Work Text:
He hugged her on the day his wife died, exhaled fully for the first time in a decade. Buried his nose in her hair, rested his head against hers.
How inopportune, that she’d held him and it felt like home.
Liv, you mean the world to me.
Inauspicious, because she’d been trying to help and all he’d done was laugh, laced with incredulity and spite. Told her to back off in the very next breath.
I love you.
Inappropriate, in front of his children. After the death of their mother, his wife. After so much time.
In a parallel universe, it will always be you and I.
How absolutely true, because the timing has never been right.
Until now.
Twenty-three years come flooding back when he runs his thumb over each familiar dip and groove of the 6313 imprinted in the cold metal of his badge.
The stars are beginning to align; he can feel the gravitational pull of that parallel universe. It’s always led him to her, kept him anchored in her.
And he sees the shift in her demeanor. These days, her gaze lingers and her smile is more genuine. She fits her hand into his during quiet, private moments and while they are by no means on solid ground, she’s beginning to trust him again.
He’s said a lot of things; has meant every word. And maybe she’s heard him, maybe she’s understood – they’ve always been able to communicate without words – but he needs to make this abundantly clear. Because if, by some miracle, he walks away from this undercover operation, he will never again walk away from her.
He just needs her to know.
“Hey Liv, it’s me...”