Work Text:
Another long day at work passed for Jo, another day went by that felt like it had occupied a year. The aggressive rumbles of the vast abyss above didn't support her downed stance. Rain beating down on the double glazed windows, obnoxiously intruding upon the now silent office. Eerie, isolated, alone. Everybody else had left hours ago, wanting to escape the building as early as possible, with it being a Friday evening, storm forecast and all. Striking flashes of lightning accompanied the thunder, alike partners in crime, causing commotion and disturbance to the local community. It encouraged everyone else to leave while they could, retreat to the comfort of their own homes, filled with the warmth of their significant others, all the things they loved. But not Jo. Home was too painful right now. At least with work she had something to focus on, the Vella case was still no closer to being closed, and that's all she had left anymore. Not even that mattered. Since she had gone, any passion Jo once obtained had been rinsed from her soul, evaporating with any last trace of her old self.
Yawning, she realised how exhausted she was. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Jo cant remember the last time she actually slept. Every single time she closed her eyes she was baited into a twisted nightmare. It always started out okay, Kate was there, they were together and they curled up together. And in the dream Jo closed her eyes, and when she reopened them, Kate had disappeared. And then the phone call happened. Again, and again, and again. Louder every single time it played. It was too much to deal with, so she reverted to spending her nights tossing and turning in their double bed. It felt like a king size now. Too much room without her.
Things would never be the same again. When she was taken, so was every last inch of herself too. That's the thing about situations like these. The pain never fades, healing never occurs. Like a plaster over a cut, she pretends to hold it together, like she’s dealing with it, getting over it. After all, she had Josh to think about too. Forcing a weak, halfhearted attempt at a smile over her features daily was a challenge becoming evermore impossible. Pretending she was coping infront of her work colleagues by conjuring up new leads, rereading the same damned postmortem reports in case she missed a detail that would unlock new answers. Only the more she stared at the size twelve font and diagrams of the wound impact, the more it appeared to resemble a bitter end to a novel. Everything coming crashing down around the innocent victim, ripped of the long stretch of life she had ahead of her. Now it was on Jo’s team to pick up the pieces.
A narrative all too familiar.
She couldn't afford to show her suffering, her pain. The relentless cloud of desperation and sadness that put a foul glaze over everything remaining in her life occupied a juggernaut strength. Constantly holding her down, submerged in the darkness with no sign of releasing. Suffocating. Yet she was so alone. No breath of air was refreshing anymore, it was all polluted with a pain enough to knock even the most tolerable queasy. At least the release of long hours could drag her away from the house, distract her wandering mind partially for a mere few hours before she was forced to return there. Without that, it’d be even worse. She couldn't tolerate being there longer than she had to be. Josh had begun spending alternate weeks at Marks, to help him cope, which indirectly helped Jo too.
She couldn’t function in that house without her.
She was never rid of her traces, there were elements of her littered everywhere. While comforting for her peace of mind, it made this process of grief so much harder to consult. Seeing her coffee mug decaying in the back of the staff room kitchen, the tupperware tubs she kept forgetting to bring home, which Jo always whined at her for as soon as she went to do the washing up at home and realised they weren't there. Oh what she’d give to give her a mocking lecture about those damned plastic tubs one more time. Even the blue pen she left on her desk that Jo had not been brave enough to move yet. She was there. But not really.
Moving her things meant confronting what had happened. Moving on. And that's what the DCI feared the most, the truth. The truth meant being honest with herself, and rhe thought of that sent an intolerable stabbing pain through her already weakened form, too powerful for her to fight.
She couldn’t face that Kate was gone.
Jo would never forget the moment she received that dreaded call, the piercing sound of her hysterical sobs still ringing in her eardrums every day that passed. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. Who would be so cruel to strip an innocent young woman of her life? Not just any young woman either. Her Kate. Too long they’d spent apart, endlessly pining for one another, sharing glances and giggles and touches that they swore were strictly platonic, but deep down they both knew the truth. Too scared by the prospect of a workplace relationship interfering with the force and their future works, they admired from afar. Until they couldn't take it anymore, resulting in their partnership and the beginning of what was meant to be the rest of their lives. They bought a house together, adopted two cats, and Josh began calling Jo his ‘other mum.’ Everything was perfect. Picturesque, like out of a fairytale. Jo felt like the luckiest princess in the whole of the land to have Kate as hers. They woke each other up with sift kisses, tea and toast. Comforted each other through their demons. Watched stupid late night reality shows together, laughing at They’d planned their future, growinf old together, and eventually retiring to move to a cottage in Devon, overlooking the seafront. Watching the world cave in, through every good and bad. For the first time in her entire life, Jo felt safe, secure. Loved and looked after. Kate and Josh were the only family she had. And she’d lost half of their happy little trio.
And what broke her evermore was the fact that days prior to her death, they’d gotten engaged. They were going to get married. Already writing the guest list and planning their venue, honeymoon. She was to be Ho Fleming, and finally escape the surname that haunted her being. Josh was radiating joy at the opportunity to be ring bearer, and Kate had just asked Steve to be her best man. It was all too raw. It was all too perfect.
It was as if the world envied her happiness, and the revenge was to thieve her of her everything. Now she was lost, endlessly floating on a sinking ship, destined to end in the same fashion as the titanic. A wreck. Glancing down through her blurry orbs, drained of all life, the glisten of the diamond on her engagement ring caught her eyeline. Sickness flowed through her, but she couldn’t take it off. It hurt far too much to look at, but it hurt even more to dare entertain its removal. Kate's constant presence was addictive, she hated it, because it wasn't physical. But it was still her. She wanted to forget, to repress while simultaneously wanting to remember. To wrap herself up in one of Kate's cardigans to replicate her loving arms that instantly evaporated all of her worries. To use her blanket and be reminded of the nights they spent dozing off enveloped in each other's warmth.
But everything was too cold now. She couldn't do it anymore. She yearned for her and she couldn't get her back. No matter how much she ran from the looming truth she was cornered, its stature intimidating her. Never before had she experienced such loneliness, such isolation. Feeling cold even though the heating was on full and she’d just finished her eighth latte of the day. Not even coffee did anything for her anymore. Everything was filled with pain. Even the school runs on her custody weeks. She despised admitting it, but just looking at Josh caused her pain. He was so much like her, it was uncanny. Jo hated the fact Kate wouldn't see him finish school, learn to drive, meet his future partner. She unfairly has to miss his childhood, his adulthood, his whole life. It was all so unfair.
But she guessed that was life.
Mind racing, tears fell. A tsunami. One, two, a hundred thousand. Accompanied by the acoustics of painful silent sobs. Hysterical. Papers went flying from her desk, scattered all over the floor, acting as a new carpet. She screamed, like a wounded animal, desperately yelling out for help. She was drowning. Hurtling a framed photo at the door, the sound of it obliterating only encouraged further sobs, increasing in volume the more they forced themselves out of her throat, they couldn't be suppressed anymore. She had never felt so small. She wanted to be held, be protected, by Kate. She’d stroke her hair out of her face, kiss away her stray tears and rock her back and forth, before they faced it together. But she couldn't have that.
She was gone.
Standing up, she staggered to the corner of the room, legs far too weak to carry her now. Crumbling against the far corner, resting her pounding head on the cold filing cabinets, that stood tall and proud, laughing at her, smirking. It couldn't be contained anymore. Past the point of no return, she howled, gripping the roots of her hair and pulling in an attempt to ground herself. Nothing worked. Nothing would ever work again.
Because she was gone.