(no subject)
Title: You brought me home
Rating: K+
Summary: one-shot, spoilers for Bloodlines.
You brought me home
Two simple thoughts, but everything but, were exchanging in Nikki Alexander’s mind. The first one was that Harry was dead. And that she had to bring him home.
One was unbearable; the other one was, well… a task. A job needed to be done. Something to concentrate on, something to hold on, as long as you don’t think about it too deeply. Think about booking a ticket, think about bureaucracy, think about Leo, and just don’t think about the fact.
That Harry was dead.
When Leo called, she knew it. She could read it in her older friend’s voice. That he has lost a friend, a brother, a son. That a tragedy happened again. Harry was dead.
She had to bring him home.
Through the big window of her hotel room she saw that sun was shining, world was going on, people were moving fast, everyone with their own problems, with their own lives. How was possible that everything has moved on? That life moved on. That she lost who she cared most for and was still here, like a fugitive intruder in some normal world.
She didn’t care if anyone was watching. It didn’t matter. Nothing could hurt anymore because the worst has already happened. Harry was…
She felt her head burning, panic rising somewhere in her stomach, she started trembling like having a high fever, but it didn’t matter. If she could see him just once, if she could tell him that she loved him, if she could, no, if she did, maybe none of this would’ve happened.
She felt tears falling, so hot that they seemed to be burning her cheeks, like a drops of acid. But she liked it, physical pain was bearable. But it couldn’t take her mind out of the fact, no, not even for a moment she could not put away the truth, that Harry was dead.
Like waking from a bad dream, suddenly she felt his presence, saw her hands embracing her from behind, his fingers entwining with hers on her stomach. She felt his head on her right shoulder and she leant back feeling strength of his strong body. Nikki then rubbed her cheek on his, feeling his few days old beard tickling her, but it felt divine. It was Harry. His smell filled her nostrils, perfect mixture of his aftershave, of his hair gel and some other smell that was so distinctively Harry.
Suddenly she smelt something else… the smell of burning flesh, of burning hair. She completely lost the control of her muscles as she fell on her knees and threw up.
Harry was dead and she wished she was, too.
She had no strength to rationalise, to go to bathroom, to answer her cell phone, to clean up. No.
All she could do was crawl in her bed. And it was so cold.
Another thought came to her, the one worse than any other. The one that caused her to lose her mind, or what was left of it, completely.
The thought of Harry’s last moments. How must’ve he felt when he saw his lover killed, when he had to run, when he was faced with a killer in the country where he knew no one, could trust no one. When he was running away from a murdered, when he stared in his killer’s eyes, knowing it was the last second of his life. How did it feel if he was still alive when he was burnt? If he could smell the petrol and his own burning flesh?
Harry was petrified, chased, tortured and brutally murdered. Nikki wanted to disappear. All that she could think of was just how much she wished she could’ve been there with him. If it would take away a tiny little bit of his pain, she wanted that she could’ve been there. It was so unnatural that she wasn’t with him. That he died alone. On some filthy street, petrified, alone and cold.
She felt that her hair was wet with sweat and a panic and urge to throw up rising again, even if she hadn’t eaten more than a two slices of bread since she’s found out.
Irrational thought came. Another one. He will be back in 48 hours, in and out, she remembered their jokes from the last time she saw him. Maybe if she goes back, she’ll realize that none of this happened, he’ll be back on Monday, everything will be alright. Except that she’ll run into his arms and never leave again. Except that she’ll tell him what she has always wanted to but expected that there’ll be time.
When he comes back, she’ll hug him and tell him that she loves him, she’ll run her fingers through his beautiful hair…
and again… smell of a burning flesh, of a burning hair filled her nostrils and she lost her conscious, feeling something strange in her stomach.
When she opened her eyes Nikki was still in bed. But this was not the same bed. For a moment she didn’t know where she was and then… she saw familiar green eyes and her world was safe and certain again. She saw the owner of the eyes putting hand on her stomach.
“Mummy, baby’s moving” her six-years old daughter screamed, gently rubbing Nikki’s bump. Little girl’s face changed when she looked back at her mother as she saw she was crying.
“Why are you crying, mum? When will dad be back?”
Nikki felt tears rising again, but just pulled her daughter in her arms, gently rubbing her wild dark brown hair.
“Don’t you worry about that” Nikki answered her lips forming a smile when she saw that her daughter was wearing Harry’s stethoscope around her neck.
