Thank you for not giving up after the last chapter. Please don't forget that in this story Hank is struggling with his demons and the darkness that draws him in. And that he has emotional outbursts, that he doesn't act like you know him from the series. Kim is his ray of sunshine - but still things are not always as they should be and things happen that you might not want to imagine.

Chapter 13

For the rest of the ride, silence reigned between Kim and Hank.

No one said a word. Kim couldn't help thinking about the kiss. Not to mention seeing Hank, the Hank she had just experienced. It was a Hank she had experienced before - almost experienced. It was in fact him, a version of her sergeant, who had a hard time controlling himself. What would have happened if she hadn't stopped him? Would he have. . . Well, Kim didn't want to imagine it, not now. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to be alone. It took her a moment to realize what Hank had done. How he had touched her. There had been no tenderness in that moment. Not like the last time. Only pain on his part. His desire for something he could control. Her hands were trembling. A shiver ran through her body as she realized what he had been trying to do. He had wanted to replace his anger and pain with something else. With arousal, lust.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed, but at some point Hank stopped his car in front of the house where Kim's apartment was.

"Kim, I, I'm sorry, I-" kissing Kim had made him forget everything. The pain, the guilt. He hadn't been thinking, just giving in to an inner urge. And Kim had been there. She had kissed him too, at first. But then, when she had stopped him, he had only realized in that moment what he had done. And he wanted her to know that he had NEVER wanted to physically hurt her. Ever.

"Good night Hank," was all she said and got out of the car.

Hank looked after her.

What had he just done? Yes, he had just acted in that moment. Allowed his feelings to take over. But in that way . . . . He would have to control himself better in the future. He would keep his distance from Kim. Even though he knew Kim wouldn't let him. After all, he had tried before. He had kept his distance before. And then she had shown up at his door.

With trembling hands, Hank covered his face. Why had he just done that? Why? He didn't know. He didn't want to know the answer. He just wanted to forget. He wanted to forget that he had almost lost control of himself. That he had lost control to Kim. That he nearly forced . . . He couldn't finish his thoughts. It hurt to admit it to himself. That he had already slipped too far into the darkness. No one would be able to save him anymore. Not even Kim.

And then started the car and drove home. To where there was a bottle of bourbon waiting for him that would make him forget. That made him forget everything - including what had just happened in the car.

The next morning, Kim stared at her reflection in the mirror. On her right upper arm, one could clearly see the bruises that his fingers had left behind. Kim gently ran her fingertips over them. She winced, it hurt. Hank had hurt her. But not on purpose. No, he would never do that. Kim believed that. And he should know that, too. She would tell him. That there was nothing to forgive. But that she wanted . . . Yes, what did she want exactly? That he would talk to her. For him to express aloud how he felt. To control his anger better. For him to allow his own feelings. He would have to accept that she was there for him. That she wouldn't let him push her away. Well, not from him. Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. Even though that moment last night in his car, even though he had made her feel something like, well not necessarily fear, but something like that, she wasn't going to let him push her away. Kim would continue to be there for Hank. She believed she could save Hank - from himself.

The only problem was that it took until late in the evening for Kim to have the opportunity to do so. Till she had the chance to be alone with Hank.

It was almost like it had been the previous evening. Kim stood at his office door and watched him for a moment. She knew he hadn't put last night, the events, away so easily. And neither had she, really. When she closed her eyes, she felt it again. The way his fingers had wrapped around her upper arms, the way he had squeezed her. She felt the pain. And also a little uneasiness, but not fear. No, never. She was not afraid of Hank.

"Hank," she said then, hoping to get his attention.

"Oh hello, Kim," Hank looked up from his work in surprise. He hadn't heard her come in. Because if he had, he surely would have tried to prevent such a moment. To be alone with Kim. He was trying to protect her. From what he had done. From what he might do again. And he would do it. He would hurt her again. In one way or another.

Kim entered the room and closed the door behind her. Just in case someone did find their way here to Intelligence, she didn't want them to overhear their conversation. She didn't want anyone to draw the wrong conclusions. She didn't want anyone to misunderstand the words she would exchange with Hank.

