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Juliet was sitting motionless on the couch, staring at nothing. Her hands sat limply in her lap. She looked tired. Exhausted. Like she’d lived a million years but still had to go on for a million more.
Carlton sighed to himself and returned his attention to the item in front of him. A skillet with some eggs in it, that he was trying very hard to fry perfectly. He knew it was stupid, but the idea of presenting Juliet with a fried egg with a broken yolk seemed like adding insult to injury. His partner was 5 feet away, broken, nearly killed at the hands of a serial killer.
Yin, that - that fucker -
Carlton’s hand was white from the force of gripping the spatula. He shook his head and loosened his grip. He had to keep it together for his partner’s sake. He finished his task and assembled a plate with a couple fried eggs and a piece of toast. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had in the fridge that didn’t need to be brined and smoked.
Juliet blinked and looked down at the plate as he set it in front of her on the coffee table. “You made me eggs,” she said, her voice cracking slightly from overuse.
Carlton shrugged and sat next to her on the couch. Juliet didn’t make a move towards the eggs.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Carlton said, feeling helpless. Finding her and saving her when she had been in trouble was one thing - that was a definable action that he knew how to handle. But this? He never had to deal with this. They handed out information packets to victims, with phone numbers they could call, then they walked away. But Carlton couldn’t walk away from Juliet.
“They’re gonna get cold,” he said, aiming for light-hearted chiding.
Juliet picked up the fork and looked at it. She sniffled, but then took a watery breath and wiped at her eyes. She used the fork to cut a small piece of fried egg from the rest, speared it, and brought it to her mouth. She chewed slowly, and swallowed it. “Carlton,” she said his name softly, not quite a question.
“Yeah?”
“This is the best egg I’ve ever eaten.” Juliet laughed, then took another bite.
Carlton grinned as she dove in and ate everything on the plate. Afterwards, her face looked as if there was some more color and life to it. He knew it wouldn’t be easy for her; he knew it was impossible to live through a trauma and come out 100% on the other side. But he knew in that moment that she would get through it, and she would be stronger for it.
Juliet set her fork down on her now-empty plate, and gave him a half-smile. “I can’t tell you what this means to me, Carlton,” she said softly.
“They’re just eggs,” he smiled at her.
“No… not the eggs,” Juliet replied.
“I know,” Carlton said, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “O’Hara?”
She looked at him. “Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you, partner.”
Juliet smiled.