Ugly Good Bad

[Meraki]

Eliza worked until she physically couldn't any longer.

As the night drifted into early morning, she found herself out of breath and too tired to keep moving. Her and Dawson both. The others from their precinct had already been moved back to the medical tents for oxygen and clearance to go home. More than their fair share of officers had to be shipped off to nearby hospitals for smoke inhalation, but Eliza needed to go home. She needed to see Rhett. She needed some clarity in all of this madness. They bandaged the tears on her hands for the sake of keeping the ash and soot from the healing wounds, she sat with an oxygen tank while they checked her vitals over and over.

She wanted to tell them that she'd experienced one too many bombings to be affected physically, but it was a joke that died in her throat. The ambulance came for Diaz, too, pronounced him dead on arrival and shipped him off with the others, but Eliza could not mourn. There were too many struggling and gasping for life who needed her help, but she knew she was useless here now. The first responders had done their job and they needed relief sometime. She would be back in the morning to relieve the subsequent responders, but for now she was done. Dawson walked with her, hand on her back as they navigated through the mess of downtown. People thanked them as they walked, handed them water and praised the NYPD, but it didn't feel like much. Death tolls were rolling into the hundreds and there was still so much they hadn't searched.

Still so many families without answers.

Eliza didn't even make the walk back to the station. She split off with Dawson close to Rhett's apartment and waved him off with a promise of being fine. "Get some rest, kid," he told her, his voice kind, "You did some real good today, but we've got more to do. So much more to do."

"I know," she nodded, "Let me know about…"

"I will, he's not going anywhere."

She felt her breath catch in her throat, "Right. I'll see you in the morning, Dawson."

She took the short walk by herself but when Rhett's apartment came into view in the late night darkness, she ran. Everything in her burst out in quick steps until she was bounding up the stairs despite being out of breath. She looked a mess, needed a shower desperately, but she would here. She'd promised him she would be, and she was. It was the only place she could think of since the moment the bombs went off, he was the only thing burning in the back of her mind.

Without any hesitation, she used her key to open the door and burst into the apartment.

"Rhett?"

 

[Nav]

While Eliza worked, so did Rhett.

His memory was as close to perfect as the universe could come, and he abused his mind viciously recalling every conversation he and Sylvia ever had. Like a police mulling over a tape-recording, Rhett poured over his own memories. What had he missed? What had he dismissed so long ago as nothing, but meant something now? There was so much to go through that even his memory couldn't process any faster than it was. He stared at the documents he had pulled from file cabinets, the map, everything he had ever known about Sylvia… but it just didn't make sense. There was a missing piece somewhere… a missing piece that could take the puzzle from a consuming jumble of colored pieces to a complete picture.

Still, no matter how much he thought, nothing was jumping out at him. A small part of him wondered if he should have been able to predict what Sylvia was going to do. He felt like he should have been able to; he was smart, brilliant, and he should have known. He should have seen it coming. An anxious and frustrated hand smothered his face; he couldn't concentrate with all the noise and sirens outside. His brain crackled in and out of focus like an old record. What was he missing? It was the grand question he had asked himself his whole life through. There was something there for him to know. Something there he just needed to put together in the correct order.

He hadn't gotten distracted all evening, night, and early morning, not even by Einstein who mewled for his attention and rolled around on the couch. It wasn't until he heard the key in the lock did Rhett forcibly look away from his mind map pinned up all across the wall. His eyes were red and strained, like the heat from his brain working so hard forcing its way out through the whites of his eyes. "Eliza?" he called, seeing her appear through the doorway. "Eliza—" he hated knowing he was feeling such relief when there were so many who were wondering where their loved ones were… if they'd ever come through the front door again, but all Rhett could do was be thankful to see her there, in the flesh.

Without a moment's pause, Rhett was at the door and had wrapped her up impossibly tight into his arms. His nose found her hair, not caring that there was soot smudging across his face from the ash. "Oh thank god, I'm glad you're home. Are you alright? Nothing is hurt?" he sat back on his heels just enough that he could look down at her and wind his arms up from her side and place his hands on her cheeks, swiping away the ash and her tears. She was a mess, that was for sure, and had a few bumps and bruises, but didn't look like she had been caught in the blast.

"It was Sylvia," he murmured, knowing he didn't want to talk about it, but knowing he had to, "I saw her detonate it. The meeting? The meeting was all about this."

The sound of powerful whirring over the sirens caused him to glance back to the windows, "The National Guard must be here," he thought aloud. His eyes shifted in that moment, like he was putting together a puzzle with his eyes.

 

[Meraki]

Eliza let a sigh decompress in her lungs as she relaxed for the first time that night. Her body melted into his, not caring about the ash or soot she was managing to get on him. She just held him tight and breathed in the familiar scent. It had only been two days – but it felt like a lifetime. He fussed over her but she just shook her head yes, that she was alright, and his hands wiped at the ash and tears. She was just so exhausted that it was hard to not crumble under the familiarity of it all. She had pulled out too many people that day who would never see their loved ones again and she was lucky to have this moment. She knew that. It could have been her coming home in a body bag, not Diaz.

"I figured it," she cleared her throat, trying to quell everything bubbling inside of her, "it was her house, the Central Law offices – it leveled those blocks and every bystander or car in a mile wide radius. "When I put together her meeting with you and the timing – she's too smart."

