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She didn't expect her night to end with Leon spending it at her apartment. He offered, after their long day with the events at Alcatraz, for her to come over and for them to shoot the shit at his place. She denied, saying that her place is closer. He agreed—she wasn't expecting him to agree.
Things have been rocky with the two of them over the past seven years, ever since their blunder in D.C. They've chatted, but their friendship has never been quite what it was. Both parties too scared to actually sit down and discuss their feelings, and admit that one (or both) of them are in the wrong.
She misses him, though, and she can only hope that he feels the same. His presence in her life has always been a comforting one. And she's had too little of the nicer things in life lately.
She fumbles through her fridge, and finds two sodas for the both of them. They'd been talking for the last couple of hours, and should go to bed..but the rapport between the two of them is too good to let the opportunity pass. Though, they skim around heavier subjects, despite knowing they do need to touch on them.
The fridge closes behind her as she carries the sodas over. She hands him one, takes a seat, and pops hers open.
"You feeling okay?" He knocks his leg against hers. "Looking a little…"
"Rough, I know. 'm feeling it. The downsides of being chronically ill. Can go through a job and be just fine, and come home and completely crash. Like…'my body hurts and I can barely move, I've got a splitting headache' kind of crash. It's not fun," she grumbles, frowning at the thought of said impending crash.
"You're chronically ill?" He looks baffled. "Never would have guessed."
"Don't judge a book by its cover. Besides, I've lived this way for a while, and unfortunately will never get better, so I just have to live with it," she shrugs. "I can power through it."
"I know. I hate that for you though," he frowns. "You hurting right now?"
"Incredibly," she nods.
"Why didn't you say something? I don't have to come over. You should rest," he scolds, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and touch her arm.
"Because…I didn't want to be babied. And, maybe I just wanted to spend time with you. That so hard to believe?" She can't help but roll her eyes, taking another sip of her soda. "I didn't allow you over just for you to scold me. It's supposed to storm tonight, I'd rather not kick you out."
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry," he huffs. "I'm just worried. I won't baby you, I promise. But, I care about you. I always have, and I'm going to worry about you."
"I just don't understand why…" she fidgets with her pants for a moment. "We haven't really been talking much these past couple of years. Only really started seeing each other again when you emailed me about meeting up with Sherry. Why do you still care about me?"
He reaches out, and touches her hand, gently grasping it. His eyes focused on her face to gauge for discomfort. "I care about you, not because I think I have to, or because I pity you—but, because I want to. Despite our conflict in the past, and our differences. I want to."
"Then why didn't you invite me to hang out before?" She asks, her voice soft. Unsure. Like she doesn't know whether to trust his kindness.
"I wanted to, trust me. I just…"
"Thought I was too bitter with you still," she fills in for him. "To be fair…I think I still am. I'm trying to not be anymore, but it's hard when someone breaks my trust like you did."
She almost can't look at him, scared she'll take one look at those sweet eyes of his, and cave. For a man so large, he shouldn't look so…soft.
But, she has to. She has to face this problem like an adult.
"I'm sorry, Claire. I never meant to hurt you," he admits.
"Then why'd you do it?" It's a stupid question, but she's still so…hurt.
"I…" he starts, pausing to mull over his words. "I wanted to protect you—protect others. If that information had got out, it could hurt people. It could hurt you. When people get scared, they turn on each other, and with information like that being released you wouldn't have been safe. I couldn't risk that. I just didn't…didn't want things to go the way they did. I was looking forward to having dinner with you."
"I…know. I was too," she stands, starting to pace. Her whole body feeling jittery, not from caffeine consumption—but from nerves. "But, you should have let me know. Or we should have at least tried to come to an agreement. People deserved to know the truth. And I deserved to have the choice whether or not I could be able to release it. If I had maybe known your reasoning beforehand, I might have considered—but, you didn't even give me the choice.
You've barely spoken to me in years because you've feared my ire. Or maybe just feared my response period. It hurt my feelings that you just neglected to even reach out until just recently. And, I realize that I could have reached out too, ok? You don't even need to mention it, because I feel guilty for that, and I know I should have. But, trust and friendship is a two way street. You broke mine."
