Present Day
He was touching her.
Even in the depths of unconscious she could tell that, and not just the parts of her that had been forced through training and necessity to notice these kinds of things but deep in her core where regardless of time or distance or capacity she would simply always be able to recognize Jay's touch. Sometimes she was grateful for it and other times she thought it was messed up but she knew it better than her own. Certainly liked it more.
Her flashlight.
Her mountain.
Her Ranger.
Her home.
He was everything to her and yet he had no idea how much she loved him. How deeply, how intrinsically. Some part of him even thought there was a limit to it, and worse, that he didn't deserve her full love and he thought that because he knew she was still holding things back and took that to mean she didn't trust him to know. Trust him to love her regardless. And she hated doing that to him but… it was the fear. It was the same fucking one he kept soothing but it still kept rearing its ugly fucking head, every time she thought they'd cut it off. A damn hydra. He sure was Captain America.
The loss of his touch was what made her start to wake, first from the immediate lack of safety, then comfort, then the longing for him to return and finally the creeping knowledge that his absence was her fault. That thought was what had her eyes peeling open, and had them staying that way when she realized he wasn't beside her. Wasn't even all the way on his side with his back to her, something he'd done the other night after she'd been such a bitch. It was useless torture to stretch her fingers out and confirm the mattress was cold but she did it anyway, a sick form of penitence for the way she'd been treating him. And yet the worst he would do to her was put his back to her. And he'd probably felt awful about even that, which was why she would never tell him that it hurt more than if he would've screamed at her.
We are all animals.
Does a lion feel bad about killing a gazelle?
Can you still love yourself?
Could she?
That was what had her rising from the bed, sluggish enough that she knew she needed a shower to wash off the lingering high; again her fingers hesitated before turning the faucet on and this time her rush of breath came from a deluge that was icy instead of burning. Tess was tired of being destructive and that was before she remembered what had happened last night. What she'd done. Was it the worst thing she'd done? Not by a long shot. Was it forgivable? Yes, probably quite easily. But was it fine like Stella had claimed? Not in the slightest.
The ache in her chest grew stronger when she realized Jay was not in the living room, or the kitchen or by the pool or in the gym and when she realized it was barely six in the morning that hurt got a lot sharper. Then doubled when all Cas told her was that he was out. She took the lack of specificity as a hint and focused on figuring out what kind of baked good said sorry for grabbing someone like a startled animal, eventually settling on cinnamon rolls. Not because they were delicious but because she wasn't great at making them and considered it another form of punishment, though by the third batch she was getting the hang of it. Firefighters ate a lot and regardless of her guilt their sacrifice deserved appreciation. And as the time slowly ticked by Tess could admit she was waiting to see if Jay would return, all the anger she'd been burying the last week now firmly replaced with disgrace. It was mostly remorse but the small shrink of shame was undeniable, and was what stopped her from reaching out to him, from asking if he would go with her. He would, almost undoubtedly, say yes but this was her mess so she would clean it up herself.
No matter how awkward.
"Hey there!" Christopher Hermann was the first to greet her as she walked up to the open bay doors of Chicago's Firehouse 51 but his coworkers Mouch and Joe Cruz were quick to hurry over when they saw all the containers in her arms. "What's all this?"
"Cinnamon rolls."
"Oh well that wasn't necessary." Mouch said, while taking half, Joe giving her a similar broad grin as he took the rest.
"But greatly appreciated!"
Hermann snorted as they rushed off but his stare turned keen when he looked her over. "He's right you know. You didn't have to do that."
"I did though."
When his face softened she knew he understood, and sympathized, and when he motioned for her to follow she did, though they didn't get far before they ran into Stella and Kelly in the hall, the rest of the house already gathering around the desserts in the kitchen.
Counting, then arguing, over how many each of them would get.
"I'm gonna go make sure those animals save some for the others." The older firefighter said with an amused nod at the chaotic scene, family at its finest, and she was so surprised by the hand he quickly rested on her arm that she couldn't stop herself from flinching.
Something they all clearly caught, and which was no doubt the cause of the glare Stella quickly shot her boyfriend before shaking her head at her. "You did not have to do that."
"Yeah, I did." She said quietly, doing her best to give them an unpained smile. "I'm sure neither of us put up with alphahole behaviour but he was just looking out for you. And he was right to. What I did-"
"I startled you. It was my bad." Stella cut in firmly and while Tess wanted to push she had the feeling the other woman was just as stubborn as her.
"You were checking on me. Which was a kind thing to do. Just like bringing desserts."
Sure enough the firefighter quirked her lips before nodding, but the worry stayed in her gaze. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'm… I'm not a contractor." She said with a shrug, then another when their eyes both widened. "I was an operative. It's not a secret, it's just… an awkward thing to tell people. But apparently not doing so also leads to awkwardness."
