The 120 seconds of not knowing changed my existence. It changed who I am as a woman, a wife, and a deputy. The two minutes from gunshots to my sliding stop at Chance's house of horrors is the eclipse of time that transformed everything. I've sat with partners who were banged up before. Hell in Philly you can't be a cop and not get hurt but I never felt as if the marrow was being sucked out of my bones as I sit and try not to watch him get yet another set of stitches. As his partner, his deputy, we place our lives in each others hands. We both signed the same social contract and we have both come to terms with its implications but I never signed up for this unexpected and unimaginable pain.
My eyes divert to the floor and I try to slow down my thoughts and put my physical pain aside to stave off the swelling of emotion. This is not who I let people see. I am strong. I can handle this. I repeat the refrain as the Doc mumbles something about a headache. Ok, girl, you got this. Just put one foot in front of the other. I'm fine until my finger finds the ripped leather from the 9mm that missed Walt's heart by inches and an insubordinate tear trails down my cheek. I try to catch it before his eyes find it but it is to late.
"It will be back to normal"
"Yeah"
I know it won't be back to normal not after this, not ever, it can't be our normal not anymore. As I hand Walt his jacket my face betrays me just as my tears. The feel of his hand on mine, the power of his touch, they comfort me as he takes me in his arms giving me permission to be a woman in love. The tears are unstoppable because I am safe in his arms. Safe from judgment, safe from harm, and safe in his love. At this moment, I know this is where I belong, because it is the only time I have ever felt free to surrender. Surrender completely.
At home, I worry about Sean and I worry about his need to talk about what happened. How can I explain my actions to Sean? How can I explain my reactions to Sean? I can't and I know I can't but it's not because I don't want too it's because I don't really understand all of it myself. I do realize at that moment, for the first time, that Sean will never let me just be. Maybe it's because of my job and Sean is right. Maybe it's the uniqueness of what we do which is why Walt understands intuitively what I need? All this makes my head hurt worse and while I know I should not be at work it is a very attractive alternative to fighting with my husband.
While at work, I know I have to have my game face on and don my emotional suit of armor which comes in particularly handy when dealing with an off the rails Branch. I don't want to deal with his dead man walking bullshit right now. It's easier to pick up the slack and head out to the crime scene. As soon as I step out of my truck, I know that shit is weird, just as I dreaded. The displeased look on Walt's face and the overprotectiveness that wasn't evident before makes me snap at him because it is what I do to protect myself from him and everybody else. I just need my head to stop hurting so I can fix all the shit I fucked up in the last 48 hours.
It's nice to have a piece of normalcy as Walt and I go over the case with take-out dinner. I didn't plan on telling Walt about Sean's demands that I quit and as soon as it comes out I instantly regret feeling safe with him because he is just like me and will retreat behind the safety of his steel walls. They come down crashing and I am left standing outside the moat like an idiot. This is why I don't do the vulnerability thing with anyone. This is why I hate myself for allowing myself to be exposed to him. I do hate myself for it and it just reaffirms why I should never ever allow it to happen. In the end, I am the one that hurts, and suffers for allowing myself to be soft. Nope, you had your chance Walt, and you blew it.
Waking up with Sean is nice and I want to love my husband. I want my marriage to work and Walt is right about one thing. Sean and I have been through a lot and the one thing that always works with us is sex. No matter how much we fight or argue making up is always nice. The words that have been hovering on the edge of my subconscious slip out and effectively end what marriage I have left. It's no one's fault. We just don't work anymore. Although, there's nothing promised on the other end, I can't be the fake woman any more having tasted the sweet freedom of what it feels like not to be her. I can't go back. I won't go back.
I sit and wait in the dark and still quietness of his office. I wait because I know he will be back. Like me, he has nothing to go home to, and work is solace. I need to see him. I need to see him with his defenses down and confirm that he played defense earlier and punted. My statue of liberty play works and Walt cannot keep up with my offensive maneuver. For just a moment, I capture his truth, a glimpse of susceptibility, and with it the full confidence that I am making the right decision for once in my life. I am solidly sure of who I am and finally not afraid to be her.