Chapter Text
She could hear him swallow and the soft clink of the bottle as he sat it down, or at least she thought she could, even over the ringing in her ears. Perhaps it was because she was so attuned to him. She’d tried to pull away, to sever the ties that knotted her to him, but as soon as he’d shown up at her door, she could feel the attraction as he drew her back into his world. In a way, she’d never really left. As soon as he’d drawn her back, she could feel herself synchronize with him. Her eyes found his, her ears could pick out his sounds, and she wouldn’t be surprised to find that their hearts were even beating in time.
Taverner had already been and gone, throwing out a final insult as she left. Holding her coat carefully away from the filth that Catherine was cleaning. Certainly, her hands would never have gotten dirty in this way, no matter what she might have done to dirty her soul.
She continued to brush up debris, to slowly bring order to this tiny little corner of her world and to her mind. As she focused on bringing order, hands were suddenly covering hers, trying to take the brush away. She resisted and tightened her hand on the brush for a moment.
“Enough,” he said, voice as soft as she’d ever heard it.
“Jackson,” she shook her head, eyes focused on his knee. The knee of his trousers was ripped. Maybe where he knelt to handcuff the monster. He’d need new trousers or these mended. He’d need new handcuffs, too, come to that. “I need to…”
“You need to eat. You need to go home. You need to sleep. You don’t need to clean up this fucking mess, at least not right now.”
She looked up, catching a whiff of the alcohol from his breath. “You need to eat too. You need to sleep too.” She’d deliberately left off telling him he needed to go home. Somehow, she knew that outside of his office, home was the last place that he needed to be.
He curled his fingers around hers, engulfing them. He was silent for a moment just looking into her eyes. He sighed, “This is fucking killing my ankles,” pulling her up with him, but not releasing her hand.
Once she was standing, she realized her ankles were aching as well, and she stumbled a bit, leaning on his arm more than she should probably and bumping into his solid chest for a moment. She also realized that he winced when she squeezed his hand. That was when she noticed the bruises on his knuckles. She brushed her fingers lightly over the purpling skin. “You need ice.”
He was staring down at their joined hands, “Yeah, well, none of that here. I’ll…”
“You’ll come to mine,” she finished for him firmly and turned to start down the stairs. She paused two steps down and started to turn back.
His hand went from hers to her elbow, and he held on tight, “You don’t need to go back there.”
“My handbag,” she explained, “I need keys to my flat.”
His eyes studied her for a moment, but instead of releasing her elbow, he let his hand trail back down to grasp hers again. “I can take care of the locks. You know that,” he admonished.
Of course she knew he could. He could have invaded her flat anytime he liked, just like he’d invaded her thoughts and her life. She turned and started back down the stairs, and he released his hold on her hand momentarily. As soon as they were on the street, however, his hand found hers again like one magnet finding another. He threaded his fingers through hers as they walked toward the ‘borrowed’ cab. He stopped short and looked at it for a moment, and for once, she could read his mind since it mirrored hers. If they took that cab, they’d have to sit apart. Instead, he turned to the street, hailed a cab, and sat back, letting someone else take them where they needed to go. Never once did their hands separate.
They made it to her flat in near silence. The only sound being the rasping of his calloused thumb as it stroked hers. Finally he had to drop her hand so that he could manage the locks with a minimum of fuss. So little fuss, in fact, that she was now a bit paranoid, until he pushed the door open without entering. He raised his eyebrows at her in question and shrugged, “I don’t need to come in if you don’t want.”
“I said you’re coming to mine,” she reached down for his hand. “You need to come in, and I do want.”
His lip relaxed into a hint of a smile, and he followed her through the door, shutting it carefully behind him and clicking the lock. They hung up their coats and scarves by the door. She looked at them for a moment, side by side. Somehow the only thing that had felt right since River had shown up in desperate need at her door. She turned back to Jackson and suddenly, the magnets that had applied to their hands now applied to their entire bodies, and she stepped into his arms. He pulled her tight against his chest, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
It turned out they just needed each other.