himself with clenched fists to lie there and keep breathing evenly. Trying to help her would only humiliate her further, so he had forced himself to do the hardest thing in his nature - nothing. He looked at the digital clock. 3:40. He suddenly felt a surge of gratitude at his own ability to see the clock, and he opened his eyes again to repeat the experience. Still, he wished with all his heart that he could somehow trade places with her. He finally drifted off to sleep again, and once again, he dreamed that he was blind.
***
The next time Calleigh woke up, she knew it was morning. She could hear the traffic coming to life. A car door slammed somewhere up the street. Another person was heading out to a routine day at work, never thinking that the whole world could turn upside down so quickly, that just one second could change a lifetime. Look around you and notice it, she thought. Tonight, you might not be able to. It could happen.
A thought suddenly froze in her mind, spreading ice from there to her entire body. Horatio was supposed to go to work today. Obviously, she couldn't go herself. A blind ballistics expert was worse than useless. But Horatio could not simply spend the rest of his life harnessed to her like a 6-foot guide dog. Even if he stayed home today, he would have to go eventually, leaving her here alone. Alone with the blackness.
"I'm not going to work today," he said softly, startling her.
"I didn't realize you were awake. How did you . . . "
"Your whole body tightened up. Something was scaring you stiff there, so I took a guess at what it might be."
She rolled over to face him, for all the good that did, and immediately rolled back as the metal shield on that side bit into her face. "Horatio, you can't spend the rest of your life baby-sitting me."
"It's not baby-sitting. It's called marriage," he quoted.
"That's not fair, throwing my own words back at me."
"They're good words. They deserve to be repeated. I'll be here as long as you need me, Cal. You've been there for me so much; it's just my turn this week. It may be your turn next time."
She fumbled for his hand under the covers and found it, intertwining her fingers in his. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"You were yourself. That's more than enough to deserve me." He rolled over himself and kissed her gently. They lay there in silence for a minute.
"This may not be just this week, though. What if I never see again, Horatio? You can't spend your life tied to me 24/7. I've got to learn to deal with it eventually."
"Calleigh, don't worry about eventually until we know if we need to. We don't have to plan the rest of your life this week. Just getting through this week itself is going to be bad enough. Don't expand it."
"I've got to know if I can or not. I've got to do something. I can't just lie here, or it will crush me."
He propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her. "What will crush you?"
"The blackness. It isn't just not seeing, Horatio; this is like it's alive. It presses in all the time."
"And it's trying to crush you?"
"No, it's just doing it anyway. It doesn't even notice me. It's so much bigger that I feel like an ant on a sidewalk." She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her warmly. "I'm afraid this is going to drive me crazy. Even just a week or two of it." She hadn't realized it until she said it, but that was her biggest fear. She felt dangerously near the breaking point.
He considered that for a minute. "I think I know some of what you mean."
She sat up herself, pulling herself up in bed and propping her back against the wall. "Really?"
"After that bridge collapse, the worst part was the first weeks when I couldn't do anything. Not just that I wasn't supposed to, but I couldn't. Every little movement hurt. Even breathing hurt. So I just had to lie there as still as I could and try not to scream. I even wound up counting off seconds and minutes sometimes."
She half-smiled at him. "I was doing that last night. Horatio, what time is it?"
"8:15. I can't imagine what you're going through, Cal, but I do know how terrifying it is to feel totally helpless. I understand that much."
She leaned against that understanding, propping her soul up on it. "Thanks. That helps, some."
He squared his shoulders, and she heard his general plotting the battle strategy tone come into his voice. "So here's what we're going to do. We aren't going to plan for the rest of your life this week, but we will try to get you past some of the helplessness. We'll make that blackness notice you, at least, even if it's still bigger."
"But what if my sight doesn't come back? Horatio, I can't do my job if I'm blind. I'll have to resign from the force. It's all I've ever known."
"Calleigh, have you ever heard of Hannibal?"
"Rings a vague bell. He fought against Rome, right?"
"Right. He was the general who led the army from Carthage. Brilliant strategist. While Rome was expecting Carthage to attack across the Mediterranean, since they were almost opposite each other, Hannibal took his army, including the war elephants, around the long way instead. He crossed the Alps on foot, with elephants, without a road, and he surprised Rome by attacking from the north, while they were waiting to be attacked from the south. What always stuck with me, though, was how he did it. You know how he got his army through the Alps?"
