A/N Oh my god, you lovely people.
MrsChilton; you made me laugh out loud, 'it better be Barba at the door'. I would love to say it could have been anyone else...but c'mon it just wasn't possible. As thelisa17 rightly pointed out he wouldn't leave her to deal with this alone ...
Guest; I hope you didn't have to 'patiently' wait too long, and that the wait was worth it, thank you for the kind words.
Oliviatennant; Thank you for your follow and your review. I'm so glad the feeling of shock came across, and that you liked her reflections on Barba and sex in general. I hope you believed they were plausible.
Thelisa17; As always huge thanks for your reviews but also for helping me out with this. You made total sense out of the mad jumble in my head. You confirmed that it was indeed plausible that 'He may just stay in the bed with her until she falls asleep or something'. I had been worrying that it was too childish and unrealistic, so thank you so much. I hope you approve... I still can't say I have a plan where this is going, it's already 16/17 chapters longer than I planned so I think I'm just going to see where it takes me...
A sound enters my consciousness, I'm dimly aware it has been getting progressively louder for the past few seconds...
Shit someone is banging on my door...
I hastily rub the tears from my face, running my hands quickly through my hair and straightening my shirt as I leap for the door, before it wakes Noah. I can't help wishing that I'll open the door to find Rafael there.
I quickly check who it is, standing back in surprise when I see it is, in fact, Rafael. I check again, disbelieving, as if my desire could have conjured him out of thin air.
I click open the lock, stumbling with the chain, as I try to remind myself that this is not my brain's convoluted version of events, this is cold, hard, reality.
I pull open the door, looking closely at him. His face is pale, drawn. The confident concern I saw in the bloodied courtroom is now nowhere in evidence. I barely have time to take in the glistening, fear in his eyes before my own fears rise up again. I struggle not to see his blood soaked hands, as they were, images of the horrible carnage dancing in front of my tightly, closed eyes again. My head drops low as I fight the emotion threatening to reclaim me. His head tips down, as he rests his forehead against mine. Somehow this gesture means more than anything my addled mind could have summoned up, its reassurance, letting me feel his presence but not complicated by any other worries.
Shuffling feet behind him alert me, my head lifting suddenly at the perceived threat, as I slowly come to recognize there is no threat, we are still standing in my open doorway and the shuffling feet belong to one of my neighbours, making his way home.
I swallow deeply, my momentary fear having spiked my heart rate, dragging me out of the brief calm I had found in his presence.
I step back, allowing him to enter my home. He puts down this ever-present briefcase and pulls off his coat, throwing them carelessly, on a nearby chair.
"Liv, how is he?" he croaks, clearing his throat gently, to try to push the words out.
I struggle to answer this simple question, my mouth suddenly unable to form even the simplest words. I nod.
His hands now free of the obstacles that hindered them on his arrival, I see his arms reach for me. The comfort I had longed for only moments ago now seems imminent, but instead of falling gratefully into his arms, I quickly step back, grasping onto his nearest outstretched arm instead. I want so desperately to feel the comfort I would find in his embrace, but knowing I'm unable to deal with the emotions that would once more ravage me.
He seems to understand and returns the tight grasp I have on his arm.
As always, my brain, not content with my current level of suffering, chooses to remind me of how Erin Lyndsay couldn't allow her partner to comfort her, as we stood over the battered body of her best friend. I wonder if this was how she felt, how refusing yourself the comfort you crave, may help to somehow keep it all at bay.
I feel my body shaking. The reminder of recent agonies too much for my shocked being to endure, I start to feel a black curtain creeping down my vision. My legs no longer strong enough to hold me, I start to slide slowly towards the floor. I feel his hands grabbing me, controlling my fall, and then I feel his arms around me, his body supporting me. My head spins wildly.
"Liv..." I dimly hear his worried voice calling to me.
"Liv, you're ok...you're ok..." he soothes gently. "It's just all too much, you fainted...you're ok..."
That's how it feels, it's just too much. Like everything has been piling more and more weight on top of me, until now it has reached 'critical mass' and I just can't take it anymore. I can't stand up because the weight is crushing me. It's not just a mental feeling, it's physical, my body feels like it is being crushed. I'm exhausted.
My body is no longer limp in his arms, I'm sure he can feel me curl slightly into him.