"Everyone's down there. We were the first responders, but every single NYPD officer, firefighter, and EMT is on the scene right now. I know that they put in a call for the National Guard – it's a state of emergency. Dawson and I only got cleared to go home because the smoke was so bad, they were losing guys left and right. They're cycling us through – I've gotta be back in the morning. She – God, Rhett. Hundreds of people. I've never seen anything like it. They're calling it a terrorist attack, not even knowing how domestic the problem really is."

She pushed the loose strands of black, ash covered hair, from her face and shook her head. "We found Diaz under the rubble," she admitted, "He was at the law offices, for some reason, and it took us thirty minutes to pull the concrete away. I did CPR for another ten and nothing. They pronounced him dead on the scene."

God, she hated Sylvia. She hated her more than anything.

"Have you found anything out? Anything that can help us connect her to any of this?" she asked, noting the familiar, processing determination in his eyes.

Eliza slipped her arms around him one more time, just wanting to feel him there with her. It was a traumatic event to endure, civilian or officer, and no one was ever trained for that sort of thing. No one was trained to pull dead body after dead body from the ruins of a place that once held such life. "I'm just glad you're here and okay," she laughed, but the sound was a bit rasped, "I'm not sure what else I can take tonight."

 

[Nav]

Feeling her relax allowed Rhett to finally begin relaxing. Her tension leeched out and so did his, though his eyes focused on the window for a moment longer… a state of emergency. It had caused him to wonder why she had bothered to cause such a scene: destroying evidence, a distraction, perhaps? None of the solutions he could come up with made any sense. What would drive someone to explode their own property? Their office? All of their official documents? Sylvia must have lost a lot in the blast: court documents, rulings, everything down to her BAR, so what was so important that required such dramatic action?

It made him wonder if it wasn't a what, but a who.

His eyes skirted next to his television. He had turned it on to watch, but had put it on mute a while before. On the screen, the breaking news reeled over and over, showing aerial footage of the blast between blips about from reporters on the scene. Scrolling across the bottom read the words 'Future Presidential Candidate and New York Mayor Ron Silverstein calls for state of emergency in New York City.' Memories zipped past his eyes like a newsreel, fast, furious—all scrolling for one in particular. It had been summer and he and Sylvia had gone to Central Park. They were sitting on a bench. Sylvia—his mind was pulling the memory from his banks.

"Have you found anything out?"

His trance was broken, his eyes flickering back to her and a smile returning to his face. It was loving, but conflicted with torment. "Maybe," he admitted slowly, "I need to stew on it a while longer. Come on, let's get you in the shower. And me, again…" he was covered in soot from transference from her hair, causing his smile to warm a little. "Come on, sweetheart. You need to be clean, to have some dinner, and get some sleep." He knew all of the above would be difficult, but they could take it one step at a time. Capturing her lips in a tender kiss, Rhett slipped away so he could find a towel and get the shower started and warming.

"I think maybe it's best we don't split up," he continued with the shower steam beginning to roll over the top of the shower. "I know it's easier to track one person instead of two, but the fact of the matter is that Sylvia is going to find us when she wants to, whether we're together or apart and…" he fumbled, but for once, he didn't curse himself because all he could feel was love and hurt for Eliza, "And if it is all going to end in fire, I want to be with you."

 

[Meraki]

Usually Eliza would have pushed.

The moment he said maybe, she would have been on top of it and working tirelessly to find a solution. But there wasn't enough energy left in her bones to manage it. He was right. She needed a shower, some dinner and some sleep. She knew she worried him and she had fought her way back, but the trauma of the day hung on her like a heavy blanket. She wasn't sure how well she would sleep, but she owed it to herself to lie down and close her eyes for as long as she could. When the sun rose again, she'd have to be right back out on the street and she knew it would be a day full of the same.

Sylvia had not only managed to destroy her home and office, but countless other lives and it was Eliza's job to see to those people. No part of her underestimated Sylvia's knowledge of what this attack would mean for herself and what it would mean for Eliza work wise. So when Rhett stepped away for a minute after a tender kiss, she was slow to follow but quick to respond. "I think so too," she agreed as she peeled her shirt off and tossed the blood stained white shirt into the garbage. It was a slow progression from the living room to the bathroom, but when she felt the steam it was like an answered prayer. Slowly, she reached up to let her hair down completely and leave her pants and holster on the floor. She would pick them up later but all she could think about was Rhett and that shower.

If it is all going to end in fire, I want to be with you.

She looked up at him and nodded, bringing her lips to his slowly before pulling away. She raised her thumb to brush a bit of the soot off his cheekbone to no avail. "I don't want to be alone anymore," she admitted quietly, no need to raise her voice when she'd spent the day screaming over sirens and cries, "This is my home. You're my home. No matter what Sylvia throws at us, I don't want to spend another moment without you."

It was so hard to feel anything but entirely physically and emotionally beaten down, but Rhett was Eliza's saving grace. He always brought her back from the darkness with just a few words, a simple touch, and a loving smile. When that bomb went off and they were in the wreckage, she was worried. She worried that something would happen and she wouldn't make it back to Rhett. She never wanted to feel that again. Not for a single moment.

She moved to step into the shower he started, feeling the hot water immediately begin to peel the soot and ash from her skin. She watched as the dark water poured from her hands and arms before stepping fully underneath. The heat of the shower soothed her bones and helped bring down the adrenaline still coursing in her veins and Eliza just felt so tired. Her hands ran through her hair, attempting to scrub out as much of the mess as possible.

