Work Text:
Mia Fey has a mug. If you look at it, you wouldn’t guess how special it is to her. It’s white and plain and something you could get for a dollar in a shop. It’s so bland and timeless that Mia can’t tell since when it’s been around Grossberg’s office before she picked it up and it became her mug. Back when she still used it, it was always filled to the rim with coffee.
The mug has a twin. It’s the exact same mug, white, plain, something you could get for a dollar in a shop. It’s sitting on a table near a vase. Waiting for someone to wake up.
Mia has a mug and it has a special power. It takes Mia back in time. Entire nights spent bent over case files and reports, the first rays of sun shining through the window waking Mia up, the comfortable silence in the office when it’s just the two of them in the dead of night, the tickling of the clock as Mia looked for answers she could only hope to find.
The mug is a reminder of what was lost. It’s a badge of courage. It’s a weapon.
Mia cherishes her mug. She keeps it like the greatest treasures are always kept. Safe, out of sight, like a secret; not because she’s ashamed, but because it’s so, so dear to her that it needs to be protected until she can use it again, until she can fill it again, with coffee, with late nights, with laughter. Until she can bump it against its twin again. There hasn’t been a drop of coffee in the mug since he went to sleep. There hasn’t been a speck of dust on it either.
Throughout the years, Mia’s mug was filled with much more than coffee. It was filled with laughter, with frustration, with anger, with joy, with excitement, with too much definitely, but never too little.
Mia has a mug. Shattered pieces of white ceramic on her office carpet.
Mia knows it’s a stupid mistake. She accidentally knocked over the empty mug while filing another Redd White blackmail file in her cabinet. It’s a mistake, it’s an accident. The mug wasn’t even supposed to be here, Mia placed it here temporarily when she cleaned her drawers and she forgot to put it back where it belongs. The mug only broke because Mia forgot. It’s a stupid, heart-shattering mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. There’s nothing more to it.
And yet, as she stares at the white shards, her heart heavy and breath held, Mia knows exactly what it means.
Mia has a mug.
And it just broke as if to say
You’ll never see him again.