8AN: Wow guys. Thanks so much for all the love! I had no idea anyone would even like this story so yeah you guys are awesome. Seriously though, thank you doesn't cover it. So yeah here's the next chapter in this little story. Hope y'all like it!
AN2: None of the characters are mine. Only the mistakes are. Yeah, yeah yeah..
The walk to recovery seems never ending. Holly's not even sure that she should be the first person to see Gail. It should be Steve, or Oliver, or Nick. But not her. Anyone but her. Not when she can't even stop the onslaught of thoughts and emotions that were making her sick to her stomach. But everyone had insisted and now she is being escorted down the sterile, white hallway that seems to go on into eternity. It's funny. She's walked these halls so many times, but never like this. Never as the traumatized family or next of kin. Holly's not even sure how she should be reacting. During residency she saw people cry, scream, even punch a wall or two. She always saw some kind of outward reaction. But Holly can't even react. She feels trapped inside of her own head, completely removed from the rest of the world. Usually that only happened in the morgue. She would get so lost in her work that it was almost impossible to get her attention. Gail used to make fun of her for it. Oh God. Gail. Holly told herself that thinking about her would be a mistake, but she couldn't help it.
She could still remember the first time they met. The body in the woods had been her first solo case and nerves had gotten the better of her by the time she reached the scene. Holly babbled when she was nervous and this time had been no different. It didn't help that the smart ass cop who had called her "Lunchbox", then tried to question her authority was undeniably gorgeous. Holly found it hard to look away from those piercing blue eyes and that cute little mouth that probably spat out vicious words more often than kind ones. She mentally scolded herself as she got to work. It was not the time to flirt, if she could even call that flirting. It had been more like inarticulate babbling in front of a girl who was obviously way out of her league. Her eyes had started to wander again. No. No more staring. She forced herself to focus on the pile of bones in front of her, even though it had already proven to be quite the challenge.
To make matters worse, Holly had been stuck with Officer Peck until the detectives at 15 had all the information they needed. She wasn't used to having cops in her morgue, especially ones who looked like Gail. Being there was a kind of sanctuary for Holly, a place to forget about the rest of the world. A place where she could be alone with her thoughts and focus all of her energy on solving the puzzle in front of her. Yet there was Gail, who had been a constant presence all day. Asking questions, taking notes, and throwing in a snarky comment every now and then. But surprisingly, despite the fatigue that had begun to set in, Holly had enjoyed her company and didn't like that the day was almost at its end. So when Gail started talking about cats and trees, it had taken her a second to catch up. She had never met anyone who used cat metaphors to describe relationships, never mind ones that made sense. The words had flown out of her mouth faster than her brain could process what exactly she was saying. Holly didn't talk about her sexual orientation with just anyone. Not that she struggled with it, Holly had crossed that bridge a long time ago, she just felt that her personal life was meant to be, well, personal. But with Gail it was different. Even though they had just met, Holly felt like she could trust her. The girl was crazy. There was no denying that. But there was something about her that simultaneously confused and fascinated Holly.
Because Gail Peck was a walking paradox. She could take down someone twice her size, but swinging a bat was a difficult concept for her. She was a tomboy with a shoe collection that belonged on the runway. She was a firecracker in red lipstick. She was strong, and powerful, and complicated. Gail Peck was a hurricane, beautiful in all her chaos. And Holly couldn't get enough of her.
When they reach the door, Holly isn't prepared for the sight. Tubes. Wires. Machines. Each one of them designed to keep people alive. She could tell you what each one of them was for, how they all worked, even the year they were patented. But that wasn't helping. Nothing was helping. All of those machines look far more intimidating when they're hooked up to someone you know. Someone you love. And Gail. She looks so small and broken. Nothing like the Gail who could kill people with a look just as easily as she could with a gun. The girl who had so boldly asked Holly to be her plus one to a wedding of all things. Holly loved weddings, she really did. It was just being in a room full of strangers that made her uneasy. But Gail could've asked her to the opera and she still probably would have said yes. She couldn't remember how they had ended up in the dimly lit coat closet together, but that wasn't important. That night, all she could focus on was the sound of Gail's laugh and the way her dress shimmered in the soft light. Holly was smitten. It wasn't the first time she had fallen for a straight girl, but this time… This time it was different. It was easy, and fluid, and comfortable. Sure kissing her had been stupid and impulsive, but Holly didn't care. All that had mattered was the taste of alcohol on Gail's lips and how that simple, little kiss had set her on fire.