He can see her body trembling, and the tears beading in the corners of her eyes. He doesn't know if it's from pain or her emotions, but it makes him feel awful at the sight of it. She just keeps pacing and pacing, he sees her breathing getting more ragged as she continues to work herself up. He didn't know that this topic would cause this reaction, though he supposes that's part of the reason why they've stayed away from each other for so long—because the topic is unpleasant.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, his fingers itching to reach out and grab hers once more. "Claire…I never meant to break your trust. I hate myself every time I see you, for the way I know I made you feel. You deserve someone who will be honest and forthright with you, and I don't know if I can be that. But, I want to be there for you. I want to be your friend again. Or…something."
She lets out a ragged breath, pausing in her step. "Or something?"
"I mean I've always been…head over heels for you," he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That's the whole reason I asked you out all those years ago."
"But what about-"
"Ada? Yeah, I still care about her, but not the same way anymore. She has a partner now, surprisingly enough, and I'm happy that she has someone that cares about her. But, you've always been someone who I've viewed as my other half. Someone who I've cared about deeply, and only wanted the best for. I don't care if I have to beg for your friendship back, I will if I need to, but please just let me be there for you again."
She can tell he's got the puppy-dog eyes turned up to the max, and she's never seen him look so vulnerable. "I want to forgive you so badly, and I think on some level I have, but I still need time. To learn to trust you again. You've gotta earn it."
"Ok," he nods. "I'll do anything, I promise. I just don't want things to go back to how they were."
She smiles slightly, putting a hand out to steady herself. The world spinning around her. "Shit," she hisses, leaning against the wall for a moment.
He hops up, immediately fretting over her. Coming over and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, what's going on?"
"I'll be ok. Just…" she inhales shakily. "Got myself too worked up, and the pain is getting to me a little. Don't worry, seriously."
"You've been shaky on your feet for the past few minutes, and you almost just passed out. Sit down, please," he breathes, gently rubbing her shoulder. "Don't tell me not to worry about you. I care about you, of course I'm going to worry."
"'m just a little lightheaded, that's all," she waves him off. Only to sway a moment later, the edges of her vision turning black. Her legs buckle under her and she registers him catching her before she hits the ground.
"Claire?" He all but whines, lifting her in his arms. "Dammit, talk to me. Tell me what you need."
"Mm," she groans, her words slurred. "Put me down, I'll be fine."
"You're slurring your words, and you're swearing. You can barely stand on your own two feet," he carries her towards her bed. "So, no, I'm not just gonna believe you're fine."
He sets her down, pulling the blanket over her, and propping her on the pillows. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere," he brushes his hand over her hair, smoothing it back.
She watches as he walks off, and disappears from the room. He's gone for a few minutes, and she can't help but want to get up and search for him. Or just get up period. She doesn't like feeling helpless, never has—and she does right now.
He comes back a few moments later, with a washrag in hand, and a cup of water. "I brought you a wet washrag, and some water. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to grab some medicine for you, as I'm not sure to grab, but I figured I could at least do this."
He takes a seat next to her, feeling her forehead with a frown. "You're feverish. You're getting your ass kicked by this, aren't you?"
She hums in acknowledgment. The feeling of dizziness, nausea, and this unbearable ache in her body from pushing herself, crept up on her all too quickly. Now she feels awful, and vulnerable, and she hates it. He dabs at her forehead with the rag gently, and then places it against it.
"Do you need any water? Or do you want me to get medicine?" He coaxes, grabbing one of her hands—his thumb smoothing over her knuckles. "I'll do anything. Just don't make me leave you. Can't do that on good conscience."
Her eyelashes flutter, and she shudders. "Not really much I can do but sleep it off, unfortunately. If you're not willing to leave, then just get in bed with me. Better than having t'worry about coming back and forth constantly."
"You don't mind?" He glances over at the narrow bed space that they could share. "I could…take the couch?"
She shakes her head. "No, just get in bed. I'm sure you don't want me getting up and down, and I don't want to call for you every time I need you. So…get in bed."
"Okay," he can't help but let out a quiet chuckle. He slips his shoes off, coming around to the other side of the bed, and sliding in. "You sure you don't need anything else?"
"Mhm," she pulls the blanket up under her chin, curling on her side. "Said I'll be okay."
It's quiet for a few moments, he lays there as still as he can. Hoping that she doesn't suddenly decide to kick him out.
He hears her let out a soft, almost imperceptible whimper, and his heart aches. "'s cold," she groans.
"Do you have enough blanket?" He broaches, his voice gentle.