It was so strange to be showering with Rhett after an explosion and be capable of anything. All she could remember was pushing him away and claiming she could shower herself despite the broken ribs.

She turned and looked out at him and let a warm, tired smile find her lips. So much had changed since then. "Will you get my back?"

 

[Nav]

Rhett was brain tired, and he didn't often get that way. Sometimes, it felt like his brain could work on and on without pause or stop, causing him to lie awake for days and nights on end. Sylvia exhausted him. This situation exhausted him and even his brain was content to shut off. There were no numbers, no calculations—nothing except the admiration for the soft curve in Eliza's lowerback. He realized he was watching her undress, but he had stopped caring about that some time ago. She was a beautiful woman and he wanted to appreciate that as her lover.

Her agreement caused a tingle in his spine, knowing he couldn't and wouldn't go on without her. The last few days had been long and tiring. He couldn't even say it was like darkness consuming him, because it was wrong to call it darkness—it was emptiness, nothing at all. Depression crept up through him and strangled him slowly, but Eliza was a light. Eliza was his reason to get up in the morning, his reason to fight for a smile, his reason to find some sliver of happiness in a life he was struggling to enjoy. She wasn't his only means of survival, but she made him comfortable and content in a way little else had before.

There was not an ocean he wouldn't swim, not a fire he wouldn't tread, or a mountain he wouldn't climb for her. More importantly, there wasn't a city that would keep them apart.

Eliza slipped into the shower and as she settled in, Rhett pulled off his own shirt and worked out of his slacks. He gave her a few moments to get comfortable before following her in. Ash rained off them in dark streams, black rivers webbing across their skin before disappearing into the drain. In only a few minutes, the water began to run clear again… as if nothing had ever happened. He couldn't even hear the sirens anymore over the sound of the shower running.

Rhett scrubbed his face, cleaning away the last of the oil soot smudging his cheeks. "Of course, sweetheart," he blinked away some water and looked across to her. Their story had always started and ended with her back, it would seem.

Massaging some suds into his palms, he worked his fingers over the puckered and scarred skin. There didn't seem like there was a single inch across her skin that was free of a mark of some kind and he knew he didn't know what most of them were from. Hell, he probably would never know, but there was a tenderness and an understanding in the way his palms smoothed across her skin, working out all the dirt, blood, and grime that he could. "You are, undoubtedly, single-handedly the most beautiful woman I've ever met," he mused softly, his thumbs beginning to work tenderly into her shoulder muscles with a massage.

"And you know, I even was Cameron Diaz's attorney for a bit, did you know that?" he chuckled softly, glad to be thinking about anything except what had happened that day. "I was. I met her only once in person and I worked with her agents after that, but she was suing for defamation. They settled out of court, but…" his smile continued. It was small, like a fire trying to keep itself going on damp wood, "She was beautiful…. But you are definitely more so."

 

[Meraki]

Once, the feeling of Rhett's hands on her back would have ignited a deep anxiety in Eliza's heart. But now, the way his fingers worked over her back and massaged into her muscles brought her a relief she had never known before. Her neck muscles loosened and her head sort of just hung as Rhett worked through the kinks in her muscles. Everything had ached and each muscle was winded up far too tight, but his fingers slowly pulled the tension from her body until she was nearly useless putty in his hands. She smiled sleepily at his comment, turning up her face so the water could clear her face as well.

"More beautiful than Cameron Diaz? Are you sure you didn't accidentally hit your head during the explosion?" Eliza laughed for the first time all day, though it was a gentle, tired sound. There wasn't much in the world that day that gave her hope or fed into her humor, but Rhett always knew just the way to reach her when she felt as though she was reaching to pull her head above the water. The newest feeling in her body was the small pool of confidence that gathered in her heart as Rhett spoke to her. She would have never considered herself beautiful before him, but he said it with such conviction that she knew he meant it. He believed she was beautiful and it helped her to build up that confidence and belief that maybe she was beautiful, in her own way. Scarred, certainly, but more so covered in stories that proved she had survived.

And Eliza was nothing if not a survivor.

But she didn't want to live her life, day by day, trying to survive this world. She wanted to live in it. She wanted to dream and aspire to great things, she wanted to have quiet days in Central Park and explore other days. She wanted to be able to day a day off from work and just be Eliza. Not Detective Madison, simply Eliza. Rhett made her feel like that – which was funny considering how long he had referred to her by title. She turned slowly until she was facing him and brought her lips to his, soft and slow. There was nothing desperate about it, but instead it was a moment of savoring. He was alive, she was alive, and the city was burning around them but they were here.

"I missed you, Rhett," she breathed out, a smile finding her lips, "I missed being home with you."

With the water turned off, Eliza moved slowly to tug a towel off to wrap it around herself gingerly. He'd worked through her muscles with his fingers, but there was no denying that her body was just pushed past the point of exhaustion. She wanted to bend down and pick up the clothes she had strewn on the floor, but the idea of crouching down for them made everything in her legs cry out. "I promise I'll pick everything up. I kind of left the aftermath of a tornado in my wake," Eliza laughed as she glanced at the trail of her shoes, pants, jacket as they had moved to the bathroom earlier.

"I just need to sit for a few minutes."