She wasn't sure where this was headed, but he had her interest caught. "How?"
"100 feet at a time."
"What?"
"He never told them how far it was, or how high, or how many mountains were in the way. He knew that was too much to deal with at once. They would look at those mountains, and it would seem impossible. They would feel too small. So all he asked them to do was 100 feet at a time. They would advance for 100 feet, then stop and mark the progress, and he would praise them. Then another 100 feet, then another. No matter how frightening the horizon looked, they could always manage just another 100 feet. He never let them focus on the big picture, but they made it all the way, 100 feet at a time."
She nodded slowly. "You're saying we only have to do 100 feet this week."
"Right. But it will be progress, not just waiting helplessly for life to start again. And if we do end up having to cross the mountains, we'll do it. We'll already be started. We can make it, Calleigh, however far we have to." He leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed him back, squeezing him with all her strength. "First off, I'll get an old battery operated clock with hands. I think I've got one in a drawer somewhere. I'll pry the face cover off, and you can feel the hands, so you'll know what time it is."
She gave a sigh of satisfied anticipation. Just to be able to know what time it was seemed like 100 feet itself. "I like it so far. You're right, that's progress. And that's the first 100 feet?"
"No," he corrected. "That's barely the first 5. We can do a lot more for you right now." He started outlining strategy, almost like he was briefing the team at CSI, and Calleigh slowly felt some warmth start to spread through her. And the blackness actually turned its massive head slightly and took brief notice.
***
Adele was questioning Gregory Claridge at his house. She tried not to see the scorch marks in the hall, the burned plaster where the gun had exploded, but wherever her eyes went in the living room, they somehow migrated back there. "Your brother's wife said you hadn't spoken in years."
"Right. He actually told Phillip that he needed to be in a home. There were other issues, but we would argue about that one a lot, me saying that he was perfectly safe and loved here, him saying he was in the way. His telling it to Phillip was the last straw. I told him to get out." It suddenly struck him that Phillip hadn't been perfectly safe here, and he looked at the scorched wall himself and gulped. Adele felt a brief flicker of sympathy for him, but it died before the ember could burst into a flame. Sometimes as a cop, she wondered if bringing the well-intentioned obliviously careless to their senses would almost make as much difference as catching the criminals. So much damage in the world was caused by "accidents" which weren't accidents at all but carelessness.
"How is Phillip?" she asked.
"He's confused, but he's really being brave about it. My wife is with him now. We've got one of us with him all the time. How's Mrs. Caine?"
"She's at home now. The blindness might be temporary, but they don't know at this stage." She wrenched her own thoughts away from Calleigh and back to the original case. "You said there were other issues between you and your brother. What other issues?"
"He was having an affair with his secretary. I told him that wasn't how our mother raised us, and he said it didn't matter, that his wife wouldn't care if she did know. There's money in our family, Detective. His wife married him for that, and he said that's all she wanted, not him."
This was new. Adele made a quick note to herself. "How do you know they were having an affair?"
"I ran into them in a restaurant several times or just out together when he was supposed to be working late. He never denied it himself when I asked him."
"Did his wife know?"
"I don't know. He's right; she really wanted the lifestyle. She never objected to all the hours he was gone."
"What is his secretary's name?"
"Linda something. I don't remember the rest of it. I'm sorry."
"Doesn't matter. We can find it out." Adele switched tracks. "What were you doing on Friday night?"
"The three of us stayed up late. Phillip wanted to watch the Sound of Music. He always loved the songs with the kids. After that, we went to bed."
Adele believed him, but she had to go through the motions. "I'd like a word with your wife."
"Of course. I'll go back to the hospital and take over there, and you can go have a cup of coffee in the cafeteria or something." He stood up and hesitated, looking at the burned plaster again. "Will there be any charges about the accident?"
Adele stood up herself, suddenly wanting to shake him and tell him it wasn't an accident. "I doubt it. Stupidity isn't illegal." He flinched, not meeting her eyes, and they both walked out in silence to their respective cars.
***
Speed was looking at the same piece of evidence he had been looking at 20 minutes ago. He nearly jumped under his microscope lens when Alexx approached softly behind him. "What's bothering you?" she said softly.
"What do you mean? Just thinking about Calleigh, like the rest of us." He retreated behind activity, actually processing his sample now.
