Gillian is sitting in her car, trying to compose herself. She just can't get her hands to stop shaking. She'd driven towards Cal's house, parked down the street, so he wouldn't see her car if she chickened out. She's trying to build up the courage to walk up to his front door and say what she has to say, but she's stricken. She doesn't think she can do this. She's weighing risks and rewards and she's terrified that it may just be fifty-fifty. And if he says no, that could be almost too much to bear. She shakes her limbs as if ridding herself of the fear that clings to her and turns off her car. She has to do this. It's the right thing, isn't it?
Every step towards his door is excruciating because she's got it in her head that he doesn't want her. She feels it in his actions at times, his lack of action at others. But she wants to think she was wrong. Usually, it's the people we care most about that we have the most difficulty reading. It's with her heart focused on that hope that she reaches out and rings the doorbell.
It's not Cal that answers, but Emily. And she seems not to realise that right now, Gillian is not herself. She's tense and wound tight and she has to do something before it becomes too much and she snaps like a rubber band.
"Hey Gillian," she smiles, opening the door further for the older woman to enter.
"Hi Emily. Your dad in?"
"Yeah," she answers, but her brow furrows in confusion at Gillian's half-masked expressions. "Is something wrong?"
Gillian shakes her head.
"No, no, I just have to speak to him about something," she says.
Emily's not convinced, but she goes to get her dad as Gillian hangs up her coat and slips off her heels.
Her breath seizes in her throat when she sees him in his pyjama pants and five-o-clock shadow.
"Hi Cal," she says, meekness quieting her voice.
"Foster," he replies.
She can hear the anger he tries to curb, but she doesn't know why it's there. What had she done to upset him?
"I need to talk to you," she says.
She lets him see that she's nervous, terrified rather. She lets him know it's not an easy thing to say. But his anger doesn't soften into concern, he doesn't try to comfort her.
"I thought you'd rather talk to Reynolds," he says, bitterness seeping into his tone.
"Cal," she warns.
"No, Foster! Reynolds is-"
The second he says the words, he realises he shouldn't, so he stops himself. She'll hear the jealousy in them, even though he blanks his face and tries so damn hard not to feel it. She'll know and he'll see the disgust crawl over her face and she'll walk away from him. She'll leave him just like every other woman he's ever let himself love. How could she want to stay?
"Cal," she repeats, near-desperate now.
"You really think I didn't know?" his vioce is quiet now and Gillian can't figure out whether it's because he's trying to keep emotion out of his voice or if he knows. He could know what Reynolds is to Gillian, what she goes to him for, and just want to respect her privacy when his sixteen year old daughter is likely listening from the top of the staircase.
"You could've told me that you were seeing him. I'm meant to be your best friend."
She laughs dryly, almost sadly.
"That's not what it was."
"Then what the hell was it?"
"It was...comfort. When I was scared about you."
He looks so confused, so lost. But he had to have known that Gill cared for him, worried about him. And when he wasn't there, was off getting himself into trouble, she needed someone. Everyone needs someone.
"Don't be an idiot, Cal. You're always putting yourself at risk. You don't think I get scared?"
"But you-"
"Yeah, Cal. I did. Made me feel better," she interupts, not wanting him to say the words aloud. They both knew already just what she and Ben had done.
He sighs and she can practically see the anger leaving him.
"I'm sorry," he says.
She doesn't know if he means he's sorry for his accusation or his recklessness. She doesn't know anything when it comes to Cal Lightman.
"Are you done with him?" He asks.
"I was only biding my time," she replies.
"Until?"
'Until you,' she thinks, but she doesn't answer right away, but looks at him instead. She lets him see her affection, her fear, her shame. Then, all too quietly, she speaks.
"I was so scared, Cal, but I wasn't ready to tell you why."
She looks at her toes, chipped red polish and she thinks when she gets home, she'll paint them blue. She thinks he's going to ask her to walk away because he won't want this and she'll be so beaten, all she'll see is blue anyway.
"Cal, I don't know how to say this," she begins, tears forming in her eyes.
He knows what she's going to say and he's terrified to hear it. He isn't stupid. He knows there is no universe where he will be what she wants, what she needs. He can love her so fucking much, but she's probably just preparing to walk away from him. She probably just feels guilty because she knows her departing footsteps will crush him like the earth beneath her feet.
She'd been healing to him. She sewed up his gaping wounds, both physical and emotional. She was the only one he'd ever had a real talk about his mother with. She was the only one who understood him. He couldn't lose her.
"You don't have to," he says. "We can leave things just as they are."
She looks so hurt, he's convinced he got it wrong. But, he's not sure of anything. He's not sure of anything when it comes to Gill.
"I'm in love with you!" she says, tears cascading down her cheeks and the words are so heavy in the air, so raw and true and bloody terrifying.
He doesn't even bother to hide the surprise that passes over his face. He doesn't hide anything. She watches his emotions turn, through confusion into reaslisation. She closes her eyes to him before she can see what he feels in return, if he feels in return.
He knows now that all the times she looked at him so lovingly, it wasn't friendship. Her smothering concern, it was jealousy. Her fear was so much more than losing her best friend. Her physical attraction, well, that was the one thing he got right.
"Gill, look at me," he says.
She opens her eyes so quickly to the sound of his voice, to the emotions in it she's too afraid to identify. She doesn't want to open herself to rejection, to look on his face and put her fears together into truth.
What she sees when she focuses her gaze isn't what she expects, not at all.
And before she can fully comprehend it, he's kissing the breath from her lips, swallowing her doubts and fears.
"It's about time!" Emily screams from the top of the staircase.
"Get lost, Em!" Cal yells in reply.
He doesn't let Gillian go, crushes her closer instead, her chin resting on his shoulder. He brushes her hair back and speaks close to her ear.
"I love you, Gill. You an' Em, you're everything, better than everything."
"You're everything to me, too."
A/N: The end! Yes, I'm actually finished now. This chapter was actually so hard to write, I rewrote it several times and I still don't feel 100% happy with it, though I do like it. I don't know, you'll have to tell me if you think it's missing something. Thank you to all who've stuck it through to the end.