"I don't know…I just can't get warm. And everything hurts, and-" she sniffles, palming at her eyes. "I hate living like this."
"Can I touch you?" He asks, grimacing when he realizes how weird the sentence sounds. "Sorry, not in a…weird way. I just want to warm you up."
She hesitates, before nodding. The statement would be weird under any other circumstances, but she knows he has good intentions.
He pulls her towards him, resting a hand over her hip. She buries her face against his chest, snuggling up against him like it's routine. "Better?" He whispers, his thumb sliding back and forth over her hip.
"Warm…" she grumbles, one of her hands balling in his shirt. "You're nice 'n warm."
"And you…" he presses a small kiss to her forehead, wincing when he hears her whine. "Are feverish. So of course I'm warm to you."
"'m sorry," she croaks, nuzzling her face against his neck. He can feel the tears dampening his skin and shirt.
"For what?"
"This isn't how I wanted the night to go. I didn't want you to see me…like this. I feel so stupid," she admits. "I feel too vulnerable. And stupid for letting you into my bed like this. I can handle it most nights, but it's just so much worse tonight."
He opens his mouth to reassure her but she keeps speaking. "I wanted to spend time with you like we used to, because I missed you so much. I missed your company, and whatever we had going on back then. You were my best friend, and I cared…I still care about you. I wanted you to care about me like how I care about you."
"And how's that?"
"The way you cared about Ada. The way you fawned over her. That's the way I feel about you. 'n I know it's foolish and stupid, and I know you don't feel the same way. But I can't help it. You're so wonderful, and so kindhearted, and so…so stubborn," she sob-laughs. "I think I love you. And I think I've always been in love with you. I just was scared to admit it because you were so into her back then, and I could never hold a candle to that. To her. But, really? I don't blame you, she's gorgeous—and so much more sure of herself than I am."
"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself," he croons, shaking his head. "You are important to me. So important. I think on some level, I've always loved you. Though maybe not the same way. But, I think I have the capacity to love you the same way.
I wish you would have told me, and I'm sorry for not noticing how you felt before. You brighten up my life, and I've missed that so much. Missed you. I wanted so badly to reach out, but I was scared. Because you made me feel so vulnerable, and I felt so bad for everything that happened between us. I just…couldn't. But that was stupid, and childish, and I should have."
He can feel her body shaking, but not from the fever or pain, but rather from sobs. His heart cracks at the sound of them, and all he can do is hold her closer. "You are so worth it, Claire. So worth it. I would take back everything I did, just so I didn't make you feel this way. Like you aren't worth it. I want to spend more days in bed with you like this, holding you. I want to be a source of comfort for you. And I know it's a lot to ask since we're just coming back into each other's lives but I just…can't help it."
"Really?" She blinks through her tears, looking up at him.
He nods. "Of course," his voice is thick and hoarse. "I've always wanted to be with someone, to hold someone like this. It wasn't until more recently, I suppose, that I found out it's you. I thought about you a lot back then, and still do. I'm so happy that we're talking again, and I want more than anything for our friendship to strengthen and possibly even further. I'm so glad you've given me a chance again."
She lets out a soft, incoherent noise against his skin. She's having a bit of a hard time articulating what she wants to say, or what she's thinking. Every part of her hurts, and is overwhelmed, and so, so tired.
"What?"
She lifts her head, her eyes half-lidded, and her face twisted in pain. "…said I don't know why you want to still be friends with me. I'm nowhere near you and Chris's level, I'm not nearly as talented as you. It feels like all I do is slow you all down. Then, shit like this happens, and I should be able to hold it together. I've held it together my whole life, and one mission shouldn't change that."
He moves his hand to cradle her face. "Hey, look at me." He waits until she does so. "You are human. You're allowed to fall apart. Chris, Jill, and the rest of us don't think you're weak, we don't think you're a burden. You're incredible, you and Rebecca help people in a way the rest of us can't. Just because you don't do the same things as us doesn't mean you're not as talented."
"But…"
"No. Quit beating yourself up. I said I want to be your friend, and I meant it. I still do. I want to be more than that, but I don't want to rush things. And I hate that you feel so awful all the time. I hate that your body doesn't agree with you, and that you have to power through that. But, you can't be strong all the time. Friends…or whatever else…are there for each other during their rough times," he brushes his thumb over her cheek, wiping at a tear. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you before. And that you feel you have to hide it because you don't want people to think you're weak. Trust me, I know the feeling. But, it's okay to rely on people. On me."