“You’ve been busy, it seems. Playing with the things you’re not supposed to” she said pretending to be angry.
“I am sorry, Mum. But dad doesn’t use it. You see, dead people’s hearts don’t beat anymore” six-years old said knowingly.
“I wonder from who you got your brains” Nikki asked giggling and sitting up in bed.
She was nine months pregnant, two days over her due date today and her whole body ached.
“You, of course” she heard his voice. Harry was indeed standing in the doorframe of their bedroom, tired look on his face. Little girl jumped of the bed and into her father’s arms as he dropped his work bag, lifted her and tickled causing her to giggle.
“You got your mother’s brains and laughter” he said, his look falling on her wife in the bed. “Now go and get ready, your ballet class starts in half an hour” he said to his daughter laughing on the look of his stethoscope around her neck.
“You see, she’s obviously re-thinking her choice of career” Nikki said seriously.
“You are mocking me” little girl said, she seemed more adult than her parents, “I can be both, doctor and ballerina, even pathologist and ballerina” she said proudly.
“You can be whatever you want to be” her parents said in the same voice, causing little girl to smile running to her room to get ready.
For some time they stared at each other, in silence smiling as sharing the same thought, of how brilliant and beautiful their little girl was.
“Hard case?” Nikki suddenly asked.
“You are happy you don’t have to work” he said placing a kiss on her bump.
“I’d be on call tonight if you’d give birth to our son” she said causing her husband to giggle.
He then noticed her eyes were red, her hair wet with sweat.
“Are you alright? You’ve been crying?” he asked worried.
“It’s nothing. I just had a bad dream.”
“Was I with you?” he asked.
“No” she said quietly avoiding his look.
“Well, that explains it” he said, his joke tearing away memory of the nightmare.
“I’ll always be here. It’s not just you and me, we are family of four, now” Harry said, as he pressed his forehead on Nikki’s feeling her smile.
“Now wait here till I get our pathologist ballerina from her class and then we should go and see a doctor about this little guy not wanting to get out.”
“You know he’ll just say that we’ll have to induce labour” Nikki said, pressing small kiss to his lips.
“In that case, my mum can have her granddaughter this afternoon and when I get back we’ll try the most famous way of inducing labour” Harry said, causing them both to giggle.
Rating: K+
Summary: one-shot, spoilers for Bloodlines.
You brought me home
Two simple thoughts, but everything but, were exchanging in Nikki Alexander’s mind. The first one was that Harry was dead. And that she had to bring him home.
One was unbearable; the other one was, well… a task. A job needed to be done. Something to concentrate on, something to hold on, as long as you don’t think about it too deeply. Think about booking a ticket, think about bureaucracy, think about Leo, and just don’t think about the fact.
That Harry was dead.
When Leo called, she knew it. She could read it in her older friend’s voice. That he has lost a friend, a brother, a son. That a tragedy happened again. Harry was dead.
She had to bring him home.
Through the big window of her hotel room she saw that sun was shining, world was going on, people were moving fast, everyone with their own problems, with their own lives. How was possible that everything has moved on? That life moved on. That she lost who she cared most for and was still here, like a fugitive intruder in some normal world.
She didn’t care if anyone was watching. It didn’t matter. Nothing could hurt anymore because the worst has already happened. Harry was…
She felt her head burning, panic rising somewhere in her stomach, she started trembling like having a high fever, but it didn’t matter. If she could see him just once, if she could tell him that she loved him, if she could, no, if she did, maybe none of this would’ve happened.
She felt tears falling, so hot that they seemed to be burning her cheeks, like a drops of acid. But she liked it, physical pain was bearable. But it couldn’t take her mind out of the fact, no, not even for a moment she could not put away the truth, that Harry was dead.
Like waking from a bad dream, suddenly she felt his presence, saw her hands embracing her from behind, his fingers entwining with hers on her stomach. She felt his head on her right shoulder and she leant back feeling strength of his strong body. Nikki then rubbed her cheek on his, feeling his few days old beard tickling her, but it felt divine. It was Harry. His smell filled her nostrils, perfect mixture of his aftershave, of his hair gel and some other smell that was so distinctively Harry.
Suddenly she smelt something else… the smell of burning flesh, of burning hair. She completely lost the control of her muscles as she fell on her knees and threw up.
Harry was dead and she wished she was, too.
She had no strength to rationalise, to go to bathroom, to answer her cell phone, to clean up. No.
All she could do was crawl in her bed. And it was so cold.
