Ugly Good Bad

[Meraki]

Eliza just held him for a moment, reveling in the feeling of him being there. The last two days had taken so much out of her that she felt as though she was grinding gears, no oil left to lubricate and ease the tension. Everything in her was burning, searing pain and an exhaustion that cut her down to the very bone until she wasn't sure how to lift her arms anymore without wincing. That's what came of those emergencies, though. Every single man and woman on the scene was not only putting their life at risk but they were working themselves to near death to protect the lives of those who could not protect themselves. She wasn't the only person in the hospital that day, certainly not the only cop with a bit of smoke inhalation.

At the thought a loud, tired cough sprung from her lungs and she shook it off. The doctor said she would be fine sooner enough, but that she risked doing irreversible damage without some rest. She looked up at Rhett, with nothing but apologetic looks. She hated that he had to come, even if he told her not to apologize, but she understood now the effect they had on one another. When she was blown up in the explosion, she had tried with everything she had to be okay on her own and she brushed away all help. Now, she just regretted making him drive all the way down here, but more than that she regretted they had to call him.

She hated that, for a moment, he had no idea if she was okay or not.

"Yeah, come on," Eliza said finally, slipping her hands into his, "I've got some time. they said I have to take at least a full twenty-four hours before I head back out. So later tomorrow morning, I guess."

The last thing Eliza wanted to do was sit at home and watch as everyone else broke their back to fix the mess that Sylvia made. A mess that Sylvia used to ignite what had to be the inklings of war and destruction. No one in this city would take the attack lying down and no one would stop until the culprit was found – but if Sylvia had it in place to give them false leads, this could be catastrophic.

"We should get you home," she said gently, brushing her fingers through his tussled hair line, "These fluorescent lights can't' be helping."

The only thing keeping her sane right now, was him. The safety he brought, the security she felt knowing that he was alright and beside her. She would do anything to help him, but he knew that. He had to by now.

 

[Nav]

"Let's go home."

The idea of going home could not have been a more welcomed concept. She was right that the lights were terrible, as were the sights, the smells, and the sounds. There wasn't anything more in the world he wanted than to curl up on the couch with his girlfriend and, between them, their cat. They could find a light dinner and rest, as they both needed it desperately. With her hand sliding into his, he felt the familiar tingle of delight prickle his gut. No matter how tired, sick, or in pain he was, the feeling of her hand lacing up in his own never got old.

The entire world outside of their apartment felt as though it was on fire and while he knew Eliza was anxious to get back out and help, he was glad she had reined it in and came home for a while. Truthfully, Rhett needed it probably more than she did. A very large part of him needed her there, even if she didn't even know it. A smile managed to tip only the corner of his lips when she tussled up his hair. "It's a bit dark and dreary in the apartment right now. I put up all the big, heavy drapes." He had also sound-proofed the apartment to the best of his abilities, so all sounds would be only muffled and not pierce through his head with quite such ferocity. A lot helped, but little cured.

There was so little he could do when the migraines struck that he felt painfully useless. The time against Sylvia was ticking down quickly, the seconds running like sand through his fingers, yet he could barely get enough thought together to put two pieces of bread and sandwich meat together. He was bumbling around like a newborn, knowing so much relied on them but also knowing how little he could do.

The taxi was easy to hail from the hospital and before he knew it, they were tucked into the backseat heading back home. The driver hardly acknowledged them, too busy tuning into his news program pipping through the radio. The noise was enough to make Rhett's head begin to spin again as nausea threatened to force him to vomit, but he managed to keep it together and tried to listen to the words.

New York District Attorney's Office is working closely with White House Correspondents and the FBI to investigate the attack on the New York offices…" the voices blurred out of Rhett's head after a moment and were replaced with a boiling pain that cooked away at his brain.

 

[Meraki]

Eliza helped him to the car, her lungs a bit labored at the movement, but the doctor said that with enough rest she should be more than fine. They got into the taxi and immediately Eliza noticed the way that Rhett seemed to sink into himself painfully. There was no way this was normal but then again Rhett didn't have a normal brain. He functioned at such a fast pace that it did not surprise her that his migraines reflected how powerful his mind was. She wished she knew what to do – when Eliza's head hurt she would just down some whiskey and take a nap, but none of that seemed like it would help him. Luckily, she was alert enough for the both of them and ensured that he made it out of the taxi.

She paid the man and moved to help Rhett out of the taxi, her hold gentle but strong as she helped him into the building and up to the apartment. He wasn't joking, huh? There were blackout curtains up and he'd worked to soundproof the whole thing. It was dark and dreary in all the ways he described, but she didn't mind. After spending a day amongst fire, smoke and screams – it was a welcomed change. It was hard to rein it in sometimes, but she knew she was needed here and essentially useless to the rest of the world until her lungs managed to work though some of the smoke.