"You can't fool me. Even Horatio can't, and he's better at trying. What's bothering you?"
Speed reluctantly decided that he was trapped. Alexx was relentless when she got started. She had him on her table now, and she wouldn't leave him alone until she had thoroughly dissected his mood and come up with a diagnosis. "I just wish Calleigh hadn't been working that case. It was the weekend, you know. She really had the day off."
"Who would you rather have had working it instead?"
He looked up from his sample, startled. "What?"
"You had nothing to do with that accident. It would have happened anyway. If Calleigh hadn't been there, someone else from weekend shift would have. So who would you pick? Probably, it would have been either Larry or Mike out working with Adele. Larry's got twin toddlers. Mike is getting married in a month. So which one of them do you want to be blind instead?"
"No one. I just wish it hadn't happened to anybody, okay?" What was she putting him through this for? Couldn't she just leave him alone?
"Exactly." Alexx gripped his arm lightly but firmly. "Look at me. You aren't really wishing it had been someone else instead of Calleigh. You wish it hadn't happened at all. And that's something you had absolutely no control over. No matter who you called when you found the body, somebody would have gotten hurt. Calling the weekend shift instead of Horatio wouldn't change that. It wasn't your fault, Tim."
He considered it, processing his way slowly through that. "I hadn't thought of who else it could have been."
"It would have happened anyway. You couldn't have stopped it."
"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly. "Wish I could have, though. I didn't know Larry had twins. So do you know the details about everybody's personal life who works here?"
"Of course," Alexx replied. "Including yours. Breeze really is a neat woman."
"Would everybody just. . ." Speed started, and his cell phone rang. Glad of the interruption, he answered it. He snapped it closed a few minutes later. "I've got to go, Alexx. Adele's going to Claridge's office to question his secretary, and she wants me and Eric to process the place. By the way, we found the murder weapon. It was a nail. Had traces of the poison and his blood on it. He put nails in his mouth while he was woodworking, and somebody had poisoned them."
"A poisoned nail. That's a new one."
"Yeah. No lack of variety in this job. See you, Alexx." He headed off with his usual slouching gait. He never showed much expression, but there was a little less tension in him than there had been. Alexx, smiling, switched gears from her unpaid job as CSI's counselor to her paid one and headed for the autopsy bay.
***
Calleigh took a step tentatively and stopped as Horatio spoke from the other end of the hall. "That's too small a step, Cal. We counted them as full length steps. It won't work if you take short ones."
She took a longer one but angled it slightly as she hesitated and clipped the wall. Horatio flinched more than she did. "Here, why don't we try this? I'll walk in front of you. That way, you'll know the floor's there." His voice approached down the hall as he spoke.
"How did you know it feels like the floor isn't there?"
"Watching you. Your feet don't want to come down. It looks like a person going down a staircase in the dark. Only these aren't stairs, Cal. Perfectly flat, stable floor. Come on." He turned her around and walked her to the end of the hall again. "Okay, now, let me get one step in front of you, then follow. Eleven steps from one end of the hall to the other." He gave her arm a quick squeeze before he let it go, then started.
That did work better. Calleigh could feel his presence just in front of her, even though they weren't touching. She forced herself to step out confidently into the blackness, not shortening stride. Eleven steps, focusing on keeping straight, and she stopped. "Is that it?"
"Perfect. You're right at the living room." He came back to her. "Okay, turn around, and let's go the other way." Eleven steps, and they were at the other end. "The bedroom door is just on the left here. The guest bedroom is on the right." He closed the gap and picked her up suddenly in a powerful hug, lifting her feet clear off the floor. "We'll have to stop calling it the guest bedroom, you know. We'll make that the nursery. For Rosalind."
"You know, we might have a very confused son when February gets here."
"Trust me," he said, his incredible voice reaching out and wrapping around her like a warm blanket in the cold blackness, inviting her to trust him. She leaned over and kissed him, the fact that he was holding her six inches off the floor making the operation much easier.
"Always," she said, when she finally broke away. "Put me down, Horatio."
"Why?" He pulled her closer.
"Because you're getting me sidetracked. We have to learn 100 steps of this house, we decided, and we're only at 11." She felt herself descending gently, landing securely on the floor.
"Sorry, you're so distracting. Anyway, you're not counting right. We've been up and down this hall five times so far in all. That's 55."
