A/N — this chapter turned into a behemoth. There was just too much to say. xoxo — kals

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Chapter 26 — Tom and Sasha

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Sasha rustled through the cabinets, looking for something to eat that wasn't either geared towards a toddler or Danny — not that there was much difference between the two from what Sasha could tell. Both preferred bland food, ideally in the form of meat and starch. Rios was able to slow Kara's labor down, with the goal of giving her a full series of steroid shots to help the baby's lungs, but she definitely wasn't leaving the hospital until after she delivered. And while Sasha had been happy to sit in those horrible hospital chairs last night and take her turn visiting with Kara and finding coffee for Danny, tonight Sasha suspected that the person Danny needed there the most was Tex.

Funny how easily Tex slid into the role of team dad, without any of them noticing.

After seeing Kara's face after Carlton and Rick offered to watch Frankie for the night so Tex could stay, Sasha jumped in to volunteer. She might not know much about changing diapers, but she also knew better than to let the kid loose in the house with a permanent marker and food coloring.

Deciding on chicken and dirty rice, Sasha dumped a double serving into the instant-pot that Kara swore by before moving back to the cabinet where she had stashed a bottle of wine earlier. Sasha might understand why the Greens didn't keep booze in the house but, right now, a nice glass of merlot was exactly what Sasha needed.

Sasha had just poured herself a generous portion when the doorbell rang. For an instant, she wondered if Wolf ignored her reassurances that she would be fine and came by to help. But as soon as the thought occurred, she dismissed it. Wolf might have rung the bell first, but he wouldn't have waited for her to answer.

First checking to make sure that Frankie was asleep in his crib, she kept her back to the wall as she moved silently down the hall. Stopping before the door, Sasha checked the peephole — and promptly froze. Because standing in front of her was the last person she was expecting.

Tom.

Sasha let out a long breath, reminding herself of what she told Kara only the night before. Keeping things professional was the right choice. For both of them. Taking a second to compose herself, Sasha opened the door. "They're at the hospital."

"I know," Tom replied, giving her a half smile. "I came here to see you."

"Did something come up at the office?" She asked, even though Tom wasn't holding anything that looked like paperwork.

"Nope. I was hoping that we could talk."

Uncertain how to take that announcement, Sasha took a step back, gesturing him inside before closing the door and locking it this time.

She headed towards the kitchen. "I just poured myself a glass of merlot. Would you like one?"

"Thanks," Tom replied. He didn't speak again until they were in the kitchen, Tom at the breakfast bar, Sasha leaning against the counter, sipping her drink. He was the one who showed up on her doorstep — well, Danny's but really who was counting — and she damn well wasn't going to break the silence. Tom swirled the wine around in his glass, studying it for a long moment before looking up at her. "I heard Kara was in labor. Baby coming early?"

"Yes," Sasha confirmed. "She went into labor last night."

"I didn't know until an hour ago when Andrea mentioned going by the hospital on her way home." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "So much changed while I was gone. When Frankie was born, I took Kara to the hospital. This time, I didn't even know she was in labor."

What did he expect?

Yet, strangely, Sasha did understand Tom's disorientation. Until that evening in West Virginia when the team sat out the celebration over Shaw's capture, Sasha hadn't appreciated how much Tom's disappearance hurt the people around him. This wasn't the same as a deployment, even one at EMCON that ran far over schedule. By disappearing, Tom broke their trust, and simply reappearing was not enough to overcome that breach.

"There's a reason for the saying you can't go home again," Sasha said quietly. "You were gone for sixteen months, Tom. A lot happened. People moved on."

"You could have knocked me over with a feather when Mike told me that he had a daughter. I didn't see that one coming," Tom replied wryly. He held her gaze. "Have you moved on, Sasha?"

Sasha cocked her head, ignoring the question. "Why did you leave without telling me that you were going after Shaw?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Tom began, his gaze shifting to the window. After a pause, he continued. "Mike wanted to go back to Norfolk when we left the Arctic. I was the one who made the decision to stay on the Nathan James until we had a vaccine." Tom lifted his glass, before setting it back down, releasing a sigh. "My decision sentenced Mike's family to death, Sasha. I didn't want to do that to anyone else. Especially not to you, not after what you went through in China."

Sasha sipped her wine, considering Tom's admission. Because Sasha had been told the story about the decision to turn the Nathan James away from Norfolk enough times to feel like she had been there, and she had never heard so much as a suggestion that it was less than a joint decision. Neither Mike nor Ross had ever hinted at any discord among the senior command and Mike never, ever, implied that Tom was responsible for the loss of his family.

Survivor's guilt, she guessed, because Tom's children survived, and Mike's died. She sipped at her wine. "So going after Shaw alone was, what, atonement? Or a suicide mission? Because you know we would've found Shaw in half the time if we were working together."

"Not a suicide mission," Tom replied quickly. Then he laughed mirthlessly. "I said that I went away to find Shaw, and I did. But I also needed some time alone in a place where nobody depended on me. I'm paying the price for that time now."

Abruptly, Sasha understood that Tom wasn't just talking about the crew. "The kids are upset with you too, aren't they?" She considered how Ashley and Sam would have felt about their father leaving again less than a year after their mother died. Sasha lifted her wine glass. "Good luck with that."