He holds me tighter, soothing "You're ok...Liv. It's ok", his lips so close to my ear, that his voice is barely a whisper.
He is sat, uncomfortably twisted on my floor, his arms wound securely around me, looking at me, concern pulling at his face, terror in his eyes.
"I'm sorry".
His body protects mine unmoving, but his head pulls back, his eyebrows raised questioningly, his eyes searching for the reason for my words.
"Liv, why are you sorry?"
I can't find the words to answer him. The answer too all-encompassing, and deep to even hazard words at.
I can see his familiar expression, as he tries frantically to figure out the thinking behind my words.
"Is Nick really ok?" he asks.
"His knee..." my parched mouth answers, trying to make sense of the swirling, jumbled mass in my head.
I see the pain cross his face as he realizes that his life is not in danger but he may never be the same again.
He has no more words, he just nods, pulling me tighter to him.
As I sit, cocooned in his warm embrace, I know I am still in shock. The odd, empty, disconnect alternates riotously with overwhelming emotion. For no reason I can fathom, again, it feels like I am back in that desolate brick maze, tied to that table, him behind me. My breath hitches almost painfully in my throat, I know I am safely in my apartment with Rafael's arms snugly wound around me but I can feel what caused these feelings, the last time. This time its not the gunshot I relive, it's infinitely worse; it's the moment I have struggled so hard to try to forget. I can feel him pressed against the back of my body, the hard edge of the table bruising my hips as I feel his growing hardness. The tight embrace that was so comforting, is now oppressive, fear trickling through my body as I start to twist out of his arms.
He seems to feel the fear that courses through my body, and gently releases me, scrambling back a little to give me space. He reaches his hand over, stroking my hand softly, but his face betrays his confusion, his fear, and his agony...
I am dimly aware that he thinks I am afraid of him. I can usually pull myself out of these memories, almost two years of therapy has taught me how, but in my weakened, shocked, state,... I can't. Forced to relive the moments I thought were leading to my rape, I cower shaking on my apartment floor.
He seems to understand that I am lost somewhere in my past, he starts to calmly tell me that I'm safe, I'm in my apartment, that he won't hurt me...
His careful words, slowly, pull me back to reality, but it feels like the last year hasn't happened. It all feels so fresh. I can't do it all again...
I look to him, "I can't do this...".
"It's ok Liv. Talk to me, what did I do to scare you? I'm sorry, what happened, where did you go?..." he looks like he has a million more questions, but instead, takes a deep breath and waits, hoping desperately for an answer.
I don't want to answer him, I don't want him to know how thoroughly broken I am. It feels like once he knows, he won't want anything more to do with me, but I owe him an explanation. As I see him, discretely look down into his lap, worriedly, I understand. I can't risk him thinking that his body somehow betrayed him, that he scared me.
"No..." I shake my head emphatically. My dry throat catches my words. He quickly goes to my fridge, pulling out a bottle of water, opening it, sitting beside me on the floor, passing it to me. I take a long sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe my sore throat. If only my spirit could be soothed as easily...
My hand reaches for him "Rafael, you did nothing. You didn't scare me. You could never scare me..."
At the assurance that I was not afraid of him, he slides closer to me, his arm wrapping across my shoulders, his hand grasping tightly to my shoulder.
I take another long sip of the cold water.
"Since I got home...I think...I'm in shock..."
He nods his agreement, careful to not interrupt me, knowing instinctively, how hard this is for me. His fingers stroke my arm gently, where it lies across my shoulders, silently encouraging me to continue.
"I keep thinking back to when I last felt...this..."
I see the understanding dawning on his features.
"It feels like it's all happening again...I've learned, in therapy, how to stop it, but I think it's the shock...I couldn't..."
"You thought I was Lewis?" he asks, understanding, but this understanding brings with it pain, pain that I could associate him with that monster in any way.
"No, Rafael, I felt safe, calm...and then...I felt nothing, a horrible emptiness...like when I was in the granary...and I felt the table, the restraints on my wrists, I was trying to get out of them, he was behind me...pressing against me..." My hands close into fists, as I battle the images again.
Now he seems to understand.
"Liv,..."
I can see how upset he is, how he wants to stop my pain...
His free hand reaches across, almost without his permission. Softly brushing away tears I didn't even know were there.