"We get the pressures of the job. Whatever uniform you wear." Kelly replied softly and it was such a Jay response that she couldn't help but smile, that hope that was so dangerous flickering determinedly in her chest when Stella returned it.
"Come by Molly's tomorrow night. I put that wine in the fridge so it'll still be good. We can share stories about our alphaholes."
Again Kelly's expression was so like Jay's that Tess found herself chuckling, but still trying to ignore the tightness in her gut. "We should make them be friends."
"Done." The other woman said with a grin and thankfully at that moment the bells went off, two more kind, but slow pats on her arm before they were rushing out with the rest of their house, everyone calling out thanks for the goodies.
Another strong family.
The fractures in her own felt even more prominent now but alongside the sorrow for that fact was a steely resolve to fix it so she headed back to the apartment, by some miracle managing to hold off on asking Cas if he was back yet. It was a once in a blue moon occasion that Jay took time for himself so barring an emergency she would wait as long as she had to. Except she didn't have to wait at all. In fact he was waiting for her, sitting on the couch with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped together, his expression one that immediately made her knees quiver.
"I've been a bitch."
"To no one more than yourself." He replied quietly and when he tilted his head she went to sit beside him, kind of, resting her back against the arm of the couch while she drew her legs into her chest, giving into the urge to be vulnerable rather than the one to hide it.
This was her mess and he… He was her Ranger.
Her flashlight.
Her mountain.
Her home.
"Jay-"
"It's my turn to talk."
That… was not his angry voice. It wasn't his happy voice either, or the sad or the hurt or even the confused one. That was Jay's 'I am done letting you fuck around' voice and damn if it didn't instantly make her shoulders pull together.
His mossy eyes ran over her before he gave a small nod, his own shoulders rising and falling in a silent sigh. "Three hundred and eighteen. That's my number. I had Cas figure it out."
His number?
His-
"Jay-"
"It's still my turn." He cut her off firmly and her mouth snapped shut, her focus torn between the soft resolution on his face and the way he was absentmindedly rubbing his ring. "It's what I thought it would be, a little higher but I'm… okay with that. I'm proud of that."
The concept was a hard one for her to accept but the quirk of his lips told Tess he meant it. Just like his quiet breath told her what was coming next.
"When Arlo first asked for yours… I thought he meant the full one and when I thought about it more I figured it would be around a thousand. And that seemed reasonable to me. It seemed small."
Small?
He though killing a thousand people was small?
"But I was wrong. Your number-"
"Jay-"
"Is five hundred and seventy-eight." He finished evenly and she hadn't realized her eyes had squeezed shut until they were popping open and locking with his.
Five hundred… and seventy-eight.
She had killed five hundred and seventy-eight people.
And that was not a small number but some quick math showed it was only two hundred and sixty more than him. And that wasn't a small number either but-
"Fifteen years as an operative, over a hundred and fifty operations, more than anyone in the agencies history and you have one of the lowest kill counts. And comparatively you do have the lowest."
Five hundred and seventy-eight.
Five hundred and seventy-eight lives and she knew the majority of them had not been good people, or had been working for not good people and she couldn't hold herself responsible for their choices. But that number… maybe it was small comparatively but it's weight-
"But your saved count."
He just smiled when her eyes snapped back to his and the steady earnestness in his gaze cracked something in her chest and she didn't know what hurt more, that or the light that flooded in.
"You have saved three thousand, nine hundred and fourteen people."
The weight of that number was crushing and she buckled beneath it, quickly swept away by everything the pressure pushed out of her, rage and regret and soul-lightening relief. She might've gotten lost in it if it weren't for the anchor of his arms, his head resting against hers until the tide slowed and he lifted it, all that she'd felt replaced by his awe.
And his determination.
"You are killing yourself and you have to stop. You have to let it go." Jay said hoarsely, his fingers tightening like he could force her to do as he said. But he couldn't.
Only she could.
"I don't care what you are." He whispered, his eyes so bright- her guiding star. "Animal, monster, thing, it doesn't matter because you are good. You are a hero and a warrior and you need to give yourself some of the fucking grace you give to everyone else."
You are good.
You are killing yourself.
You are a hero and a warrior and an animal, a monster, a thing.
You are good.
His words were good, good and kind and ringing with truth but Tess shoved them all back, and Vivienne's and Noah's and her parents, every single person who did and had ever loved her and dove straight for the tiny voice at the back of her mind. The one shrouded in a darkness so depthless its light was all but swallowed up.
Her own.
What am I? She asked tentatively, the woman she'd become afraid of the answer but the girl she'd been resoundingly sure and she realized with the next cracks that they'd been locks and when they sprung open her heart was free.
Tess Danvers.
"Damn right you are." Jay rumbled, right before she was yanked forward and her mouth tenderly but fiercely guided onto his, not a kiss but a breath, a comfort. A promise.
Whatever end.