She helped settle him down on the couch and moved to pick up a few things. The apartment was a mess, but she just wanted to make it easier for him to maneuver around and less to worry about. Eliza wasn't much of a cleaner, but she could throw clothes in a hamper and dishes in the sink. She poured a glass of water and brought it back, settling it on the table though she was unsure if it would help at all.

"I'm not sure what to do for a migraine," she said gently, not wanting to make it worse, "Just tell me what you need and I can do it. Anything at all."

 

[Nav]

He actually felt a little embarrassed when they stepped into the flat. Eliza had been out helping those ailing and their families, and all he had been able to do all day was draw the blinds, turn the place into a cave, and try and sleep. He sheepishly scratched his neck and averted his eyes a ways, but she coaxed him along and before he knew it, they were on the sofa. His migraine refused to let up; it just kept pounding away in his skull so violently, he was surprised his skull didn't just crack open. Truthfully, he sort of wished it would. It would at least relieve some of the pressure he felt continually building up in there.

"I uh—" god fucking damnit, he mentally cused himself, "There isn't much you can do. I just have to wait for it to pass." There were medicinal options available for migraines and he had taken them a few times, but they helped only marginally and after he had gotten so involved with his other medications, he didn't want to try horse-tranquilizing pain killers. He knew himself and he knew he'd be addicted to them in no time at all, so he had made a noble choice of not taking them.

"You can't do anything besides just being here with me." And that did more for him that she probably would ever realize. No, her presence didn't take the pain away by divine miracle, but she helped him relax. She helped him become comfortable enough that his muscles could begin to slacken in their tension and that did help. His body always felt like it was seizing up whenever he got a migraine—all his muscles going painfully rigid until they, too, began to ache and kink. Finally, he could relax and while he might not have shown it very well on his face earlier, he had been worried by her.

Settling his head down on her shoulder, he expelled a breath, closed his eyes, and tried to dispel the dancing lights behind his eyelids. "I just feel like we're no closer," he admitted, "And it's frustrating. I feel like we're know closer to solving any of this, like—why did they take all of those children, why you, why everything. I have theories, but I can't see the big picture and I find it dismally frustrating." Sighing, he sat deeper into the couch and tried to get his headache to ease by escaping the world. Maybe if he sat back far enough, he'd be consumed in the plush cushions. He'd just be sucked up and would fall into inevitable vacuum, weightless and eternal.

"Enough about me though, how are you feeling? You're the one unwell. I just have a measly headache."

 

[Meraki]

When Rhett told her she was doing enough by being there, Eliza wished she could do more, but she stayed beside him. After two full days of working in the aftermath of the explosion, she felt like she needed to be constantly moving but maybe he was right. Maybe just settling down was enough for them right now. His migraine needed time and her lungs needed time, too. It hurt to breathe sometimes, but she exhaled and let his head fall against her shoulder. She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and rested her cheek there.

"I can't either," she admitted, though Eliza never had before. She was strong and tough, but this whole case had shaken her down to the core. She had similar questions to him, who, what, why? She had theories, too, and she understood that in the grand scheme of things, she was insignificant – a bargaining chip for Robinson. Someday she would become disposable and she worried when that day was coming. With the attack on the city, it was increasingly difficult for her to find any safety.

"Wait," she hummed, "What if—"

A series of coughs rippled through her and she tugged her knees up so they could sit entangled in one another. The coughs shook her brain for a moment, but she blinked her eyes a few times and managed to bring herself back to. They weren't kidding when they said she needed rest. "Would any of this make sense if being the District Attorney wasn't her endgame?"

"She's working with local and federal government right now, right? I think that's what they said on the radio. And if she manages to feed them information in a controlled way…I dunno," she admitted quietly, just spit balling with him to try and help him through the mental block, "It would put her in good standing? No easier way to get elected than to become the hero New York 'deserves.'"

"Doesn't explain me, or those kids," she hummed, "unless we're all just spokes on the same wheel."

 

[Nav]

His eyes were closed but he was listening and when she stated a similar thought to the one he had had the day before, he shrugged a little. "She's working with the Vice President currently, a man who is bidding to run in this year's presidential election." He stated between a yawn, stretching out his legs and exhaling again. He was just squirming around in hopes that some position would be comfortable, but his body felt stiff and achy no matter what position he put himself into. Absolutely nothing was comfortable and no amount of regulated breathing or closing his eyes seemed to help. "But no, it doesn't explain the children or Robinson's role in this. If it's Sylvia's endgame, what's in it for him?"