Kim, however, stayed on the other side of his desk, so that it formed a kind of barrier between Hank and her. She kept her distance from Hank herself, albeit unconsciously, because she knew he would never hurt her. Not on purpose. But about yesterday, . . she knew he hadn't been in control of himself at that moment. Then again, he hadn't done anything, meaning he'd only kissed her. A little more passionately, perhaps, but . . Well, that was how Kim tried to justify it to herself, anyway.

"You're doing it again," was all she said, therefore.

"Doing what?"

"All day you've been hiding behind a stack of files in your office. Hank, you're avoiding me again."

"I'm just busy. There's a killer out there. And we're no closer to Al's killer, either," Hank replied.

Kim hesitated for a moment.

Yes, that could be an explanation. But she knew Hank. Kim could only guess what thoughts were tormenting Hank at that moment. Similar thoughts that had also haunted her last night. Last night, when she had lain in her bed, she had thought about what had happened in his car. How he had kissed her. How he had pushed her back into the seat. The way he had touched her. Kim remembered well the look in his eyes. His look had been - confused, distorted by feelings that she could hardly classify and full of arousal? Kim, at least, was not sure about that. But she had felt it. Felt him when he had pushed her back into the seat. And probably Hank had to keep thinking about it, too. Kim didn't want to imagine what other dark thoughts plagued him, but at least she wanted to lift that burden from his shoulders.

"Bullshit. It's about what happened in your car last night. The kiss and-" Kim walked around the desk and stopped directly in front of him. "Hank, look at me, please," she begged. And only when she was sure she had his attention did she continue speaking, "That thing that happened yesterday . I . . . That was . . Hank, there's nothing that happened that you need to feel guilty about."

"But if-"

"Hank, no. Nothing happened that I didn't want to happen. Really. There's nothing that happened. It's all good," wordlessly, they looked at each other. Kim could clearly see the unspoken question in his gaze. All the self-reproach. And so she nodded again to confirm her answer.

"Ok", he simply said and lowered his gaze.

"Please, don't push me away again. I want to be there for you. Just like Al has been," towards the end she had become quieter and quieter.

"This is not possible."

"Yes it is. You just have to let it happen. Hank, I know after yesterday, you want to keep me at a distance," Kim hesitated. What were the right words here?

"And I have every reason to."

"Have you always pushed Al away? So did you keep him at a distance when you were like this back then. When you allowed your anger to guide you? NO. And Al never let you push him away, either. He was there. All the time. He was looking out for you. And now that's my job."

Kim wasn't sure if it was really a good moment to talk about Al now. But apparently it was. A good moment.

"After Camille died, when I thought my life had no purpose any longer, he was there. Every night he was at my door. With home-cooked meals from Meredith or a six-pack of beer. . . . . . One time we went on a camping trip with Justin. Al was there for him too. He was just there, always, and now he's gone. And I, well," Hank broke off.

Kim looked at him for a moment, hoping he would keep talking. I mean, that he'd finally put his pain into words. That he would stop bottling it up and then have moments like these where he lost control.

"I miss him so much, I miss everything. The evenings in my office, with a glass of bourbon, and the conversations. Al was there, we could talk about anything. You know, there's still so much I wanted to say to him and I didn't get the chance. He's dead. And never again will I be able to talk to him. Never again will he be able to give me advice, never again," he then confessed to her.

Thoughtfully Kim looked at Hank. There was still one question that had been on Kim's mind for a while. Actually, ever since the day of Al's funeral. Only up until now, she hadn't asked him. Then again, maybe now was the time to do it. Maybe it would help him. Maybe it would take away some of his guilt. Maybe he would finally be able to look forward. In any case, it was worth a try.

"Have you been to his grave yet? I mean, did you say goodbye, to Al?" asked Kim then.

Hank shook his head. He hadn't had the strength to do that yet. He had not yet managed to say goodbye. To face his guilt.

"You have to, you should go to the cemetery. Al is still there, he can listen to you. And maybe that will help you. Do you want me to go with you? To the cemetery. Tomorrow."

For a moment, Hank just looked at her. He didn't know what to say. Did he want her to come with him? To the cemetery. To Al's grave. And did he really want to go there?