Word Count: 799
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The ARC had been operational for 912 days and right now he felt each one weighing on him (sequel to
Convalescence)
James hadn't planned on following Alex to Lanzarote, it had just... happened. Well, not just. When she'd walked out after he'd ordered her to take a break, he knew he'd made a mistake. That he'd hurt her again. But there was a lot of shit flying around in the aftermath of Helen's bomb and he'd be damned before he allowed Alex to be hit by it.
Lay in the villa bed, the room shrouded in darkness, he could acknowledge that he was worn thin. The ARC had been operational for 912 days and right now he felt each one weighing on him. Every death. The responsibility choked him, and the last thing he'd needed had been the Minister of Defence questioning whether he was up to the task. Deepening his own doubts.
He got out of bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping Alexis, and went to the patio window. Stars sparkled in the sky and the three-quarter moon was bright. Its light caught the breaking surf; the crashing waves the only sound other than the deep sigh which escaped him as he took in the night's calm beauty.
Closing his eyes, James leaned his forehead against the glass, letting the cool of it soothe his banging head. It was down to exhaustion, yet he couldn't settle enough to sleep, even after being thoroughly put through his paces by Alex. Now the afterglow had faded, guilt was shouting at him, claiming that he shouldn't have left. Sanity told him otherwise - he'd had to get out of London before it swallowed him whole. He had, he acknowledged, run away. Bolted to the only port that could shield him from the storm consuming his soul.
He turned back to look at her. The bane of his existence. The mistress of his heart. She'd never have been back in his life had it not been for the anomalies, yet he'd almost lost her to the same. Memories of the blood on his hands were one of the many things keeping him awake. Helen was the other, and he ought to have been more proactive on that front. First order of business when the ARC finally reopened was a review of their security. The MoD had promised him a larger force. He was determined to keep everyone safe this time.
James grabbed his dressing gown and pulled it on against the cool of the evening. The bottle of red they'd bought and not quite finished called to him. Drink was probably not the best solution, but it was the one he had to hand. Anyway, it'd be a glass and a half at most, so not enough to send him into an alcoholic oblivion. He'd mixed feelings about that.
It was hard to stay afloat. To keep sailing on through when events seemed determined to drag him under. He fought because giving up wasn't in his nature. Alex had called him pig-headed but he'd not been insulted. Life was unkind and the only way one survived it was by being stubborn. He'd learned that young, along with how to be independent. Self-reliant.
Hands settled on his shoulders. He reached back and caught her wrist, pulled her down on to his lap. She wound one hand in his hair. He met her eyes and saw understanding in their brown depths. His hands drifted over her bare skin, soft and still warm from the bed, reassuring himself that she was there. Real and solid and alive. She rested her head on his shoulder and he buried his face in her hair.
"I need you." A confession dragged out from the deepest part of him, rough with the pain of it all. "Alex."
"You have me," she whispered, and kissed his cheek. Held him tight. "I've got you, James."
Eyes closed, he clasped her as he breathed her in and the agony out. He had two days before he had to go back, but right now, in the shelter of her arms, he could lay the burden down. Through it, she stroked his hair and murmured loving reassurances. She leaned her forehead against his and her tears dropped on to his face. Mingled with his own.
Eventually there was nothing left to let go of. He felt utterly drained, but somehow lighter. He gave Alex a weak smile and she patted his cheek. Her kiss tasted salty, then sweet, and the hollow inside him filled with liquid heat. A niggle pushed at his heart, the pressure increasing until he'd no choice but to put words to the emotion raging through him.
"I love you."
Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise. Then a smile softened her face and she kissed him again. Against his lips, she breathed three little words.
"About damn time."