Recognition, maybe. Awards, money, promotions? None of those seemed to fit, and the children didn't make much sense either. It maddened him that there were no clear connections to be made as his brain thrived on connections. It felt like a random display of happenings, but surely it wasn't random. Try as he might, nothing fell entirely in place and he knew they were missing a great deal of pieces to a grander puzzle. Nuzzling his nose into her shoulder, he tried to clear his mind as thinking made his migraine worse, but he couldn't. The aching continued and stabbed violently into his brain with such force there were colours and splotches behind his eyes. He was struggling against the weight of his own pain. "Even if she is playing for a bigger endgame, it doesn't give us much to go on. We can't do much against it or to prevent other bad things from happening. She is smarter than me and I can't really keep up or get ahead."

It didn't help that there weren't any new leads, either. There had been no news of new missing children or other happenings. After the explosion, it seemed like all had gone quiet at the police station. Sylvia continued to play loudly, but her links with others were becoming more convoluted. The links that had once been so clear to him were no longer. It was a damn muddy mess in his head and he was useless against it. He had done nothing productive to stopping Sylvia-- or anyone. If anything, he felt like he getting in the way of people who could do something.

"I don't know. I'm no good with this." He yawned and rolled so he was sitting straight on the couch. His head was lolled back and his hands were laced together over his abdomen, staring at the blank wall adjacent to him. "As soon as I'm feeling better, I'm going to get a job at a law office as an attorney. I can't keep up with my own business anymore and at least I can try and do some good that way." Law was what he knew. He didn't know much about detective work and treading water while sitting about would do him not anyone any good. "I'm going to need to work or I won't be able to pay rent."

 

[Meraki]

"She just managed to ignite all of New York and silence it at the same time," Eliza said finally, shaking her head and pushing herself up so she could move from the couch. She wasn't going far but she needed water, her lungs were crying out with each passing second. The explosion did exactly what Sylvia needed – she silenced the police department because they were too busy working the streets, she silenced any leads because her office with all of her files went up in flames, and she silenced them because Rhett was desperately lost in the onslaught of information and Eliza was stuck under rubble for hours and hours a day, exhausting herself until there was nothing left in her to give. Lifting her arms hurt, breathing hurt, and it was the one way besides Rhett that Sylvia could get to her.

Eliza, for all the darkness she carried and indifference she preached, cared deeply about the people of her city. She shouldn't have – the legal system and underbelly of the city had broken her down over the years – but she did. She wanted to help people. Hell, she only became a detective to help kids like her – kids affected by murder and abuse.

Eliza took a deep sip of water and covered her mouth as little coughs rippled through her. They were painful, but at least Eliza had fresh air here.

"Robinson's unstable," she admitted, "He's stuck in this hero complex. I don't know." She shook her head and cleared her throat again. It made sense to her to think that Robinson was involved now because of her, but maybe Sylvia had worked his case back in the day. Someone had to make Robinson's background disappear and maybe she was using him because he was the police chief and in order to move forward with political aspirations, they needed an alliance up and down the spectrum. Could it be the corruption went far beyond Sylvia?

Now her head hurt.

"Well, I was—" she hummed, trying to decide if now was the time to bring it up, "I was thinking about maybe selling my place. Unless you're entirely against it, which I would completely understand if you were with everything going on and I—" God, only relationships could make Eliza bumble like an idiot. "But if I did I could help out around here, I just though with everything going on, I should stay here." She wanted to stay there and it was drenching each of her words, but she couldn't find the words to say it.

"But um," she coughed and took another deep sip of water before refilling her glass. Drinking hurt but she knew she needed to do it. "If you want to join a law office, I think it's a good idea," Eliza said finally, "I think if we let ourselves get too consumed in this, we're going to lose ourselves in it."

 

[Nav]

There weren't really any answers for either of them, Rhett already knew that. Whatever Sylvia had planned had been in motion long before either he or Eliza had gotten involved and the pieces were falling into place faster than they could keep up. It felt like they were just falling behind, but the reality was that they had been years behind from the start. Whatever rabbit they were chasing went back to Eliza's childhood… earlier. "It's more than that," he mused softly, picking at a string at the corner of his shirt and tugging it gently, "It's more than that because when you were kidnapped? When you were kidnapped, Sylvia was just a young kid herself. She's your age. She is behind a lot, but she didn't start this."