"Too much hurt, Liv. I wish I could take it all away..."
"I don't understand Rafael, I was fine, like...then...why is it after, that it feels like I'm drowning...when the danger is passed...?"
He nods in real understanding now.
I take in his relatively disheveled appearance, how he looked like he was in pain when he arrived, the haunted look in his eyes as I opened the door. He doesn't think I'm weak because he felt something similar. He was shocked too. Not as people use that word all the time, as another word for surprised. He felt shock.
When I attribute the emotion to him, there is no weakness implied. How could he not be shocked? He saw a man pull a gun in a crowded courtroom, coldheartedly, unthinkingly, shoot a court office and a judge, he saw him threaten everyone before killing another officer and shooting one of our team...
He saw his place of work turned into a killing ground.
Suddenly my reactions that were so shameful and weak moments ago, are swiftly knocked into their appropriate position. We have just experienced a deep trauma. They were human, natural reactions.
I silently grasp the hand that had wiped away my tears, squeezing it tightly.
He squeezes it back, and I feel his gently shaking body.
The comfort I couldn't allow when I felt it was pity driven, was as much needed but him as it was by me.
Our shared trauma allowing us to be there for each other, when before I felt like I was only ever taking, selfishly, from him.
All doubt gone now, I almost throw myself into his arms, wrapping my own arms, tightly around his back, my head resting on his strong chest, as I had so longed for.
"I could have lost you Liv..." his strangled voice gasps, as he pulls me as close to his body as he possibly can.
"I thought he was going to shoot you, Rafael..." I mirror his concern, allowing my body to completely relax into his, as our acknowledgments of frantic worry for the other, soak into our battered minds.
I am sitting between his widespread legs, my hip pressed closely against him, my body leaning heavily against his, my arms wrapped tightly around his torso as my head buries itself into his warm chest. I feel his heart slow, gradually, from the frantic thuds that first greeted me to a more relaxed rate, as we cling to each other.
I start to feel my eyelids fighting harder with each blink, to stay closed, complete exhaustion overtaking me.
"Liv, come on, you need to get some sleep, you're exhausted" I hear him trying to rouse me gently.
"Come on, you need your bed..." he entreats but all I want is the safety I'm feeling now, in his arms.
He manages to somehow pull me to my feet, quickly wrapping his arm across my back, he dips down, his other arm snakes under my knees and he whips me off my feet. My arms slide around his neck as he carries me into my bedroom.
He starts to gently lie me down on my bed; I cling tightly to his neck, silently pleading with him to not leave me.
"I'm not leaving you, Liv" he softly reassures me.
Instead he pulls the chair over beside my bed, sitting into it before he again reaches for my hand.
Gratitude for his thoughtful, instinctive, understanding, floods through me. Instead I pull him back onto my bed to lie beside me.
"I trust you..." I whisper as he lies back down. I turn onto my side wrapping my arms around him as he pulls me over even further. My body now, lies half way across his, my head on his chest, his strong arms wound tightly around me, one of my legs between his.
I barely have time to register the warmth spreading through my body as my eyelids start to close. My last thought as sleep claims me, is one of hope, maybe I'm not completely broken.
The expected nightmares don't arrive as I sleep soundly, the only slight disruption to my sleep coming, as he slips, quietly, back into the pulled up chair, clasping my hand tightly as I curl back into his outstretched arm.
In my semi-waking state I try to groan my disapproval, but he is adamant.
"Rest Liv. I'm still here...I couldn't bear it if I scared you..."
I force my eyes open, wanting to argue with him.
His hair is tousled and sticking up, his clothes are slept in and his face has a red mark where my head had been resting against it. I reach my hand over to stroke his cheek, feeling the soft stubble pushing through.
As if to answer my unspoken question, of how he thinks he could scare me, he kisses my open palm gently, whispering "You're too beautiful a woman to be able to lie like that with,...my body would react to you, whether I granted it permission or not."
He softly kisses my palm again.
"Sleep, cariño, sleep...I will be here when you wake..."
My eyes start to close again, as I lie on my side, curling into his arm, his hand clasped tightly between mine. I cannot stop the smile that moves my lips.
Rafael Barba is attracted to me, but he cares too much to share my bed until I am really ready.
That thought lulls me back into a contented, restful, sleep.