Chapter Text
It was absolutely unfair, Charlie decided. Unfair that even though she was no longer pregnant, her body still felt pregnant. And that included the random bouts of nausea at ungodly hours of the morning.
She was still used to the routine, though, so she was hardly surprised when she dragged herself to the bathroom at about 3 am to throw up. As she coughed and shuddered, she rested her forehead against the toilet seat. Her heavy eyelids drifted shut, just for a brief moment, and she heaved a small sob. She had never felt so utterly alone as she did now.
Her day job didn't afford her much opportunity to grieve, not really. It was only at hours like this that she had the emotional space to confront her feelings: that she had lost her child, that she couldn't save them, that she was no longer a mother.
Her circling thoughts were interrupted by a soft shuffling from down the hall. An erratic pounding on the door jolted her awake. "Busy," she groaned, but the door swung open and a frantic-looking Mike burst through.
"I said busy-"
"Move, I gotta-"
Charlie jumped out of the way just in time as Mike doubled over, heaving for breath as he vomited into the bowl. She grabbed a washcloth for her face, and offered one to Mike.
"You look like shit."
Mike took the cloth without looking up. "Thanks, you too."
"Water?"
Mike gasped heavily. "Yeah. Please."
Charlie nodded and stumbled down to the dark kitchen, returning with two glasses. "Of all the fucked up coincidences," she muttered to herself.
When she returned to the bathroom she found Mike cleaning up. She offered him a glass and invited him to sit with her on the floor.
"Withdrawal still giving you shit?"
"Mm-hm. Thought I'd be over it by now, but I guess it takes a while. I've been clean for about nine days now."
"Proud of you, kiddo! That takes serious guts."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. One day at a time, that whole thing."
"You doing okay?"
"Other than throwing up in the middle of the night?"
"No shit. I mean up here, in your head. Withdrawal's a real bitch, it'll mess with your head left and right."
Mike shifted a little and cracked his neck. "Yeah, I mean… I guess I've got a little more anxiety than usual, and not to mention none of this is doing my ADHD any favors. Mostly I just can't sleep." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he changed his mind and redirected.
"What about you? You doing okay? It's only been what, a couple weeks since… you know."
Charlie leaned her head back against the wall and shut her eyes briefly. "Yeah, I know. I guess my fucking body doesn't know it's not pregnant anymore. Still thinks it has to throw up at the slightest inconvenience."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, it's what happens." She leaned her head on his arm. "I still dream about him, though."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And then when I wake up and he's not there anymore, I just… you know how sometimes if you try really hard you can remember the tail end of your dream? I keep trying not to wake up at all. Just so I can have a few more minutes with him. But then I have to wake up and do my job like nothing's different, and I just… it's not fair. It's not fucking fair."
"No, it's not." Mike stroked her hair a little. "It's not fair at all. And I kinda get it."
"You do?"
"Yeah. I mean, mine are pretty much the opposite, but yeah."
"What are yours about?"
"Sid, mostly. And the hospital. And then it feels like I can't breathe, but I can't wake up either, no matter how hard I try. And it feels so, so fucking real."
He didn't tell her that sometimes he saw Paige, too, standing at the foot of his bed.
"Kinda like sleep paralysis, then? And Sid's your demon?"
Mike thought about it for a moment. "I guess so, kinda, yeah."
"Shit, that's rough. I'm sorry."
"No, no, it's not that bad." Yes it is.
Mike checked his watch. "We should probably get back to bed, then. It's almost 3:30, we got work."
"Can't we just call in sick?"
"Wish we could, Chuck. Then I could spend all day forcing you to watch all those stupid Westerns from the Bello case."
"Never gonna happen, Mikey Mike."
"Fair's fair! I had to, so should you."
"Yeah, you did that to yourself."
"For a case!"
"It was unnecessary!"
"It helped me get close, didn't it?"
"You coulda done it a thousand different ways, Sundance. You just happen to have a self torture complex."
"You have no sympathy, you know that?"
"Shhh- you'll wake Johnny."
"So? At least he likes my movies."
"He absolutely does not!" Charlie whisper-yelled from her doorway before quickly shutting it.
Mike almost protested, but he chuckled to himself and let her have the last word.
That night he didn't dream about Sid, or Paige, or Jangles. He didn't dream at all.