Whatever was growing had been growing for a long time. Perhaps Sylvia hadn't started it, but she was taking advantage of a situation. "We keep looking at Sylvia, but I don't think we should. Sylvia is playing a game with a situation she found. She's exploiting it, but she didn't start this. I think her goals are irrelevant to the bigger picture." It was like a spider's web. Somewhere, Sylvia's sinister branch webbed around, but deeper in… beyond Sylvia's wants, desires, and actions, was an epicenter… a focal point of activity that Sylvia was using for her own gain. "Maybe we should stop thinking about Sylvia for a while and think beyond her. If we want to find the ending, we need to find the beginning."

The beginning, as far as Rhett was aware, started with Eliza and her parents' murders, as well as other children that had the same thing happen to them in her childhood era.

"Sylvia is a powerful piece on the chess board. She's the Queen and she can move any way she pleases, attack anyone she pleases… but there is someone, or something, bigger behind her. There is a King in this somewhere."

If they wanted to uncover the truth of the beginning, that meant they'd need to uncover the truth of the most forbidden item between them: the murder of Eliza's parents. It had been a topic Rhett hadn't brought up for a long time for obvious reasons, but perhaps it was time. If they wanted to stop Sylvia, they needed to stop the train she was riding on. Just as these thoughts were beginning to cause his brain to crimp with pain, everything stopped when he heard the thoughts next out of Eliza's mouth. They had nothing to do with Sylvia, police, law, Robinson… yet they stopped him in his metaphorical tracks all the same.

"I—" he fumbled and he didn't even seem to mind, mostly because he was busy thinking about everything else, about what she had suggested. "I, uh, of course you can move in here, Eliza." The question wasn't surprising so much as the fact that it was Eliza's suggestion. She was a guarded, untrusting woman for obvious reasons, and Rhett hadn't been expecting her to throw away her own flat on a risk of a relationship. "I'd like if you moved in here, of course. Either way, I think I should be working. If I don't work, Sylvia is winning anyways."

 

[Meraki]

Eliza was glad for his quick answer and just as it had appeared, the moment was gone as she nodded and smiled. Right. Moving in, then. Big relationship moves amongst the ruins of New York City. Maybe it was something about all of this that changed her. Eliza was untrusting and guarded, but watching all of those people crying on the scene of the explosions, searching for loved ones, she couldn't think of anything more than going home to Rhett. If something were to ever happen to her, she wanted anyone in the world to be able to find him. He didn't deserve to be her emergency contact, he deserved to have a solidified place in her life and for once she had to be the one to make the move. She was terrified of most things romantic, but she knew that there was a give and a take. Rhett had given her near everything he had and it was time for her to not just trust him (because she did) but instead show him that trust.

"Okay," she breathed out in relief, "Alright, good."

She was still mulling after about Sylvia and his description. He was right, she was too young to have a hand in her parents' murder but they knew Robinson did it. They needed to find out who helped him, why, and how he and Sylvia connected. It all came back to one place, too. The one place they never spoke about because it was where all this started. It was the one thing that got Eliza nearly killed. They stuck their nose too far and she ended up near dead in the hospital. The one place where Eliza still, after all these years, struggled to cope.

"Think beyond Sylvia?" Eliza repeated, "You mean back to my parents' murder?"

She still had the case file. She had all of the materials on her parents that she could. Those were files that weren't in Sylvia's hands, so maybe he was right. Maybe they needed to dive back headfirst into those old files and find something new. It had been some time since she looked back into it, but she had also come a long way. Maybe they were ready and she was ready.

Well, she had to be. The future of New York seemed to rely on it.

"Well," she said finally as she moved back towards the couch and settled down next to him. It made her uncomfortable to delve back into, but she pushed it down and continued. "I have all the files still. They're in my bag and I have a few boxes of stuff from my parents back at my place. If that helps at all."

 

[Nav]

Ok. It was decided, then. Eliza would get rid of her place and move in.

It all seemed to happen so fast. Comfortably, but fast. A part of him wondered if it was just because of what was going on and their situation, but he reasoned that all of their relationship was built on the external forces around them. It didn't make their relationship weak or superficial, quite the opposite in fact, and with those thoughts in mind, Rhett allowed himself to look forward to her moving in… officially. It didn't show in his face, as his expression was twisted into a grimace, but he was internally delighted at the news.

"Not just your parents' murder," he explained, "But that time. You weren't the only abduction. Your family wasn't the only one—so," his fingers tapped in a rhythmic pattern like they did when he was thinking. He was just trying to get any thought to push through the veil of pain that continued to consume him whole. "We should go back to that time entirely, explore some of those other families, those other children, too." There was no denying that Eliza's family was a very large part of what had happened and was continuing to happen.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the only part.