 

[Nav]

"Leave them," Rhett replied as he snatched a clean towel and dried himself off in a haste. Pinning the towel around his waist, he made his way in to the bedroom to pull on a clean pair of sweats. "You're staying here again now, right? So, just leave them. I missed seeing your messes around." He smiled back to her, hanging up his towel after he had attempted to dry his hair. Instead; the dark locks just fell in damp, dripping waves around the side of his face. He missed a whole lot more than just her messes, that was for sure, but there was something about seeing her laundry in the hamper or her empty cereal bowl in the sink that transformed his apartment from a place to live to his home. It was home when she was there; she was his home.

"Go sit on the couch," he mentioned off-handedly, making his way towards the kitchen next. "Relax, I'll make some dinner then we can get you to bed." Deciding not to do anything too fancy, Rhett pulled the tried and true classic Kraft Mac n cheese from the cabinet and put on a pot of water to boil. He leaned his hip into the counter, fiddling with the wooden stirring stick as he admired Eliza's features from afar. All he could think about how glad to see her home... knowing she would be staying there. Whether they survived their crazy mess or not, he'd spend every breath he could at her side. There wouldn't be a night he lived apart from her, at least until Sylvia and Robinson were properly dealt with. A smile graced him-- subtle and small, as he was really only smiling for himself before he turned back to his boiling pot of water.

"Einstein missed you," he mentioned tenderly, looking over to the cat who had bounded up on the couch and was meowing demandingly for her attention proper. She had missed Rhett, but not like she had missed Eliza, that was sure. "I could get her to leave me alone, honestly. She spent every minute I was here begging for my attention." In went the noodles and he began to stir them. "She didn't miss you as much as I did, I know, I'm a cat communication expert, but it was definitely close." He laughed, a bright and warm sound as he took the noodles off, stirred in powder cheese, and served up two bowls. Bringing one to Eliza, he flopped down next to her and dug into his own meal. He hadn't realised how hungry he had been until there was food straight in front of him.

Since getting home, he had been too occupied with Sylvia and what all had happened to even begin thinking about eating, but he knew he needed it. Desperately, he needed to take care of himself, but it got harder the worse things became.

"I'm just glad you're home."

 

[Meraki]

Eliza was in no place to argue with Rhett.

She wanted to help, she really did, but his words were too kind to pass up. Instead, she moved just enough into the bedroom to grab one of his shirts and slip it on as a makeshift night gown. Her hair hung in pitch black locks, clumped and still wet. She did not bother with a mirror and slipped back onto the couch when he offered it. The familiar give of the cushions was like a lullaby to her muscles and she let out a sigh. Her head thumped back for a moment, eyes closed to try and bring herself down from the reality of the day. Just as she did, she felt a gentle weight against her and then a soft, furry skull thump against her hand. Rhett's words brought a bit of light back to her heart and Eliza opened her eyes to see Einstein meowing and pawing for attention from Eliza.

"Is that true?" she looked at Einstein and questioned her lovingly, happily giving over her hand for some well-earned petting, "Here I was thinking you didn't like having another woman in the house. But Rhett is a cat communication expert, you know."

She let out a warm, deep laugh that reverberated through every inch of her body. He (like the Saint he was) brought her a bowl of mac and cheese and settled down next to her. She scooted a little close to him until there wasn't any room left between them and smiled at the contact. "I'm glad to be home. My place didn't feel the same. It was just…lonely." She didn't remember it feeling that way, but Eliza had done everything possible to avoid it after her and Rhett split up. She only went back for quick naps before heading back to the precinct and she'd grown tired of it after the first night. She missed their bed, their shared warmth and Einstein pawing for breakfast at the crack of dawn. She missed everything, but nothing as much as she missed Rhett.

"I'm just glad I'm with you again," she said in between bites. She was ravenous – not having eaten in twenty-four hours. There was just too much to do and the last thing she wanted was to go off for a break. There were so many people who needed help, it felt rightfully selfish to put her own needs before theirs. "I know it's just boxed mac and cheese, but this is exactly what I needed. Thank you."

She set down her bowl for a minute so she could rest her head against his shoulder with a soft thump.

 

[Nav]

Eliza's head thumped against his shoulder; he craned his neck to press a kiss to her forehead.

Rhett didn't finish his mac and cheese, but he managed to get through a portion of it, anyways. The chaos was still crawling outside their window, and the light pouring in was red, yellow, and orange. Rinsing off his bowl and dumping it in the sink, Rhett found himself suspended in hesitation as he stared out at the city. The plume of fire was still exploding into the blackness, the flames rolling outwards like the smoke of a mushroom cloud. The idea of firefighters rushing in was ludicrous; it was an inferno that seemed fueled by some kind of accelerant. As he looked out at it, all he could imagine was Eliza rushing into the fray.

Meanwhile, in the city streets below his apartment, the streets were packed. The onlookers had been excited at first, snapping pictures to upload to friends and generally behaving like a crowd on bonfire night. Then, there was a subtle shift in the wind direction and sent noxious smoke and ash raining down into their hair and eyes. With hands and clothing clamped to their mouths, they fled to their upmarket cars. It was chaos as they all tried to leave at once, honking their horns and struggling to see through the grey debris coating their windshields. "People are leaving the city," Rhett mentioned, looking back to Eliza as he peeled his attention away from the window, "Everyone seems so afraid… they must all be going to hotels or family members outside of the city."

There had been a terrible attack on American soil. Of course they were afraid—they were fearing more.

