Work Text:
Hen looks at Karen's sleeping form in the dim light creeping through the gaps between the curtains of their bedroom. She smiles tiredly, a too-familiar ache squeezing her heart tightly.
She knows she shouldn't bring work home but on some days it's impossible.
She lost a woman today, a mother, a beloved wife. She was Karen's age, the son Denny's. Bobby had to pull Hen off her when she couldn't stop. She can still feel the grip of his hand pressing into her arm.
Hen loves her job, usually can balance the bad with the good, but today, it got too close to brushing it off, leaving it at work and stripping it off with the uniform.
Karen murmurs something unintelligible. Hen swallows hard.
"It's me, babe."
"Come to bed."
Hen wants to. There's nothing she wants more in the world than to wrap herself around her wife, to allow Karen to comfort her. Hen can't erase death. She wishes she could. She can cheat it sometimes with skill and stubbornness. But not today, and it feels wrong to take what someone else can't anymore because Hen couldn't save her life.
"What's wrong?" Karen asks and pushes herself into a seating position.
'Everything,' Hen wants to scream, but she knows that won't help anyone.
"Hard day?"
Hen nods and drags her teeth over her upper lip. Karen lifts the covers in a silent invitation. Hen doesn't deserve her, but she's weak, so she slips under the blanket and presses her face into the soft crook of Karen's neck.
Karen runs a hand up and down over Hen's back. She's too tender with her, treats her too kindly and with undeserved patience. She's perfect.
The dead eyes of the woman she lost flood Hen's mind. They morph to Karen's and images of her wife lying lifeless on the floor.
Hen presses closer, feels Karen's pulse fluttering against her cheek. Karen's alive and well and safe. But it's not enough. It cannot be enough in moments like these.
Hen forces herself back and up, catches Karen's lips in a desperate kiss. Her love understands without words, runs her fingers over her shaved head and rolls Hen on her back, grounding her with her weight. Hen sighs into the kiss, hands clutching Karen's hips as if she were the mast on her tumbling ship in a stormy sea.
Karen is her anchor to life and everything that's beautiful. Maybe it's too much to ask, but Karen gives it all too willingly.
"I love you," Hen gasps into her mouth. "I love you so much."
"I love you, too," Karen whispers and pulls back slightly. "Wanna talk about it?"
Hen shakes her head. "Just... let me feel we're okay."
"We are. We're healthy and safe."
Hen lets out a single sob before she gets hold of herself again. Karen places a gentle kiss on her forehead, then one on the tip of her nose. Hen smiles ruefully. This too shall pass. It always does.