More importantly, Rhett knew Robinson wasn't smart enough or motivated enough to be acting alone. He was a good cop, but little else. An orchestrated event like he was being put on was well outside of Robinson's wheelhouse, Rhett believed, and Sylvia had been much too young at the time to be orchestrating anything but Barbie Dolls. There was something deeper than both Sylvia and Robinson. Something churning quietly below the surface… something that neither of them had encountered or touched upon yet.

What that was, Rhett hadn't a damn clue. Both Sylvia and Robinson were using it for their own personal gain. Somehow, Sylvia and Robinson were connected, and there was a mysterious force pushing its weight around that started nearly twenty years prior. His head was beginning to take the better of him and he rolled his head back, falling back against the sofa and closing his eyes.

"I am so tired," he admitted, "And nauseous." The migraine was making him sick to his stomach. His innards were churning, though it didn't feel like he was about to vomit… just be uncomfortable.

 

[Meraki]

"I'll see what I can manage to pull up once I'm back at the station," Eliza agreed and glanced back towards the window that was covered with curtains to shield Rhett and his migraine from the light. She knew what was beyond it, though. There was wreckage for miles, the kind that required every able-bodied police man and woman to be working tirelessly. Serve and protect, that was her job, but part of her couldn't help realize that Sylvia not only managed to destroy evidence but to make Eliza essentially fucking useless. There wasn't much she could do and there wasn't much she would do, honestly, while there were still people unaccounted for and families searching for answers. It was her job.

As much as a much younger Eliza would have hated to admit it, she joined the force and became a detective because she wanted to help people. A national tragedy like this? She had to do what she knew was right in her heart, even though she knew it was playing Sylvia's stupid game. But she supposed it was better to be a piece on the board and know you were a piece, than to be blind to the game all together. That's where she was, caught up in a game of Go where Rhett and Sylvia battled each other relentlessly and she knew they were the big players, too, because if it had been her? She would have broken the board.

"Don't worry about it now," Eliza exhaled as Rhett lulled his head back and complained about his stomach. She settled next to him, afraid to do too much to bother him, as he seemed pretty content to just lie with his eyes closed. She was covered in bruises and soot still, despite wiping a good amount of it off at the hospital. She smelled like smoke and her muscles ached with such ferocity that it actually hurt just as much to sit down as it did to stand up. But, she was given orders. She was not to return back to work for at least twenty four full hours or else she would risk permanent damage to her lungs, or if she really pushed it – death. None of those were things she wanted to test in theory, so she resided to her fate and remained with Rhett.

She peeled off her jacket gingerly and just uselessly dropped it to the ground beside the couch. She would pick it up when she managed to get up, but until then it was going to stay put.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said gently, "and a terrorist attack is about the worst that can happen right now – but we're already living it. I know it's easier said than done, but you just have to let it be for now. We'll figure it out."

 

[Nav]

"I suppose that is really all we can do at this point." He folded an arm over his eyes and kept his lids clenched shut, though little seemed to be helping him at that point.

There was so little left they could do and their situation brought to mind those little white lab mice put into mazes, but this one felt endless and incomplete, without an exit. They could make progress in one direction, only to be turned around once more. It felt that every attempt they made was met with dead end after dead end. His brain felt like even more of a maze and he was quickly finding himself trapped in a layer of confusing twists and turns over various planes of existence, neither of them leading to anywhere in particular.

Swallowed and very nearly consumed entirely by his own thoughts, Rhett curled an arm around Eliza's waist and turned over to his side so his face was partially buried against her thigh as she sat below him, pillowing his head in her lap. It was the most rested he had felt all day, and the most pain-free. Though the pain didn't dissipate entirely, it had become infinitely more tolerable with Eliza's fingers in his hair and the heat of her body below him. She was better than any morphine drip, able to numb every thought and every pain he had ever known.

"I suppose not much can make it any worse," he admitted. The only thing worse was having nuclear bombs raining from the sky, but he tried to not even think of what could make their lives any worse. For a damn minute, he needed to just relish the one good thing in his life: the flesh and bone of a woman who was below him, who loved him so, who he was keeping a secret from… His eyes opened sleepily, a clouded haze of milky blue. He was a man of secrets, Rhett Wolfhart, for so long. "Eliza," he began, beginning to hesitate so he could grab the right words without trying to stumble.

"I have an appointment tomorrow with a neurologist. Do you ever get a feeling, when you're out on a job and something isn't quite right? Well, something isn't quite right." With his brain, with his mind. Nothing had ever been quite right when it had come to such matters, but this was different, though he would never have been able to explain how or why that was so.