The resident gives Holly a kind smile and tells her that she can stay as long as she likes and to let them know if she needs anything. Holly offers a half smile and a quiet thank you of her own. The chair in this room is bigger than the last one. Bigger and more comfortable. It would be perfect to curl up and read a book in. Wait. Why was she thinking about reading? She shouldn't be thinking about reading. She should have asked them questions. She should have forced herself to act like a physician instead of a victim. She should have been rational. There were so many things she should have done, but instead she had done nothing but follow orders as if she were some kind of puppet. If Holly had been the one in surgery, she knows that Gail would have kept her head. The cop in her would have taken over, just like it had countless times before. Gail loved wearing the uniform; it was one of the few things she took great pride in. She always said that she was a police officer before anything else. But lying there, stripped of the badge and gun… Holly had never seen her like this before. Never. Even though the two of them had already been through hell.
A hell that Holly had willingly let herself be dragged into the day a psycho with a personal vendetta against cops had decided to start running rampant through the streets of Toronto with his rifle. There was a freak on the loose and he was hunting them. Hunting her. Holly had never felt that kind of fear before. An all consuming fear that worked it's way into her muscles and threatened to suffocate her. She had to see Gail, make sure that she was still alive, still breathing. Within minutes, Holly was at the station with some lame excuse about dropping off an old report. It surprised her that she had even come up with one in the first place, especially considering the whirlwind of emotions that had sucked all of the rationality out of her body. But Gail had been so composed. She had just been shot at and here she was, calming Holly down. And that kiss. It was so unexpected. But God had it been perfect.
That had been the first night they spent together. The night that Gail had gotten drunk and cut all of her hair off. When she sat in the bathtub and drank bourbon because life had finally caught up to her. When she spoke about her time in the academy and what it was like to grow up in a family of cops. How she lived in constant fear of screwing up, of making a mistake that would cost someone their life. She talked about the night she was abducted. When Jerry died trying to save her. How every second of that experience had been carved into her brain. It was the first time she had ever entrusted Holly with the thoughts that haunted her every waking moment. The first time Holly had seen the dreams that tortured Gail in her sleep then disappeared with the sun, leaving no trace except for the faint circles in the hollows of her eyes. She never liked to talk about them afterwards though. Most mornings she acted as if nothing had happened. But once she did, Holly learned all about the psyche of a cop. Dreams of missing kids, suspects escaping custody, routine calls gone wrong. Dreams that ended with lifeless bodies and dead eyes. Some nights Gail woke up screaming. Other nights, gasping for breath. But some nights. Some nights Gail would wake up hearing tap shoes. And Holly soon learned that those nights, they were the worst.
It was the breathing that gave it away. The uneven, ragged breaths that pulled Holly out of sleep. She woke up to find Gail curled in on herself, muscles taut, eyes squeezed shut, her body shaking with the soft sobs she tried so hard to conceal. With each sob, Gail hugged herself tighter, wincing at even the softest of touches. Unable to think of an alternative, Holly spoke in the most soothing voice she could manage and within minutes Gail's resolve had all but vanished. She clung to Holly, her sobs filling the otherwise silent room. Holly felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes. It broke her heart knowing that there was nothing she could do. Sleep was supposed to be restful, a reprieve from the harsh light of day. But now even that had been taken away from them.
The alarm from her phone goes off, filling the room. It's 5AM. Time to get up for work. Is it really that early? When was the last time she slept? God she's tired. Maybe she should go home. Take a shower. Sleep in her own bed. But leaving doesn't seem like an option. Holly never understood why people chose not to leave this place, if only for an hour of two. Now she does. She can't bear the thought of Gail waking up alone. Alone and in pain and probably terrified. So she stays. And with her knees pulled to her chest and head against the arm rest, Holly closes her eyes and drifts off into a fitful sleep.