"Wrong," she said. "Hannibal only counted each step once."
She heard the smile in his voice. "Okay, you win. Our score stands at 11. Plus 5 bonus points for the clock."
She actually found herself laughing again. Bless you, Horatio, she thought, for trying to make this a game. "Come on, Handsome. Let's try it again."
"Okay." He lined them up at the end of the hall, then started off just ahead of her. She followed. Eleven steps, and she stopped. She suddenly realized that she could tell she was at the edge of the larger room. The air currents changed from those in the hall. She could feel the space opening before her. "I'm there, right?"
"Perfect."
"Let me try it alone now." She turned around, gathered herself, and started forward. The hardest part was not shortening the strides. Eleven steps, and she reached to the left and felt the doorframe of their bedroom. She turned and did it again, stopping at the living room. "Getting better. That blackness will move when I walk into it."
He came back over to her, squeezing her arms. "It's no match for you, Cal. And it will figure that out eventually. Now, halfway down the hall, there's the bathroom on the right when you're going this direction. That's at five steps. It'll be six steps coming from the other end." She started off, stopped at five, and put her hand out. There it was.
"I can't believe I've lived here nearly a year, and I didn't know how far it was between things."
"I know. We just take it for granted, don't we?" She turned around and took the five steps back to the living room, then took two more into the gaping space to where she could feel his presence. He hugged her securely, allowing her to rest against him like a ship in a safe harbor. They just stood there for a few minutes until the clock behind them struck noon. "Come on," said Horatio, hooking his arm through hers and heading for the kitchen. "We can't let Rosalind starve. Do you want to help me cook?"
"No, I don't think I'm quite ready to tackle that yet."
"Okay." He put her in touch with one of the chairs at the kitchen table, then kissed her forehead gently as she sat down. "Which one do you want to conquer after lunch? The bedroom or the living room?"
"The bedroom," she said, remembering how lost she had been last night.
"Fine. We might take a nap when we find the bed."
"Horatio, I'm fine. Really."
"You just got out of the hospital. And you're pregnant. Besides, we might not have many more opportunities for some uninterrupted time in bed with just the two of us."
"You've got a point there." She rested her elbows on the hard, polished wood of the table and stared into the blackness, listening to him moving around the kitchen behind her. She did feel suddenly tired but better. It had taken them most of the morning to learn the clock and the hall, but she had at least learned also that the blackness would move with her, that it wasn't solid. I'll beat you, she promised it. We'll beat you. You've never met Horatio when he's determined about something. You can't measure up to him. The blackness didn't notice. Soon, she swore to herself, it would.
***
Speed and Eric were methodically going over Roger Claridge's office while Adele questioned his secretary in the outer room. Speed had switched on the computer and was looking for anything odd, while Eric was working his way through the desk drawers. They knew that this wasn't the crime scene, but it still might have valuable evidence.
"Ugh," Speed grunted, scanning one document. "You know what's actually in cosmetics?"
"I don't think I want to," Eric replied. He pulled out a notebook which seemed to list business expenses and flipped through it. "You know Claridge went out to eat as a business expense about three or four times every week? Don't companies get suspicious about this stuff?"
"His supervisor probably was having his own affair on company budget," said Speed. "Makes you wonder why anyone bothers to get married."
"It works sometimes," Eric protested. "My parents are close, even if my dad's a little stubborn. It works for Alexx. And what about Horatio and Calleigh? I never saw two people that crazy about each other, and marriage is just making it stronger." His voice trailed off as he did think about Calleigh. To distract himself, he said, "What about Breeze? Think there are any possibilities there? You've never dated one steady this long since I've known you."
"Since you're the one who thinks marriage works, why don't I see you rushing to the altar?" Speed pointed out.
"Different case there. I haven't found the right one yet. I really think you have, man."
"Delko, would you. . . " Speed broke off as Eric whistled softly. "What is it?"
"Look at this." It was one of those personal organizers. Eric had called up the latest notes on it. "Need more 1 ½ inch nails for tomorrow night," he read. "That's from Thursday."
"So they had to be poisoned Thursday or Friday. If he bought them himself, when would someone else poison them?"
"And how would somebody else know he was buying them that day? Maybe he had his secretary buy them for him when she was out getting other stuff. We ought to check the receipts in her desk."
"Why would she kill him if they'd been happily having an affair for years?"
