~.~
The sound and smell centred her the moment she pushed open the door from the street. The lights were low even thought it was only just gone six, and the mood was calm and familiar. It was strange that a place like this would stir comfort in her, and yet here Wraith found herself at ease. Something low and gently rocky drifted warmly from the antique jukebox that glistened proudly in one dim corner. The shadows and soft mood lighting welcomed her as she crossed the empty floor. One face turned her way, two others either ignoring her or hadn't noticed her entrance, and that was fine by her.
The soft shadows collected in her favourite corner as she slipped onto the stool, and raised a brief smile for the man who met her eye. His face quirked on one side as he playfully shook his head, but he set aside the bottle he was working on and tossed the cloth over one shoulder. He winked at her as he passed her for the door to the back room, and Wraith rolled her eyes.
Faint, new anticipation fluttered in her gut. She'd been meeting this sensation regularly lately, but it still felt fresh and new and unknown. It was admittedly a little unsettling, to be nervous like that. Greg wasn't gone long before a slow, laboured tread sounded along the little hallway, and Wraith felt her neck heat as she realised she'd leaned toward it.
An overly large blue crate appeared through the ajar door first, shunting it further open as the bearer followed. His hair was a tousled mess, more from work than art, and the sleeves of his open-collar shirt were rolled past the elbow. Wraith's stomach gave a tiny, giddy kind of lurch.
He had a look of concentration set deep in his face, and he passed her without so much as a glance. He walked the length of the bar counter and halted where Greg had been at the far end, setting the crate on the sizeable back prep-shelf and balancing it against his abdomen as he sifted through the contents for specific bottles. After a few were slid neatly into what must have been their proper places, he hefted the crate again, sidled a few steps over, re-balanced and performed the motions again.
Wraith watched him for a time as he shifted closer to her corner little by little, unhurried, letting the atmosphere breathe around her and settle her remaining doubts.
He fumbled his footing when he eventually caught sight of her, and Wraith couldn't catch the huffed laugh that escaped her throat as he did indeed manage not to drop the heavy-looking crate. His surprise quickly melted into delight, and it didn't take him very long to set about unpacking the remaining bottles and arrive before her, elbows resting comfortably on the gleaming bar top, grin wide and eyes bright with fondness, and just a touch of concern. There was a streak of grey dust crossing the edge of his jaw under one ear.
Bottle dust; the product of a sedentary wait, not the result of an explosion or a gunfight.
"You weren't supposed to get out til tomorrow!"
Wraith cocked an eyebrow to hide the way her lips twitched and her heart stuttered.
"Nice to see you too," she answered.
Elliot rolled his eyes, and gave her the look. She felt herself almost smirking, and didn't mind. Something had changed during her time in Intensive Care, something that maybe had changed a long time ago and had lain, dormant and waiting, for them to catch up.
"You should have called, I would've picked you up." he chided softly, and though there was a little pink flush of shyness across his cheekbones, he still managed to look as roguish as he always had.
"I managed."
He didn't argue further, merely nodding and giving a dramatic eye-roll. Wraith got the impression that he'd expected precisely that answer, and for once it didn't bother her so much to be known. Maybe it was even kind of… nice.
So while he traded small talk with her, propped lazily across the bar to keep their conversation relatively private even though the place was still mostly deserted, Wraith let him cheer her up. Eventually he eyed the clock on the wall and stretched, but Wraith felt no familiar burning urge to do anything to shatter the easy comfort of his familiar presence.
And, like a reliable pocket watch, Elliot eyed her, too.
"So just passing through, or…"
His gaze only wavered a little, amber eyes gentle. Wraith's heart throbbed, and she tipped her chin to the other side. His grin crept wide and pleased across his face, and she knew she was making the right decision. All the soul-searching she'd done in the past few days would not be in vain after all.
~.~
When she heard the light tread on the hallway carpet pause, there was a whisper. She didn't need it, but come it did anyway, her own voice from some other time, gentle and… fond, she knew now. He was padding through the apartment in socked feet so as not to wake her, and there was a small swell of affection in her chest just knowing it. She heard it, in the whisper.
He's looking at you. Open your eyes.
She did, because the Voices were always right. There he was in the doorway, one palm against the wooden frame as his expression shifted into slight surprise and then embarrassment, pink dusting the top of his cheeks at being caught even as his mouth gave her a lazy, familiar grin. More smirk than anything, and tinged with an oddly sweet chagrin, but loose and comfortable the way only Elliot Witt could be. She felt the smile that touched her own lips.
"I didn't mean to wake you up." he apologised, his eyes darting down at his feet and then around the room, "I was just… checking you were… you know."
Okay, he was checking she was okay.
"I'm fine," she promised, and for the first time in days she meant it.
His cocky grin softened, and he watched her for a moment longer. Her heart thumped hot and hard in her chest, because of the exposure, because of the… the way she felt. She wasn't sure if she indicated he come in, or if he made to move and she gave the affirmative. But he tread carefully across the room, and when he hesitated at the edge of the bed, her small smile made him laugh, face flushing pink.