Arriving at the edge of the sofa, Rhett extended a hand down to Eliza to help her up. "Come on," he smiled, "Let's make you not lonely anymore and let's go to bed. You need the sleep, did you have enough to eat?" It would be daybreak in only a few short hours; Eliza looked as though she could use and all sleep she could get.

 

[Meraki]

"They are afraid," Eliza said softly, not even looking up because she had seen it all first hand. She had felt the panic, watched as families were torn apart and heard the cries. "It's all just a mindless attack to them. They have no idea that it was someone they're supposed to be able to trust to uphold justice. Even if they find out that it's Sylvia – this attack changes everything for everyone."

Eliza knew the corrupt nature of the New York underbelly, but she never thought that it ran this deep. She remembered the first time Rhett brought up Robinson as a possible suspect for her parents' murder and she'd brushed it aside. It didn't make sense to her then, but now she understood. She just wished she understood all of this sooner. Maybe then more lives would have been spared, or maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Sylvia would have gone on with or without Eliza and Rhett. It was hard to stomach, but she was probably just overtired. It was hard to keep your thoughts straight when exhaustion was tugging at the corner of your vision. At Rhett's offer to get her to bed, Eliza smiled genuinely and took his hand.

"Yeah, I couldn't eat another bite," she admitted and it was true. She could feel the contented fullness of her stomach easing the pit feeling in her stomach from the attack. She walked sleepily alongside him and slipped into bed next to him. With a deep, compressing sigh, Eliza tucked herself into Rhett's side and did not make any move to let go. The feeling of the bed beneath her was enough to almost immediately knock her out, but she shifted and got comfortable. She had spent too long not sleeping next to Rhett to lose this moment so quickly. She buried her face into his chest and curled into him.

Her alarm would go off in only a few short hours and then she would be running back into the fray. The thought made every single inch of her ache.

"I love you," she said, wanting to hear the words shared between them in the quiet of their bedroom again. She pressed a kiss to his chest, not even opening her tired eyes to find it. "I wish I could stay in this spot forever."

 

[Nav]

With dirty dishes in the sink and dirty clothes strewn aside in the bathroom, forgotten like they should have been for the time being, Rhett fell asleep to the sound of a sweet I love you in his ear.

The rambunctious blaring of the mobile's alarm going off just as the sun was a mere suggestion on the horizon jarred Rhett out of his peaceful sleep as he jolted up. The alarm rotated between about six different annoying noises of varying pitch and volume; it sounded like a disco for the anti-Christ. Rhett knew it was going to be a bad day when the fact that the alarm going off barely disturbed him against the rushing pain behind his eyes. The migraine struck with such ferocity that Rhett was its prisoner, quite helpless in the cage of pain. He reached out to slap the alarm off the phone and brought his hand to his head, trying to massage the pain away from his temple. It was futile.

He was blinded with flashing, colorful spots and craved darkness, quiet, and stillness, but the alarms still going off outside did nothing to help. Then there was the nausea that was attempting to overwhelm him to the point of vomiting, but he managed to swallow it down, glad he hadn't eaten much the day before. "Eliza," he reached over, nudging her shoulder, "Alarm went off."

Pain was throbbing so violently around his skull that he wondered how it didn't just crack open. Getting up, Rhett made for the bathroom to splash a little cool water on his face and it helped, though only for a few seconds. The relief surged through him, but when the pain returned, it seemed to return more fearsome than before. Any thought at all made his head buzz and feel like it was going to bleed out through his ears. Shuffling into the kitchen, barely picking up his feet, he moved to put on the kettle for a little hot water. The only thing that could soothe a migraine like the one he had was tea and rest, but he had to put his hand out on the counter to prevent from the dizziness causing him to topple over.

"Eliza… tea…" what was he trying to say? "Do you… tea." Fuck, fuck, fuck, but his thoughts weren't organizing like they usually were, "Do you want tea?" Frustrated bubbled up through him like carbonation in a soda can.

 

[Meraki]

Eliza hated alarms.

It was hard enough after the previous day to get the loud droning noise out of her mind, but it was still on the horizon. The city was still burning, people were still hurt, and her phone didn't care about that. All it cared about was its one job – waking Eliza up. It was Rhett's hand that jostled her to consciousness and she felt like she was hit by an eighteen-wheeler. The ache of her muscles reminded her of the long healing period after being blown up herself. It was like her body was just trying to adjust and she forgot just how much she had done running off of adrenaline. "Mmmm up," she mumbled, her hands coming to wipe uselessly at her eyes. She knew she looked like hell, but all she could think of was what was waiting for her outside that apartment.

With a grunt, she managed to peel out of the warmth to stand on the cold floor. She quickly tossed her clothes in the hamper and pulled on a pair of old jeans and her NYPD t-shirt that she had about twelve of at this point. She needed something non-restrictive and something she didn't mind throwing away after the day was over. She pulled her hair up and tied it off into a bun for once, not willing to leave anything stray when there was so much fire. Her phone rang and she picked it up, her voice thick with sleep, "Yeah?"

"We gotta go kid, I'll be out front in five with the cruiser."

"Right, I'll be there," she hung up on Dawson and slipped her phone away so she could stretch out her muscles. They screamed painfully at the movement but she did it anyway.

"Eliza…tea…do you…tea?"

