We are getting towards the end. only two chapters to go after this one.
Well, what to say. If you liked their interaction in the previous one you might enjoy this one too.
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?"
As a professional, Gillian knew that talking to someone was something Cal should do.
As his friend, she knew it would have been difficult for her to bring it up and was shamelessly glad someone else had taken care of it.
As a professional, despite his extremely reasonable objection she would have loved to be the one he could open up to about his trauma; after all, she had been doing just that when they had first met.
As his friend, she understood why she might not have been the best person to help him in that way.
As whatever else she was slowly becoming in that unspoken shift in their relationship they were going through, Gillian knew that as long as Cal would let her be part of his recovery one way or the other she would have been fine with it.
The difference was striking after only a couple of days, at least to her. Cal was no longer trying to appear as if he was unbreakable around his family, he'd let them see that he was recovering and didn't like to feel the way he was; not that he was sharing details of what he had been through, but not acting as if it hadn't been a big deal helped them get closer. It wasn't much, sometimes he could just admit to his daughter that he hadn't slept well but in the grand scheme of things that meant a lot. On the other hand, since he was able to open up with Emily and Zoe a little more and unload part of his emotional baggage on them, when he was alone with her he didn't need to succumb to the dark side anymore.
A few days went by, his physical recovery going hand in hand with the mental one. As Gillian had predicted, the bruises started to fade and the soreness to subside, the pain becoming more manageable. He was still bedridden, mostly because of the ankle that needed some traction, but he was becoming more and more independent in those little gestures he first needed help to perform. Gillian loved everything about that phase; talking to a professional was helping Cal fight the demons inside and he was in a better mood to see that the external issues were not the insurmountable obstacles he had previously thought. And from whichever point of view she'd look at it, Gillian was well aware that she was collecting the benefits of his healing process too.
The only, marginal, downside of Cal getting back to his usual self, was that his ability to observe and read people was also tuning in properly.
That evening, after they had shared some Chinese food she had smuggled in for him, as they chatted about work and a lot of nonsense stuff, Cal had told her that Reynolds had stopped by. The indictment on Rodriguez was going ahead full steam and she was taking Greene down with her, while Parker had taken all but one second to turn on them. Everything was coming up, how she had pressured the parole board to let Warton out, financed him and the reasons why. The agent had mentioned that the autopsy on Warton had been done with no surprising results, and that Miller had already been released from hospital. According to Reynolds, there was no talk of covering up any of that, especially after he had let people know that the Lightman Group had some very interesting material in their possession that might have found its way to the press if that had been the case.
To Cal that was all good news, but once he had finished his summary Gillian had stopped that now so familiar touching around his ear, pulling her head back and deciding it was a good time to get up and clear up the tray with the leftover food.
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?"
It wasn't easy for him to ask. He had seen that dark shadow on her face before and had always put it down to Gillian sharing the burden of his pain and trauma, but that evening it had come out of nowhere. He was getting better, which meant they were getting better, and all of a sudden that act of her seeming running away from his words.
"Nothing," she smiled at him, but then strategically went into the bathroom to wash her hands.
"I know I've said you're my blind spot and I have trouble reading you, but honestly Gill…doesn't take an expert to see."
Cal wasn't surprised that it took her longer than necessary, so he just listened to the water running from the open door and waited. He didn't want to push her, he was perfectly fine with the fact that she hadn't returned his love declaration yet because no matter what, being able to tell her outright how he felt about her had been a major step. Cal was aware of the fact that those words had been a no turning point, not unexpected maybe but still quite the statement to make, and he had no problem with leaving her all the time and space she needed. What he didn't like, was to see her chasing away thoughts that he couldn't understand.
It took a few minutes, but eventually Gillian came out of the bathroom and walked up to the bed again. Once there, with Cal sat up straight in the bed and looking at her softly, Gillian walked around the bed to the left side and sat on the edge of the mattress, laying on her side and snuggling up on him. It probably looked ridiculous, her upper body laying down next to him and her legs goofily down on the side, but to Cal it felt incredible. They had been close before, they couldn't go through one of her visits without touching one way or the other and Gillian would usually put her head on his chest for a while as he stroked her hair, but that felt different. She was wrapped around him the best the position allowed, her hand caressing up the down his neck and the side of his face, her face buried in the crock of his neck and her lips absently touching his skin. That was one of the reasons why Cal wasn't sweating the fact that she hadn't said it out loud, because most of what she did and said meant pretty much the same anyway.