 

[Meraki]

They sat together for a moment, his head in her lap as her fingers worked through his hair. There was no rhyme or reason to the pattern, just lazy patterns that gave her something to focus on. Something other than death and destruction. For all the terrible in her life, Eliza had something good for once and she intended to make the most out of it. She had lost so much and every single day just felt like an uphill battle against a force she couldn't see, but being there with Rhett made her feel like there was something in this world for her. She had never needed to feel that before, but she supposed there was a part of her always desperately searching for it, and Rhett gave it to her. It wasn't a purpose, but instead the feeling that she was allowed a real, genuine life.

Not just chasing after murders and toting a gun. There was someone in the world who needed her, in or out of uniform.

His words broke her out of her thoughts and she glanced down at him, her blue eyes blinking in confusion for a moment as she processed what he said. His eyes were milky and clouded, a sight that made her heart thud painfully in her chest, because she knew there was nothing she could do. Eliza Madison would run through hell with her gun blazing to protect Rhett, but she couldn't get in his mind. There was no way for her to step inside and ease anything that he was feeling. But a neurologist was not just a doctor's appointment.

A neurologist was not just a Xanax or two.

She struggled to find the words for a moment. She knew something was wrong but she'd hardly thought it was more than a migraine, brought on by stress maybe, but something was wrong and it scared her. Deep down, she was terrified and the last thing she wanted was to express that fear when she was only affected by it, not the one living it day in and day out. "Okay," she breathed out finally after a moment of silence and her hand resumed in his hair. "I'm not working tomorrow, so can I go with you?"

"I understand if you want do -- I dunno," she shrugged, talking herself in circles a bit, "go it alone, but If something doesn't feel right, I'd like to be there with you through it. Even if there's nothing I can do to actually help."

 

[Nav]

Nothing I can do to actually help.

The words resounded within him deeply and entirely, consuming him down to the flesh and bone. It rang in him with enough power that he perked up and rose up on to his hands, a bend in his back, so he could make eye contact with Eliza. Their faces were only inches apart, gazes meeting, tangling, embracing somewhere in the middle of that space. "Eliza," he said, his voice firm, "You have done everything for me." The respect and love he had for her was, for lack of a better metaphor in his mind, like an aged cheese. It had become stronger with age, more mature, more robust. She was unfailingly kind and had always put him first and herself last. No matter how tired she had ever been, even after a long shift with the force, she had never become short with him… not with any of his problems, his crazy mind, his dependency on his drugs, his idiocrasies.

"You have done absolutely, positively everything for me. I have spent so much of my adult life believing I was unlovable because the two people on this planet programmed to love me, my parents, couldn't even unless they could mold me into someone else with drugs and therapy. Eliza, I—" he paused, finding more clarity in her moment of low self-esteem than he had in anything else in a long time. He didn't cry, but he could have. He was just so tired. He was just too tired. "I—I have everything in my life thanks to you. I have my life… thanks to you. I wouldn't have survived another year on whatever lunatic binge I had been on. I would have overdosed, or I would have mixed the wrong OTC with my medications, I…"

He sat back into the couch, pooling deeper into it as he crawled into a deep place internally. "I was committing suicide without even realize I was truly doing it. All this IQ, all this intelligence, yet there is so little I know and you opened my eyes to it—to all of it, and I keep… I keep waiting for the moment you realize that maybe, maybe I'm not worth it."

His hands knotted together in his lap and he was looking down at them with a burning intensity, as if they were the most interesting thing he had seen in quite some time. He frowned, the deep lines cutting into his cheeks and making him age several years when paired with the dark circles below his eyes. "What I'm trying to say is I don't want to go it alone anymore."

 

[Meraki]

Eliza immediately regretted the statement as he sat up. The last thing she wanted was for him to get worked up, but there he was proclaiming how she had done more than just take care of him – she saved him. It was a hard thing to realize that little orphan Eliza Madison could do much for anyone. Even in her job, she brought people to justice, it was very rare that she got the chance to save anyone. For so long she had wandered lost and suddenly she realized that she was found and had been for a long time.

And if he wanted to go it alone, she would let him because she loved him, but she would be there every step of the way in case he needed her. But to hear him say those words, to speak gently above the silence, it resonated somewhere deep in her. I don't want to go it alone anymore.

Neither did she. In an instant she had gone from living an empty, lonely life to having him. Even with all their flaws, Eliza knew that Rhett was the best thing to ever happen to her and she was not about to let that go. Whether true love or soulmates actually existed, she was not going to let go for anything. Not this time. "Then you'll never have to," she said simply, catching his gaze with her own. Her hands found his and she squeezed gently, allowing something of herself into his intense line of vision.

She brought one hand up to cup his cheek as she scooted closer to him, but her movements were gentle and slow as not to jostle him. "I can't take the pain away," she said softly, "I'm not a doctor, but I will be here for as long as you want me here. Come hell or high water, okay? I've never been able to be anything for anyone, but I want to be everything for you."