"It took two weeks but Ashley's finally talking to me again." Tom grimaced. "This feels vaguely like one of those AA programs where you have to find everyone you've wronged and try to make amends."

Despite herself, Sasha snorted. "How many people have you talked to so far?"

And for the first time all night, Tom gave Sasha a real smile. "After the kids, you were first on the list."

Deciding that this conversation was getting too intense for the kitchen, Sasha straightened. "Let's move to the living room."

"Aren't you cooking?" Tom asked, glancing around the kitchen.

"According to Kara, this thing takes care of itself. I just have to wait until it beeps," Sasha shrugged, then arched an eyebrow. "Have you eaten?"

The rumble of Tom's stomach seemed answer enough, even before he admitted. "My cooking isn't exactly something to write home about. Ashley asked for veggie burgers. Turns out that they turn into hockey bucks if you overcook them. Pretty sure Dad ordered pizza after I left."

"I'm making dirty rice and chicken. It should be done in about ten minutes if you want some," Sasha offered. She settled on the couch, curling her legs under her. It struck her how comfortable she was in the Green's house, after all the evenings she spent either with the ladies or the team. In some ways, this house felt more like home than her own apartment.

Tom sank onto a chair opposite. "Everyone's angry with me. The kids. The crew. You."

"Not angry," Sasha began, before pausing. Because she was angry. But it was also more than that. "Fine, we're a little angry. But more than that, we're confused. You left without a word, Tom, and you stayed away for over a year. You didn't tell anybody where you were or what you were doing, even though we could have helped you. And now you waltz back in and expect us to act like none of that happened? You need to give us a reason to trust you again."

His eyes caught her. "You told me that if I needed help, all I had to do was ask. So, I'm asking. Will you help me?"

Her heart jumped at the emotion in his eyes, but Sasha forced herself to take a step back. This is what happened before, last year. She jumped in headfirst, and she got burned. "Help you do what exactly? Because you know that I would never allow my personal feelings to interfere with my job."

"I never doubted that for a second," Tom replied instantly, and Sasha relaxed slightly at the sincerity in his voice. "I need help figuring out how to make things right with the crew. Yes, at work, but also as people that I care about."

"Sounds like you need a therapist," Sasha retorted.

"Fair." Tom leaned forward, setting his now-empty wine glass on the coffee table covered with trains and tracks. "How about this. I'd like your help fixing things with one person. Tell me how I fix things with you, Sasha."

They were the words that she had wanted to hear for months after Tom left. Yet, now, Sasha realized that they weren't enough.

If Tom wanted to fix things between them, he could damn well figure out how to do that on his own.

"If you need me to say that I forgive you for what happened last summer, consider it done. I forgive you, Tom." Sasha paused, sipping her drink. "But that doesn't mean I'm ready to pick up where we left off. You asked if I've moved on. And if the question was whether I'm dating anyone, the answer is no. But I have moved on. I have friends, good friends." It was only after she spoke that Sasha realized it was the truth. "I'm in a good place, Tom. I'm happy."

"I'm glad." The room grew so quiet that Sasha could hear the lullabies in Frankie's room. Then Tom sighed. "I screwed up last summer, Sash. I know that. And I know that I may have blown it forever. What I'm asking right now is whether there's any way you might be willing to give me another chance."

Alisha's words played through Sasha's mind as she considered what Tom might be able to do to regain not simply her trust, but her heart. Finally, she gave the only answer that she could. "I don't know."

"I am sorry,' Tom offered, and Sasha watched as he weighed what to say next. "Last summer, I thought that I was ready to start something. I wasn't lying to you. Well, I was but only because I was lying to myself about having dealt with everything that happened. And then it all blew up and the past came crashing down like a tidal wave. I should have talked to you, but I didn't. Instead, I escaped that only way I knew how." He sighed, looking up. "It's not an excuse, Sasha, just an explanation. I understand if you don't want to give me another chance. But I'm hoping that you will."

And even though Sasha knew, objectively, that the best course of action was to keep things professional, she found herself wondering if there was a way forward. Because she did understand that feeling of drowning. There had been moments during her time in China, before the cure arrived and she imagined herself under Peng's thumb until she died, when Sasha would have done anything to escape. And there had been times, in the middle of the night, when Sasha wondered whether she was ready to move forward with Tom last summer or if she, like everyone else, had been too traumatized to realize that she was traumatized. But understanding why Tom disappeared didn't mean she could wave a magic wand and erase the pain he caused.

And then it hit here — an option that would serve the dual purpose of helping Tom reconnect with the team and show Sasha how serious Tom was about getting that second chance. She lifted her wine, hiding a smile. "Since you asked for my help in fixing your relationships, I would suggest you start by swinging by the hospital after you leave here. While you're there, ask one of the guys about Danny's ten step guide to dating."

Tom studied her warily, clearly not fooled by her innocent tone. "You're suggesting that I ask Green for dating advice?"

"You asked for my advice. Take it or leave it." The instant-pot beeped before Tom could answer and Sasha stood. "Time to eat. If you do decide to go to the hospital, take the leftovers with you. The cafeteria food is terrible."

Later, after Tom left loaded down with to-go containers, Sasha found herself smiling as she washed the dishes.

This was going to be interesting.