Chapter 8 – Desolé
Essential Listening – Desolé, by Damien Rice
0o0
She wasn't entirely certain how she'd ended up on this street of all streets. She'd left Morgan at the bar, probably later than she should have, and started the long walk back. The heavens had opened about ten minutes later, but Grace had trudged on. The rain didn't bother her all that much, and tonight it had the added bonus of hiding her features from passers-by.
She knew that she had been crying, but only in that red-eyed, sore-throated kind of way – after the fact. She had meandered through the deserted FBI training campus, detouring through Hogan's Alley just to take up more time. Eventually, she had passed right by her own door, feeling restless and hopelessly lonely.
She remembered riding the Amtrak into Fairfax, watching the woods flash past with some half-formed idea of finding a place to eat. The rain hadn't let up as she'd left the station, wandering right past the door of every single restaurant and diner in the town. Her shoes squeaked wetly as she climbed the stairs of the apartment block, knocking on the door before she lost her nerve and walked all the way back to Quantico.
She was seriously considering doing just that when the door opened a crack, spilling warm, yellow light into the cold hall.
"Hi," she said, shyly. "Sorry. I know it's late…"
Reid stared at her, standing despondent and red-eyed in his hallway, dripping on the tiled floor.
"You're soaking wet," he said, opening the door a little wider.
Grace sniffed, aware of what a mess she must look.
"Come on," he said, stepping back to let her in.
0o0o0o0
Aaron walked up the driveway, hoping that the inhabitants were home. The large, white envelope in his jacket crackled softly as he knocked on the door. It felt oddly heavy somehow, weighing him down despite its apparent mass.
He hoped that he was doing the right thing – hoped that it would actually help the boy. He knew that if their positions had been reversed, he would have wanted someone to do the same for Jack.
He took a deep breath as a shape moved towards the front door, distorted by the frosted glass.
This was something that he had to do.
The right thing.
The door opened a crack and the woman behind it stared at him.
Even though he was off-duty, he held up his badge like a talisman.
"Mrs Abby?"
0o0o0
Happy Yuletide folks – thought I'd give you a double feature this week! I'll be back in the new year – watch this space around the end of January. Hope you all have a fabulous time at whatever celebration you end up at :D
Update: So writing AGVoS took longer than I thought. I have most of the next MoG written up and waiting, so I'll start posting it soon, I promise! Watch this space ;)