But as content as he was with that, he didn't like knowing that she might feel like she couldn't talk to him.
He took a deep breath bracing for the possible painful consequences of the movement, then rolled a bit on his left side and wrapped his right arm around her. He held her in silence for a while, gently caressing her back, then whispered with his mouth close to her forehead.
"You're helping me so much to get better and I'm thankful for it. I don't know if I can but let me try to return the favour." Cal heard her take in a deep breath, slowly relaxing in his arms. "What was it? It must have been something I said."
"It's ok Cal."
"I don't think it is, Gill. I know it isn't. This," his hand briefly squeezed around her arm, as to explain what he was referring to, "it's wonderful, and as far as I'm concerned it's what I'd like to focus on."
"I know Cal, me too." There was a painful tone in her voice, a touch of frustration perhaps towards herself. "It's just…it came at such a high price, for the both of us."
"Which means we're probably due something in return now," he chuckled softly, trying to keep his wits about him as the feeling of them being in bed together in some way started to become very distracting.
"Warton-"
"He's gone, Gill, he's dead." He held her tight when she seemed to flinch at his words, not willing to let that get to her. "I know you didn't want me to kill him because of what it did to me the last time, but of all the things I need to address from the past few days that is not one of them."
"I can't really say I'm sorry he's dead," she granted then, melting away in his embrace. "It's just…Cal, no matter how hard things might have been for me I can't even begin to imagine how you feel. And it's something that I really want to do, but every time I try to deal with my feelings I can't help but make them all about what happened. And I hate," her voice sounded stronger, but in reality it was creaking with sadness and a bit of rage, "I hate that whenever I think of us he's in the picture too, even if he's dead."
"Us. I like the way it sounds when you say it." Cal chuckled softly, his hand now coming up to her face and gently resting on her cheek. The gesture felt strangely overwhelming for Gillian, almost pushing the silent and invisible boundaries that they had been mutually observing until then, and when she dared to look up at him she was stunned to see how deeply serious and committed he was. "I know how you feel, people say it all the time but I really do because I was in the same spot. I love you and I don't want to go back to how things were before between us." Mesmerised by his words and how he was looking at her, Gillian had to agree that the simple word 'us' suddenly sounded a lot different coming from him too. "And I know you might not be ready, I understand, and I will wait. For as long as you need me to. But right now," slowly, gently he rolled away from her with an apologetic smile, "I think you should go before the night nurse comes in. He's gonna have a go at me if he finds you still here this late, and I really don't want you to lose your visiting privileges. Besides," he stifled a painful moan as he tried to lay down on his back, "I don't think these hospital beds are meant for two."
Gillian had to muffle a laugh in the pillow, thinking that was the sweetest dismissal she had ever received in her life. Carefully, she pulled away from him and nodded, then asked if he needed help settling down for the night. He said yes, something that only two days before would have frustrated him, so she helped him with the pillows and leaned in for a quick kiss on his cheek once she was done.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said then while picking up her things. "I tried to clear my schedule in the afternoon and I should be able to come earlier."
"I'll be here," he mumbled sarcastically and she rolled her eyes at him. "Any chance I can get my laptop? I could get some work done."
"Except you're not supposed to," she noted with a stern voice, but he was giving her irresistible puppy eyes. "I'll ask the doctor, after all it might be helpful if you could look at a couple of things. But no spying on employees!"
He laughed softly at the warning, with an accusatory finger pointed at him no less, as they both knew nothing was going to stop him from doing that. Then Gillian's face softened, about a million things going through her head as she smiled and gave him another brief peck on his forehead before saying good night and leaving. The smile was still there when she walked down the corridor and entered the elevator, but so were the many thoughts running around her mind and by the time the doors of the car closed the smile didn't look so stable anymore.