Immediately, Eliza was in the kitchen and crossing the distance between her and Rhett. Something didn't sound right and she was worried when she saw his expression and his hand on the counter. "Hey," Eliza came up alongside him and slid her hand against his cheek to turn his expression up to her enough so she could read it. "Here, come back to bed. Don't worry about me, you should lie down."

"I'll take care of the tea, alright? I know just how you like it," she said gently as she took his hand in hers, "It's early and you worked so hard yesterday, you need the rest."

 

[Nav]

"No, no," he shook his head, though within a second, her hand was on his cheek and the discouraging shaking stopped. "You have to go," he reminded her. His eyes opened and he looked to her, the shade of blue wasn't its usual oceanic blue, but it seemed a bit distorted and glossy—almost as though he was hungover, but he hadn't a sip to drink in a while. "You need to work and I…" his thoughts trailed off and he lost track of what he was thinking of. It was like his brain, perfectly capable of remembering conversations he had with Sylvia years ago—word for word—had suddenly been replaced with a Commodore 67 microchip, sputtering along slowly and incoherently.

When Eliza went on, he could only feel the building in his gut. Someone must have been filling his innards with cement because there he was, being led to his warm, comfortable bed by his perfect, beautiful girlfriend's hand as the city continued to rain ash just outside his window. Through the night, his window screens had become so matted with the stuff, he couldn't see out anymore. The apartment was darkened, but not in the soothing way of thick curtains, but in a scary, blotchy way. He felt guilty. He felt guilty hearing her words… you worked so hard… but had he really? Compared to Eliza, he walked around in his boxers and recalled conversations he had with a woman years ago, a woman who was much smarter and faster than him and he couldn't keep up.

At least Eliza had done more than her fair share and she was going back at it today, and what was Rhett doing? Floundering around because of a headache? He was so useless. All the intelligence in the world and he couldn't even help Eliza, or the city, or anyone.

Suddenly, his brain kicked up into high gear and as if the pain hadn't punished him enough, there were numbers. They scrolled past his vision, being lost behind the lights, speckles, and dots. So many numbers, too many, his conscious mind couldn't keep up with his subconscious thoughts. He fell into bed again, sighing pitifully, but it didn't help. His head still swam, his heart still ached. "Don't worry about the tea," he mumbled, his face pressed into the pillow, "Just make sure you uh…" fuck, fuck, fuck, you're a fucking idiot, Rhett, "get some breakfast before you go, alright? You'll need it. I love you." He almost offered to bring her some lunch, but knew she'd be too busy to eat and he wouldn't be able to get that close to the crime scene. Everything was bound to be walled off from civilians by now.

"Give me a call when you get done. I'll order some dinner or somethi.." oo, his thoughts wobbled again and he couldn't think of what he was trying to say for a split second, "something."

 

[Meraki]

Eliza hated seeing him like this.

She could only imagine the kind of brain hangover that came from the way Rhett thought, especially when he spent hours and hours neglecting himself to work tirelessly. No, he hadn't been out in the action like she had, but he was doing something she could never do. It had taken her a long time to accept it, but Eliza couldn't outthink Sylvia – not really. Not like Rhett could if he put his everything into it. He was important, he was making the strides to put her in prison, but Eliza was just cleaning up her messes. She was working to the bone to protect the people she hurt and it was all she could do right now except for finding her and punching her in the mouth. But she had already promised Rhett she would never go after Sylvia alone.

"I love you too," she said finally, pressing a kiss to his hair, while his face was buried in the pillow. She hated seeing him like this and it made her forget every single one of her own aches. She wanted him to feel okay, to be okay, but she couldn't physically go into his head and make it all stop. "I'll call, if you need me to stop and pick something up on my way back, I can do that too."

Eliza moved to the kitchen to grab herself a quick bowl of cereal and she put the tea kettle on anyway. As she ate, she made him a mug of tea and brought it into the bedroom to set on the nightstand. "I know you said don't worry about it, but I'm a selective listener," Eliza smiled, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Dawson was there right on time and the two went back to the scene. Not much had changed, really. The area was walled off, but fires were still burning and debris everywhere. Bodies were still being pulled from the wreckage. It did not take them long to jump back in and help in any way that they could. The entire precinct was there – most of the police officers in the city were – and Eliza worked tirelessly alongside them to help out. One of the adjacent buildings that had caught fire was crumbling and there was smoke still in the streets, but they worked. Eliza pulled on one of the flimsy masks the EMTs were giving out, but it didn't seem to do much against the smoke.

Dawson took a lunch break, but Eliza kept working. Body after body, concrete slab after concrete slab, Eliza worked through the wreckage and even near twelve hours later, there wasn't much change. There wouldn't be for a long time, not until the fires died down and they could get crews in here. The National Guard was on the scene too, any active or inactive military in the area came from their homes to lend a hand, and it was both the greatest display of humanity and the greatest display of human evil at the same time. Like everyone, Eliza had a bit of a cough as she worked, but it worsened without a break. The smoke kept sneaking into her lungs and not before long, one of the EMTs pulled her out and sat her down at a tent. She was falling into deep, painful coughs and the longer she waited the worse it got.

And she almost killed the EMT who loaded her and a few others into an ambulance against their will.

The last place Eliza wanted to end up was at the ER, but the brought them in, ushering each of them into an emptied exam room where there were oxygen tanks and chairs set up. A doctor came over to her, unamused with her assurance that she was fine and just needed to go back. He examined her fully before putting her on an oxygen tank for the foreseeable future. He said there was no mucus, but that she had been exposed too long to go back. Eliza tried to take the mask off to argue, but he was not having it.