"Y'mean it?" He nearly melts at the teary, wide-eyed look on her face. Wanting to hold her as close as possible and reassure her that he means what he's saying. He hates how scared she looks. Not of him, but at the thought of exposing this part of herself to him. That he'll think less of her for it.
He nods, and she leans back into him, her face buried into the crook of his neck. "Of course I do. I'll say it as many times as I need to, and I'll ask as many times as I need to, to make you believe that I care for you and I want you to forgive me. You're so wonderful, Claire. So incredibly sweet, and kind, and god—so beautiful.
You're one of the best things in my life, and I don't ever want you to leave it again. I want to help you during these times especially, when you're not feeling well—but I want to help you all the time, too. Even if you don't need it. You've helped so many other people, including me. And I think you deserve that paid back in kind."
"You're so full of shit," she huffs, nosing his neck. She truly can't believe that he would want to be friends with her again, especially after the way things ended. Despite how much she wants things to be right with him, and for him to trust her and care for her.
"Quit arguing with me," he says firmly. "I've already said my piece. You…" he moves to rest his hand on her hip once more. "Need to rest."
She opens her mouth to argue but can't find it in her to do so. Instead just letting out a hum.
It takes her a while to finally get comfortable, but when she does, her body starts to slacken from exhaustion. She drifts off to sleep in his arms.
A half-smile appears on his lips as he watches her fall asleep. There's still some tension remaining, mostly in her back and shoulders. He's grateful that she's trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms. And that she's trusted him enough allow him back into her life again.
He follows her into sleep, the world dimming around him.
When he awakens, she's still in his arms—much to his surprise. She's still resting, fitfully though. Her face pulled somewhat away from his chest. Her eyes are shut, her brows tense, and her lips pulled into a frown. She's squirming and letting out a low, whimpering sound. There's sweat on covering her, and her body is trembling.
He can't tell if she's suffering through a bad dream, in pain, or both. He jostles her gently. "Claire, hey, come on. Wake up."
When she doesn't stir, he attempts it again. "Hey, I'm here. Wake up, please," he coaxes.
She wakes with a jolt, crying out and trying to squirm away from him.
"Claire, hey, shh," he soothes. "Look at me."
It takes her a moment to register his words. When she does turn towards him, all he can see is the sheer panic in her eyes—and the pain and confusion. It's a look that he knows will haunt him.
"Hey, that's it. Look at me. Give me your hand, ok?" He holds a hand out and waits for her to accept it.
She places her hand in his. Watching wide-eyed as he moves to flatten her palm, and rest it against the center of his chest. "Feel me. Feel my heart beating. Look in my eyes, and hear the sound of my voice. I'm here, you're safe. I promise."
He notices the glossiness to her eyes, and the tears streaking down her face, and realizes it's not just panic, but pain as well. "Come on, breath with me, ok? In and out." He demonstrates a breath, eyes focused intently on her.
She follows his instructions, inhaling and exhaling a few times. Her breathing slows a bit, but is still a bit unsteady. "Good, that's it. You're doing good. Keep breathing with me."
"Leon?" She pants out finally. "W-what's…I…"
"You're here with me. In your apartment. You offered for me to stay last night, and insisted I stay in your bed since you were in pain. I think…you might have had a nightmare. Are you still in any pain?" He explains, knowing she's probably a bit confused still. Waking up from a nightmare always disorients him, and if she's the same way he wants to bring her back down to earth.
"Oh…" she pauses for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She nods, her bottom lip pulling down in the slightest of frowns. "Yeah, still hurting. A lot. My episodes can last for days on end typically. T-thanks for…" she trails off, shuddering.
"For staying?" She nods. "Of course. I'm sorry you're still feeling bad, is there anything I can do?" His voice is still soft, and low.
"Just…hold me for a little bit, please?" She droops forward, leaning her head against his chest. "It's been so long since I've been held. Just…please…for a little bit."
He wraps his arms around her gently. Pressing a small kiss to her forehead. "I'm here. I'm not leaving. Not again."
"Thank you," she mumbles out. Enjoying the way that he holds her like she's precious—like she's something to be cared for. She's never had that before, and she doesn't ever want to lose it.
She doesn't ever want to lose him again.