"And no matter what happens," she admitted, "I'll always be at your side because you are worth more than anything in this world to me, Rhett."

 

[Nav]

Rhett let his forehead fall against her shoulder, wrapping himself up in her warmth because despite everything, despite sleeping all day—he was exhausted. The pain still rung through him violently and thoroughly with as much force as a sledgehammer. Never before had he ever really concerned himself with trying to be the macho man of the family who never needed to be coddled because, damnit, being coddled felt good. Sometimes, it was just the medicine he needed to curl up in Eliza's embrace and just let himself be held for a while. The pounding in his head seemed to agree because it had finally dulled itself down to a resounding ache.

"I know you can't take the pain away, I'm not sure anyone will be able to." Not without some serious amount of drugs, and Rhett wasn't sure he was ready to venture down that road again. The headaches were sporadic and he could live through them when he had to, but it always concerned him wondering what the root cause of their existences were. Was it merely bad genetics? His brain overheating from thinking too hard, straining too much? Or did a problem run deeper than that, deeper into is physiology and psychology? It was time to know.

He had considered waiting it out, with everything else they were trying to go through: Sylvia, the cases, the terrorist attack… but now was better than ever to know. He needed to know. He couldn't spend his time worrying about both what was happening on the outside world, and what was happening inside of him. One thing had to give and while he couldn't control Sylvia and Robinson, he could control himself. That was really a small sense of control in his life he desperately needed, seeing as everything else felt as though it was violently spinning out of his grasp.

"Then we'll do it together because why the hell not?" he chuckled, almost bitterly, "It's just one more thing for us to get through, right? Just one more thing. We've gotten through a lot already, what's one more thing?" He wasn't worried about the appointment, mostly because all of his energy was spent trying to fend of the ache in his skull. "How are your lungs?" he asked, "How are you feeling?"

 

[Meraki]

"Just one more thing," Eliza chuckled, "That's how you have to do it sometimes. Just know that you've survived before, there's no reason you can't do it again." She had spent a lifetime with that mentality and despite all of her flaws, Eliza had endured and lived through some of the darkest the world had to offer. It wasn't easy – on the contrary it was difficult and it made her bones ache under the weight of her own existence, but she kept on living. Time and time again, Eliza overcame and now she was even making forward progress. For so long she had remained stagnant and just surviving, but since she met Rhett she began to build a real life for herself – one that included a future. It was hard as a foster kid to ever get attached to someone or somewhere too quickly, too entirely, but Rhett had broken all those walls down. Maybe she was still afraid, but she knew that even if he decided she wasn't worth the effort anymore, the hurt would be worth what they shared.


That, she realized, was actual love. Not just fluffy romantic movie love, but real, gritty love.


"Hm?" she glanced down at him curled in her embrace and she shrugged gently as not to jostle him. She hadn't thought about her lungs since coming home, despite the heaviness in her chest. It ached to breathe, to laugh, but it helped to be upright and as the adrenaline wore off from that morning, she found it easier to manage. It hurt, holy hell did it hurt, like breathing through knives lodged in her throat, but it was nothing that could be fixed. Maybe with a little rest, but she was too worried about him to even entertain such a thought. Even with her muscles crying out under the abuse from lifting debris and carrying people out of the wreckage. Going to the neurologist was a massive step for Rhett and she just wanted to be there in that moment.


To hold him, to run her fingers through his hair and press lazy kisses to his temple.


"I'm alright," she admitted, "Doctor said as long as I'm not out in the smoke and debris that I can't really fuck up the healing process. I'll be fine come morning, I'm sure of it."


She wasn't sure of it, but she knew that no matter how she felt she would keep moving. They couldn't afford to remain in one place forever. He had to figure his brain out, she had to push through the pain, and every day they would get closer to answers, but they just had to keep moving. "I think going to Wisconsin spoiled me," she added with a bit of a smirk, "I could count the sick days I've voluntarily taken since joining the force on one hand and now here I am actually enjoying mandatory medical leave."


"I must be going soft," she teased.

 

[Nav]

"One thing at a time," he agreed, "One thing, I think I can only handle one thing at a time and there isn't much we can do about what is going on outside right now. You'll just need to look into those files again and I…" he didn't know what he needed to do. He wasn't even sure where to begin with Sylvia because she felt so many impossible steps ahead of him, of them. For the next day though, he just needed to worry about his own health and seeing what he could do to get better.