It was well after dinner when they finally gave her the clearance to use her cell phone. She was off the oxygen, but had strict orders to not return to work. She had done her job, but they were afraid more exposure to the smoke was going to be deadly for her lungs, especially the one the was still long-term healing from collapsing during the explosion. He said there was nothing to be upset over, that so many other police men and firefighters had been brought in for the same reason today.

He said you have to be alive to save lives, and he wasn't wrong.

That being said, he didn't allow her to clear until someone came to get her. They were worried that she was going to head back to the scene against doctor's orders and they probably would've been right, but she didn't look forward to this phone call. She didn't look forward to the way she knew Rhett's heart would skip again at the mention of her and an emergency room.

"Rhett?" she answered, clearing her throat a little, "Listen, I need you not to freak out, ok? I'm, uh…I'm in the emergency room. Everything's fine, I promise, it was just a little smoke, but they won't clear me unless someone comes to take me home."

 

[Nav]

Every kiss and gesture was soothing, but it wasn't enough to make everything go away. His head still ached, his body still hurt, he still felt completely useless. He sighed and flopped around in his bed until Eliza came to say goodbye, trying to put on a smile just for her because she deserved it. "Sure," he agreed, "Just let me know. We'll figure something out. Soon, soon…" he paused to swallow, his eyes closing tightly to refocus, "We'll need to figure out what we're doing next." They needed a plan. They couldn't just keep being reactionary to whatever Sylvia and Robinson were doing. Not anymore, it was time to play on the offensive and make them dance a little more, sweat a little more, worry a little more. For now, Sylvia hadn't even quirked a worried brow in their direction and that needed to change.

After a nap. First, Rhett needed a nap.

When Eliza finally left, he sipped his tea for a while before forcing himself to lie back down. He rested, but didn't sleep. Instead, he kept growing more frustrated. His thoughts became more and more confused and by the middle of the afternoon, he couldn't string two thoughts together. He did manage to get up for a small bite to eat though, his head trying to force him over, but his muscles just barely keeping him upright. Settling back down on to the couch with a small bowl of cereal and all the blinds drawn shut, Rhett stared for a moment at the wall covered in his previous night's thoughts. There was so much information and he couldn't process it at any speed. It was in that moment that he reached for his phone and punched in a familiar number.

The woman on the other end of the line was perky, her bright voice causing his head to ring sharply and painfully. Thank you for calling Valley View Medical Center, my name is Rosy, how may I direct your call?

"Rosy, hi," Rhett swallowed painfully, his head lolling back uselessly against the couch and his eyes closing again, "Uhm, I was a former patient of Dr. Hamburg, and I need to make another appointment? Please?"

"Yea, my name is Rhett Wolfhart"

The two went back and forth for a moment before Rhett nodded into the ear piece, even though Rosy couldn't see it, "Sure, I'll uh… I'll see you tomorrow at noon. Thanks again." He clicked his phone off, surprised that it immediately began to ring again. The sound pierced through him, his body going stiff at the sound, but he answered it seeing the name on the front.

"Hello?" he didn't have much of a time to respond, but he slowly processed what she had said—Eliza, hospital, don't freak out. What should he not freak out over? Hospital? She was with who? Oh, his poor head. Finally, he pieced it all together again. "You're in the hospital?" his voice edged with worry, but consumed by exhaustion, "I will… taxi. I will get a taxi, I mean."

 

[Meraki]

Eliza felt so guilty.

She knew how Rhett was feeling and she'd managed to get herself too caught up in her work again. It hadn't been her intention and she was trying to be careful, but there was a domestic terrorist attack on their hands. The adrenaline was coursing through everyone at such a high level that it was hard to be able to think ten minutes ahead, let alone notice the symptoms of smoke inhalation. While she was waiting on the edge of a bed, despite not needing it really, she caught wind of a familiar voice.

"Damn it!" she watched as a familiar man walked past her bed and Eliza was up on her feet in seconds. He was clearly distraught, looking for an exit. "Mr. Diaz?" Eliza called out after him and he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were rimmed red, an angry expression on his face but it softened when he saw Eliza.

"Eliza?" he asked, walking forward to take her face in his hands, "What are you doing here? Are you alright? They said you brought him in?"

"I'm fine, I wasn't there at the time of the explosion, I went in with the first responders. I was the one who found him under the building. I'm so, so sorry."

"They said you did CPR on him for twenty minutes."

"Yes sir," she nodded, a lump rising in her throat, "I thought that maybe I could…but I was too late. I should have been there sooner."

Mr. Diaz wiped at his own face and took a deep, shaky breath. Eliza felt tears rimming her own eyes and she uselessly brushed them away. It was the only moment she got and would get to mourn Diaz the way he deserved to be mourned. He was her partner and he had saved her life more than once. He had tried to save her, too, in a way that only Rhett was able. They didn't work romantically, but he was still one of her only friends. One of the few people who knew who she was and never judged her for it. She couldn't save him, and that hurt.

"Thank you," he said gently, his voice impossibly small, "Thank you for always protecting my son and for bringing him back to us. There are so many families who will never know and I – you gave us that."

"Will you let me know about his arrangements?" Eliza asked, "I want to be there. I'd like to help in any way that I can."