She sat up, giving him space, but it was reflexive. One of the last walls between them had been knocked down recently and she was still uncertain in the new terrain it had uncovered. So many new experiences, that he'd brought her way in the years they'd been falling together. He leaned back against the headboard and looked across at her, sitting quietly as she fought not to fidget, forced herself calm, and settled.
Wraith thought briefly that she wasn't drunk enough to survive him looking at her so gently with no pretences to hide behind, no shields to keep them apart. Neither of them said anything for a very long moment. It should have been uncomfortable, awkward even, but…
When Elliot lay his hand between them, palm opening to the ceiling, without thinking she slipped her fingers between his and squeezed.
It was more frightening than it had been in the hospital. This was safe territory, this was his home, this was intimate. Wraith's throat seized up, and she swallowed hard. The moment lay between their palms as she watched his down-turned head, as she traced with her eyes the loops and tangles of his hair, devoid of the goggles she's always associated so closely with him. She didn't even realise she'd reached out her free hand to brush one stray curl from his forehead until his gaze rose to meet her half-way.
A single beat of time pulsed as they looked at each other. Elliot said nothing, and she was grateful. He let her adjust to the moment, to the proximity, without retreating, and without advancing. He waited for her call, and she thought that there was nobody else in the known world who could possibly ever know her the way he did. When she let her hand fall he caught it in his and raised it, pressing a feathery kiss against her knuckles before releasing her.
When his gaze flickered over her face nervously for a moment, she saw her own fear in them.
She thought of the Game that had visited her in the haze of surgery-drugs, of the terror she'd unearthed in Mirage's eyes for the first time and how Elliot had turned up at her door that night with the only thing that could have held any comfort for her. She thought of how by some miracle he'd known, and by some further miracle she'd let him in. She knew now, of course, why the Voices were so insistent. She'd worked it out long ago that he was important. This man who'd wormed his way around all of her walls to call himself her back-up, her teammate, her partner, her friend. He was vital.
But now, now she knew the rest, or what of it she could decipher. The ache in every cry when he was wounded, the growl in every command barked from the Void to end the ones who'd done it. The Voices had been telling her all along, without the right words. She'd been so busy trying to kill her feelings that she hadn't realised They were showing her how futile that would be.
Stay.
Wraith wound her fingers more tightly in his and let their arms brush as he shifted closer, watched him turn to face her properly, felt his fingertips brush away her fringe for no real reason than because they could. For now, that was enough. It wasn't spoken, but she knew. That night, much like that very first time, the warmth of him coiled under the sheets beside her was a soft and sure comfort, and this time she curled against him as they slept soundly in that shared sense of security.
~.~
When she made her way into the kitchen in the morning, the air was thick with the rich smell of roasted coffee beans, soothing her soul even as she breathed it in. She felt comfortable in Elliot's kitchen. It was clean, well-equipped and professional-grade, but still carried the essence of what made it his, crammed into corner shelves and nooks. Framed photos, knickknacks, things she'd spent many visits looking at. A vaguely neglected pot plant with leaves more intricate the longer you looked, a thimble-sized silver trophy, a strangely shaped cog, a sliver of shiny reflective glass. A small piece of sandy-red rock she just knew was from the canyon.
He looked up from pouring as she entered, an involuntary smile greeting her. His eyes were lit with the morning sunshine, a hazy summer gold that held the things he didn't need to say. Wraith didn't stop when she reached the table, passing the chairs to join him at the counter. His head tipped gently to the other side when she approached, watching her from under his lashes, and she didn't halt the contented hum that rose from her throat by way of greeting.
While he passed her the powder blue mug, their fingers brushed. Even against the heat of the ceramic, the warmth lingered on her skin when he drew away to fill his own. They hadn't spoken about their conversation in the hospital, and she wasn't naive enough to believe they could forget what had been said between them, even if they might try to blame it on the circumstances. Wraith wasn't even sure she wanted to avoid it, at least not forever.
But for right now, he seemed as content as she was to let the newness simply grow between them. He leaned back against the countertop, one hand for support as he drank and looked at her, and she slipped into the space beside him like it was meant for her, and the mere inches between them felt right. For the first time in as long as she could remember, Wraith felt like peace was possible. Elliot's forearm was a warm line against her shoulder blades and as always he'd made her coffee precisely how she liked it, and the morning stretched before them with promise.
It surprised her, how easily they fell into place again, with a revelation so huge in the air between them, but perhaps it shouldn't have. Things with Elliot were always easier than she expected them to be. He really was something new, something she didn't think she'd find anywhere else, something she was beginning to truly realise she was lucky to have found at all.
When he suggested in quiet earnest that she stick around to play video games and kill an afternoon with him, she agreed readily. As it often had before, their afternoon turned into languid evening, dinner eaten in pyjamas with one of his movies on the screen, and night found her resting in his bed again, sleeping better with him near than she ever did alone.
~.~