Eric shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she wanted to get married and he wouldn't." He pulled out a micro cassette recorder from the top drawer. It had a post-it note across it saying, "Letter to attorney. Finish after finding file Monday." Eric ran it back a few seconds and played it. Claridge's voice filled the room. "Hell, I can't find it. Linda? Linda! Damn, must have already left." The sharp click of the recorder turning off echoed in the paneled office.
"Might be interesting to listen to all of that," Speed said. "Especially if he was working on it Friday, and if he talked to himself like that all the time."
Eric dropped it into an evidence envelope. "I'll run it back at the lab. Must have already left," he quoted. "Wonder if he means for the day or out on errands. Maybe she was doing errands Friday."
"Let's check her desk. There's nothing on this computer except business stuff." Speed switched the monitor off, and they headed out.
***
Later that evening, Eric, Speed, and Alexx all came over to see Calleigh after work. She was glad of their company. Alexx was wonderful, acting like nothing at all had changed. The boys weren't as good at it, especially Speed, who wasn't articulate at best, but the message of support came through loud and clear. They even started talking over the case, with Eric and Speed in chorus explaining the nails. Calleigh had never heard of that as a murder method either. It almost seemed like old times, discussing the case together. Horatio agreed that the secretary was the best suspect this far, even thought her receipts from Friday's errand run made no mention of nails. The others all left about 9:30, and Horatio came back to sit next to Calleigh on the couch. She leaned against him gratefully. "You okay?"
"Fine, just tired. I never thought a day walking around my house could be that wearing." She had the bedroom memorized now, though, and they were making progress with the living room.
"Do you want to go to bed early, then?"
"No, I'm not really sleepy. Just tired. And we did take a nap today." They sat there a little longer in companionable silence, then Horatio stood up.
"Come on, Calleigh. I want to show you something." He pulled her up. She had noticed already that Horatio and Alexx still used the old phrases like show you something, while Eric and Speed bent over backwards to avoid them.
"What?"
"Just wait." He pocketed his keys, then led her to the back sliding glass door and opened it. She felt the breeze straight off the ocean lift her hair and play with it. He locked the door behind them, then led her down the path to the beach. The sand shifted and compressed underfoot, and she was glad of the firm grip of his arm on hers. She would have hated to walk this path alone in the blackness.
"Horatio, what are you doing?"
"Almost there. Just a minute. Here, sit down." She sat down on the sand and felt the large rock against her back, suddenly realizing exactly where they were. Horatio sat down next to her.
"This is our spot, Calleigh. It was right here that I asked you to share your life with me. I've loved this rock ever since." He leaned back against it himself, and it supported both of them, the perfect size for a back rest for two.
She smiled. "I remember. No storm tonight, though." His proposal had been in a pounding rain that drenched them both. She had loved storms ever since.
"Not outside," he replied. She considered his words silently. He put a warm arm around her, and she leaned against him. "We're good at surviving storms, Cal. We've never been shipwrecked yet."
She propped her head against his shoulder, managing to do it so that those metal shields didn't bite into her cheek. "I'm scared, Horatio."
"I know."
"This is bigger than anything I've ever had to deal with."
"It's not bigger than our connection to each other," he reminded her.
"No," she agreed after a moment's hesitation. They sat there in silence for awhile. She had never realized how much the ocean invoked the other senses. She could hear the quiet waves lapping at the shore, even on this calm night. The sharp smell of salt water stung her nose, and she could even hear the cries of a distant bird.
Horatio's voice started so smoothly that it almost seemed to continue her thoughts. "The waves are calm tonight. No storm, but there's a nice breeze coming in. The moon is about half full, and you can see it glowing on the waves. Makes them shimmer, like they're dancing at being kissed by the moonlight." He paused to give her a fluttering moonlight kiss himself, and she shivered in delight, like the waves. "Then, there are the stars. They're glorious tonight, Cal. It makes the sky look like an inverted bowl of diamonds. If you look at the whole sky, though, the biggest thing up there is the darkness. It's so much bigger than the stars, but they're stronger. They shine through it, and it can't stop them. And it's the contrast that makes them even more beautiful. The darkness is larger, but it doesn't win."
She turned to him suddenly, flinging both arms tightly around him, burying her bandaged face in his chest. He held her tenderly and stroked her back as she simply let herself rest in the one thing that was larger than the blackness - the love.