"Of course," he nodded, "of course I will."

Eliza wiped at her eyes as she moved back to her bed. She ignored the scolding from the nurses as she sat back on the edge of her bed. It didn't feel fair. It didn't feel fair that she was able to just wait for Rhett to come get her and there were so many people in this hospital who would never see their families again. All because of Sylvia.

All because of one woman.

 

[Nav]

The taxi was hard to get ahold of. It took him a while to flag one down as they were all exceedingly busy carting so many people around the city, which was in chaos after such a big event. It didn't help that he couldn't even see straight anymore. Sharp pain continued to lance through his head and colorful spots flashed infront of his eyes, though his focus went in and out. Objects went from being as clear as a high definition TV to being so out of focus they were nothing more than colourful smudges. Never mind that his stomach was trying to do anything possible to vomit up his meal, which he had to continually swallow down in hopes he wouldn't expel everything on the floor of that poor cab.

Thankfully, the drive to the central hospital wasn't too long of one. They pulled up at the main entrance and Rhett hastily paid, thanking the cabbie, and stumbling his way inside. The receptionist behind the desk looked up to him and stood up, leaning over the counter. "Honey," she cooed. She was an older lady with grey hair that looked almost blue and a nest of wrinkles that curled around her eyes, "What are you being admitted for?"

"Admitted?" Rhett cleared his throat, looking down at himself. He was a mess. He was still in his sweats and a t-shirt with a heavy sweatshirt pulled over top. He hadn't showered. His hair was a mess and his eyes bloodshot. He probably looked like a druggie off the streets, not one of the city's best attorneys. "Oh, no," he shook his head, "I'm here for, for…" fuck. Why was his brain on repeat? "Eliza Madison?"

The receptionist slowly sank into her seat, giving him a suspicious look before typing the name into her computer. "E-L-I-S…"

"Z."

"Z-A? Alright, here she is. She is in room four-eleven." The kind older woman gave him directions and he fumbled down the hall, hands in his sweater pockets. Up the elevators to the fourth floor, take the first left, the second right, and her room would be on the left down that hall. He found it with no problem.

Giving the door a small knock, he helped himself inside. "Eliza?" he asked, "You in here?" the room was bright and he had to squint back against the lights, his head screaming at him again. It didn't help, the smell of the citrine and ammonia from the cleaning agents.

 

[Meraki]

It took Rhett a while to show up, but when her door opened, Eliza kicked herself for even bothering him. He looked like hell, his skin paled and eyes bloodshot. He called out her name and he looked physically pained being inside of the room. She wondered when she had become so soft, but she felt genuine guilt over making him come get her – but there was no other option. She wouldn't be able to go home if it wasn't for him, but by the looks of it, he needed to be here more than she did. She pushed herself off the bed and crossed the room to wrap her arms around his neck.

He felt shaky, unsteady on his own feet, and she pulled back just enough to look at him. "I'm here," she said as she held him. A deep sigh decompressing in her lungs and she shook her head. "I'm so sorry you had to come. I—"

She eyed him carefully, unable to move past the elephant in the room of him losing some sort of battle to his own mind. She had never really seen him like this, not since he was dealing with withdrawal shortly after the first explosion nearly left her dead. But then, she didn't know him, not like she did now. She used to not be able to read him as clearly as she could now and she wasn't about to let this go when there was so much going on around them.

They had to be a team, they had to take care of one another.

That was why they came back together, wasn't it? Because if this world was going up in flames, they were going to burn together and she could think of no better place to be than at his side. "Rhett, are you alright?" she asked finally, "Do you want to see someone while we're here?"

"You don't look like you're feeling to great," she said, unable to hide the tinge of worry in her voice.

 

[Nav]

The weight of her arms felt heavier than usual around his neck, but it did lots to let the stress that had been gathering in his shoulders melt away. He exhaled finally for what felt like the first time since he had gotten the phone call earlier because he could finally see that Eliza was OK with his own two eyes. His arms came around her waist, lacing together at the small of her back as he looked on to her, meeting her gaze as she inspected him—rather than the other way around. It felt silly that the woman who had been in the hospital needing someone to scoop her up was now giving him a once over.

"Don't apologize," he corrected her gently, his voice soothing and quiet though it was hard to tell if that was for Eliza or himself, "It's not like you chose to come here and I'd rather have to pick you up here knowing you're well than not." Tiredly, he rested his chin on the top of her head, just taking a moment to hold her. There was so much great torture and pain around them, it seemed, and it was only being made harder by their own personal battles.

All his life, he had seen people with such one-dimensional lives and fervently, he wished for the same.

The question hung in the air between them for a moment before Rhett sat back on his heels and cleared his throat to buy him a few more seconds of time. "It's a migraine," he explained after those few moments had quickly drained away, "It's been a long time since I've gotten one, but I used to get them quite frequently as a young adult." He could remember his time all through law school where his head would ache and pound. There had been times they got so bad, he had to be hospitalized for days—but this one wasn't so bad.

Rhett also knew he should tell her about the appointment he had, but not yet. He would, just not immediately—not when she was spending her days and nights out pulling bodies and survivors from twisted metal bomb wreckage. No, she needed to keep her mind in the work at that time, and the less she was worrying about him, the better off she'd be… for now. He promised himself, and her, inwardly that he would tell her when the time came.

"We should go home. What time do you need to be back to work?"