Talking about Eliza was good for him though because it took away his thoughts from his own self. He hummed contentedly, unhappy that she was in pain but glad that the doctors seemed to think she would recover without incident. "You should get a respirator," he mentioned idly, "I know the fire department has them—they must, by law. You should be supplied one." A respirator would save her lungs when she inevitably went back out to work. He knew her, she'd go back to work as soon as she was able to… and as soon as Rhett was out of the neurologist's office and back home.

The warmth of the kiss she pressed to his temple caused little bursts of healing electricity to zap from her touch and seep into his bones. His eyes closed again and he sighed, his body sagging into her as he lost control of his muscles. It felt like he was a bowl of Jell-o—solid, but barely, like with too much heat he'd just melt into a puddle of liquid.

"Hm," he smirked a little, just enough of an inflection at the corner of his lips to turn them up into the dimples of his cheeks, "Maybe you are starting to go soft. It's okay, I kinda like it." The woman he had first met had been cold and hard, scarred by the universe around her and unwilling to trust anyone… or anything except her own wit and her gun. He hadn't asked Eliza to change, not ever, but the woman she had become was more than anything he could have asked for in a mate. She was tender and loving, protective in equal measure he was of her, and she never expected more than being loved and respected. Both of which Rhett gave to her in ample amounts.

"Could you imagine what Linda would think of you if she saw you now? Sitting here with your hands tangled in my hair, moving in together?"

 

[Meraki]

As Rhett relaxed deeper into her, she adjusted herself to hold him and keep her fingers busy in his growing locks. They were longer than they had been when they met, which she supposed was not too surprising given that time passed every single day. When he smirked, she laughed a breathy, quiet laugh and shook her own head. A bit of a cough bubbled up in her, be managed to clear her throat and keep it down. She was going soft, but that wasn't a bad thing. Sometimes she wondered what would have been different about her life had her parents lived and she experienced the love she deserved. How would it have changed her not to experience the pain and abandonment that came from foster home after foster home – how her threshold for pain would have differed were she not abused over and over by the world around her. Eliza still had her wit and most certainly had her gun, but there was something ignited in her that laid dormant for so long.

Rhett hadn't changed her as much as he had uncovered and nurtured the bright parts of her that had been snuffed out so long ago. He picked them up gingerly, dusted them off and settled them back into the correct places in her heart until eventually the light grew and it filled her. This Eliza, the woman she was now, had always been there dormant under the surface, just waiting for someone like Rhett to come along.

"I'll have a lot to answer at Christmas, that's for sure," Eliza laughed, "though I think she knew when I brought you over that this was different, that I was a bit different."

"I haven't had the time to talk to her much, but I'll give her a call when this is all over. She texted me to tell me her and the kids were safe after the explosion, but I'm sure she would like to talk my ear off all about you. She was so taken with you when she met you. And not just because she enjoyed the fact you weren't sneaking in through my bedroom window."

"I put that woman through hell and a half," Eliza smirked with a tease, "I don't know how you both deal with me."

 

[Nav]

"I deal with you because you don't make me sneak through the bedroom window."

He probably would have, though, for Eliza. Nothing about Rhett had ever been rebellious of troublesome—he had done well in school, hadn't gotten in too much trouble, and had been a fairly easy child. He did his chores, he never stayed out late, he never partied… mostly because no one had ever really wanted to party with him. The kids he had gone to school with had seen nothing but a slightly greasy, tall, knobby, poor kid wearing secondhand clothes in a very well-to-do highschool. Other problems had been sorted through the use of medications, making him much easier than either of his sisters.

One had gone out and partied every weekend, getting herself pregnant not once—but twice—before her high school graduation. The other had gotten herself arrested for drunk driving and had gone to detox several times after particularly interesting ragers. He was no better than his sisters, especially since his own problems had followed him into adulthood but… but maybe he would have been a little more explorative in life had Eliza come along earlier. Or, maybe not… maybe he never would have had the confidence or gumption to go up to her. Hell, she probably never would have even glanced at him twice had he not stepped into her office making wild accusations (not unsupported, mind you) regarding the man she saw as a father.

Funny how life worked like that.

"Next Christmas is a very long ways away," he reminded her, "But I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear from you as soon as you can reach out to her… just to know you're safe and well. My mother called today to ensure we were both well, too." They hadn't talked long though as Rhett had been eager to get off the phone—the sitting up and talking had been hard on him, but it was nice to know she cared enough to call.

Huffing out a deep breath, Rhett rolled to try and find a more comfortable position for his head, but no amount of moving or shifting would ever help; the suffering felt eternal, but at least he would have answers soon. He needed answers, he couldn't go on living wondering, questioning. Once he had an answer, regardless of what it was, he could turn his eyes back to Sylvia once and for all.