Another thought came to her, the one worse than any other. The one that caused her to lose her mind, or what was left of it, completely.
The thought of Harry’s last moments. How must’ve he felt when he saw his lover killed, when he had to run, when he was faced with a killer in the country where he knew no one, could trust no one. When he was running away from a murdered, when he stared in his killer’s eyes, knowing it was the last second of his life. How did it feel if he was still alive when he was burnt? If he could smell the petrol and his own burning flesh?
Harry was petrified, chased, tortured and brutally murdered. Nikki wanted to disappear. All that she could think of was just how much she wished she could’ve been there with him. If it would take away a tiny little bit of his pain, she wanted that she could’ve been there. It was so unnatural that she wasn’t with him. That he died alone. On some filthy street, petrified, alone and cold.
She felt that her hair was wet with sweat and a panic and urge to throw up rising again, even if she hadn’t eaten more than a two slices of bread since she’s found out.
Irrational thought came. Another one. He will be back in 48 hours, in and out, she remembered their jokes from the last time she saw him. Maybe if she goes back, she’ll realize that none of this happened, he’ll be back on Monday, everything will be alright. Except that she’ll run into his arms and never leave again. Except that she’ll tell him what she has always wanted to but expected that there’ll be time.
When he comes back, she’ll hug him and tell him that she loves him, she’ll run her fingers through his beautiful hair…
and again… smell of a burning flesh, of a burning hair filled her nostrils and she lost her conscious, feeling something strange in her stomach.
When she opened her eyes Nikki was still in bed. But this was not the same bed. For a moment she didn’t know where she was and then… she saw familiar green eyes and her world was safe and certain again. She saw the owner of the eyes putting hand on her stomach.
“Mummy, baby’s moving” her six-years old daughter screamed, gently rubbing Nikki’s bump. Little girl’s face changed when she looked back at her mother as she saw she was crying.
“Why are you crying, mum? When will dad be back?”
Nikki felt tears rising again, but just pulled her daughter in her arms, gently rubbing her wild dark brown hair.
“Don’t you worry about that” Nikki answered her lips forming a smile when she saw that her daughter was wearing Harry’s stethoscope around her neck.
“You’ve been busy, it seems. Playing with the things you’re not supposed to” she said pretending to be angry.
“I am sorry, Mum. But dad doesn’t use it. You see, dead people’s hearts don’t beat anymore” six-years old said knowingly.
“I wonder from who you got your brains” Nikki asked giggling and sitting up in bed.
She was nine months pregnant, two days over her due date today and her whole body ached.
“You, of course” she heard his voice. Harry was indeed standing in the doorframe of their bedroom, tired look on his face. Little girl jumped of the bed and into her father’s arms as he dropped his work bag, lifted her and tickled causing her to giggle.
“You got your mother’s brains and laughter” he said, his look falling on her wife in the bed. “Now go and get ready, your ballet class starts in half an hour” he said to his daughter laughing on the look of his stethoscope around her neck.
“You see, she’s obviously re-thinking her choice of career” Nikki said seriously.
“You are mocking me” little girl said, she seemed more adult than her parents, “I can be both, doctor and ballerina, even pathologist and ballerina” she said proudly.
“You can be whatever you want to be” her parents said in the same voice, causing little girl to smile running to her room to get ready.
For some time they stared at each other, in silence smiling as sharing the same thought, of how brilliant and beautiful their little girl was.
“Hard case?” Nikki suddenly asked.
“You are happy you don’t have to work” he said placing a kiss on her bump.
“I’d be on call tonight if you’d give birth to our son” she said causing her husband to giggle.
He then noticed her eyes were red, her hair wet with sweat.
“Are you alright? You’ve been crying?” he asked worried.
“It’s nothing. I just had a bad dream.”
“Was I with you?” he asked.
“No” she said quietly avoiding his look.
“Well, that explains it” he said, his joke tearing away memory of the nightmare.
“I’ll always be here. It’s not just you and me, we are family of four, now” Harry said, as he pressed his forehead on Nikki’s feeling her smile.
“Now wait here till I get our pathologist ballerina from her class and then we should go and see a doctor about this little guy not wanting to get out.”
“You know he’ll just say that we’ll have to induce labour” Nikki said, pressing small kiss to his lips.
“In that case, my mum can have her granddaughter this afternoon and when I get back we’ll try the most famous way of inducing labour” Harry said, causing them both to giggle.