Work Text:
Through This. 1/1.
“Don’t make me start over, Andrea.” The words were cold and lined with disillusionment. The distance between them swallowing up the ocean and expanding out like drops of blood from a centrifuge. “Despite my skill at it. Don’t make me start over again.” Miranda swallowed against the rising fury she felt for her partner and the black cloud of foreboding that had hung over them.
Andrea turned looking at her lover of three years. Her hand felt the cold of the door handle in her palm as well as the arctic air in the room between them. She gripped it tighter as she took in the firm resolve in her lover’s eyes. The line had been drawn and the fight was to commence.
Three months ago it had been a question about their waning passions. Their schedules conflicted more than they colluded when the tides had been different three years ago. ‘Was the passion between them gone?’ Miranda had quietly questioned her one evening before a hurried dinner and packing session before Roy would drive them to the airport, before Andrea would once again get on a plane, leaving them.
Andrea looked at her lover and then away. She was lost. It was like when you find yourself awakened after having not known you were asleep and then you have to concede that sleep had come upon you. Her life had become robotic—a series of choices, assignments, and very little interest. The house, the girls, Miranda, the steady income—the luster was… Well, Andrea looked at Miranda knowing she didn’t have any words, but that this time that wouldn’t be good enough. The fact was that they hadn’t lost their luster—Andrea thought of them everyday. The blue of Miranda’s eyes, her hair that always drew the eye, the love she always felt communicated—even now as it was accompanied by anger and disappointment—there was always love.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she felt a cold fear wash over her as she recalled that previous evening all too clearly. Miranda had stepped forward. ‘You are a wonderful partner, Andrea. You are beautiful, smart, intriguing.’ In the face of their separation while Andrea was on assignment Miranda had dried her tears and consoled her. Miranda had consoled the very person hurting her heart. It was more than Andrea could bear. She felt guilty that she had lost herself into simply going through the motions, and to top it off that she hadn’t even done that very well. Looking at her lover, Andrea swallowed then and assured her that it wasn’t her, that she didn’t know what was wrong with her.
Knowing that Andrea wouldn’t elaborate and willing herself to be patient, Miranda had let her pack and only engaged in small talk. Only once outside of security did they broach the topic further. ‘We will get through this.’ Andrea had murmured against Miranda’s lips.
Blue eyes had pulled away to look deep into Andrea’s brown ones. Even then Andrea had admired Miranda’s quiet strength. ‘That means a lot that you said ‘we’.’ With that Miranda had hugged her close and kissed her before stepping away. The moment was past, for better or worse, and Andrea had to worry about her passport, shoes, and quart sized bag of liquids. Small looks and waves flittered between them until there was no more. Miranda rode the moving sidewalk holding tightly to the rubber handrail because she could barely see the plane out the windows as she made her way down the long corridor back to Roy. The chill of the evening excused her thick jacket, but not her large dark sunglasses. This farewell was harder than the rest as it drew lines for Miranda that she wasn’t sure Andrea understood.
Tonight it had come back. Three months had gone by, and by all outward appearances, Andrea had changed nothing in her behavior to indicate that ‘we would get through this.’ Instead, as far as Miranda could see, and her eyesight was not failing her in the slightest, Andrea was just as disinterested as before.
Andrea was stuck, as if between dimensions, with her hand on the door to leave for her assignment once again, or to stay and actually say something. The shame of not having anything to say for herself was nearly unbearable. “I do not want to have to start over. Your place is next to me and that should not ever be in question.”
Andrea closed her eyes lowering her head and clinging to the door handle for life. Love washed over her with Miranda’s words. They were not easy, nor were they kind per se, but they were absolute, honest, and irrefutable. Andrea took a deep breath and sighed out. “I see James the day I get back.”
Dr. James Brian Duncan, physician, had been treating Miranda’s family since he was out of medical school and training to take over his father’s practice. It had not been an easy transition for Miranda or James, but the twins and Jacob Duncan had helped them along the way. As Andrea and Miranda had combined their lives over the last three years, Andrea had started seeing Dr. Duncan as well.
In a flash Miranda’s mind summoned a multitude of reasons for Andrea to see James and she was around her desk and nearing her lover. “Andrea?” The hesitation as Miranda reached up, but did not touch her hurt them both. Andrea knew the damage she had caused and felt helpless to fix it. Miranda steeled herself for the fact that she still didn’t know if her touch was wanted.
“Lils, said I had 6 of the symptoms.”
Miranda swallowed this bit of news like the big bitter horse pill that it was, while Andrea just seemed dejected. Lily had been a constant source of disquiet between them for the entirety of their relationship. That Andrea had turned to her instead of Miranda hurt more than she could quantify, however if she had useful insight, then she knew she had to accept it. After all, Andrea had made an appointment, which was action where there had been none.
“Symptoms?” Miranda supplied after Andrea did not elaborate.
“Of depression.” Andrea’s words were barely heard but the flash of pain across her eyes when they met Miranda’s told her that she had heard correctly.
In a flash, Miranda had pulled Andrea to her arms wrapping around tightly, her body heat warming Andrea, and her words breaking her heart and building her up at the same time. “Thank you,” Miranda said, not letting her lover go—for the moment and she hoped not ever. Andrea wrapped her arms around Miranda relaxing into the familiarity and strength of the moment between them. When she pulled back, Miranda let her blue eyes search Andrea’s, saddened when she couldn’t find the spark. “We will get through this.” Miranda quoted Andrea’s words of three months prior, both assuring and asking in the same breath of efficiency.
“We will.” Andrea pulled her lover to her, hoping against hope that there were answers somewhere. She wanted her life; she just wanted to feel alive in it.
Fin.
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