Fic for sarren - Hurt/Comfort Sequence - Parts 3 & 4
Hurt/Comfort Sequence - Parts 1 & 2 (including full header information)
Title: Crash
Pairing: Lewis/Hathaway pre-slash
Rating: U
Wordcount: 546
Notes: hc_bingo prompt "accidents".
Summary: As a cop, James has seen his share of traffic accidents.
As a cop, James has seen his share of traffic accidents, some fatal, some minor. Some that are easily brushed aside, some that will have lingering effects for years.
He never actually thought about those effects in detail. The physical side is obvious: some injuries never heal. He logs them, maybe testifies in court, and that is that. Deaths are awful, such a waste, but he can always move on. Write it down, move to the next case.
When he meets Lewis the old man could be limping, bleeding, horribly scarred - that obvious are the after-effects of the accident that changed his life. His scars are on the inside, born as much from the loss of wife as the inability to get the man responsible. He is a copper as well as a spouse and it doesn't take long for James to realise how badly his new boss is still affected by the hit and run.
At first he observes it, superficially empathising with the man, like any casual observer might. Then, as his own affection grows, the knowledge of the other man's pain grows as well, and his hurts become James'.
He needs the closure, too, for Lewis.
That is why he spends his precious free time going through hundreds of news clippings in the hidden room. He doesn't really believe they will find anything but he has to be there, has to be there for Lewis. Has to, because he recognises the scars, and wants to help heal them. No, not quite that. He doesn't think he can really do that. But maybe some closure would help them heal cleanly. They will always be there, but maybe they can stop bleeding.
He knows Lewis has come a long way from the tired old man he picked up from the airport. He looks much younger these days, sleeps better, eats better, and seems to have regained something, maybe a sense of purpose, that seemed to be missing from the man in the hideous shirt.
Maybe, if he can just put this one accident behind him, he can be even more whole. Maybe he can let go of his wife and... and find someone who is not as unsuitable for him as the women he seems to go for these days.
Is it the cop in James who worries at the Monkford case like a dog with a bone, or is it the concerned friend? Or is it a man with vested interest in the healing of those wounds?
He doesn't know nor does he care because the end result is the same. He has to help Lewis find closure because a guilty man is out there, and an innocent man is suffering for it.
It's not like he thinks that putting the man in prison will instantly stop the after-effects of the accident for his boss but he knows it will do something.
It's as much for himself as for Lewis that he sits in court with him. Support, yes, but also the very basic need to see it through.
He wasn't hurt in the accident, nor did he even know the people involved at the time.
He would never have believed how much a case not directly involving him could affect his life.
***
Recipient: sarren
Title: You Give Love a Bad Name
Pairings: Mentions of Hathaway/Fiona, Hathaway/Zoë, Hathaway/Scarlett, implied future Hathaway/Lewis
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1176
Notes: hc_bingo prompt "gunshot wounds".
Spoilers: The Dead of Winter
Summary: Having been shot is not actually why he hurts.
"To be honest, I'm not sure I want to wake up in twenty years' time with nothing more to show than a life spent picking though other people's misery."
He means the words when he says them, he looks at his boss and sees his future and it chokes him, makes him clutch Scarlett even closer to his heart, his side, but she's about to marry another man, and is not really the girl he remembers, and there's the murder - his job - to think of.
It doesn't justify hurting his boss, his friend, the man who has given him more chances than anyone could expect, already, and sleeping with a witness - suspect - in a murder investigation... He should feel so bad about that, and he does, but he knows it's for the wrong reasons and he's so full of everything he feels like exploding, feels like he can't breathe.
Time is running out, Scarlett is going to marry the other guy and his career is in ruins and Lewis is mad at him, again, and damn, he can't even separate in his mind which of these hurts him the most.
He tells himself it's Scarlett but, when it counts, being a policeman wins. In the end he has no problem seeing her as a suspect, or treating her as one, and damn his past, damn her family, Lewis was right and this is not going to end pretty.
Still, he has to ask. With his bullet wound cleaned and stitched, his arm throbbing in a sling, watching her being loaded into a police car, going down for her family, he has to ask. Her words feel like another bullet, and again - still - he can't breathe.
"You're not one of us."
- - -
Lewis drives him home. They're quiet in the car, and James can't help but go over everything again and again in his mind. He feels numb.
Lewis doesn't say a word but drives them to his place, instead. James is fiercely glad he doesn't have to be alone with his thoughts.
“Do you know what she said?” he asks quietly after Lewis has deposited him on the sofa and has gone to make tea, judging from the sounds coming from behind him. “'You're not one of us.'”
His numbness is gone, replaced by burning anger.
“And dammit, I'm glad, I'm glad I'm not like them, doing anything to keep the good name clean, but it still bloody hurts! I know how to choose them, don't I? Fiona... she didn't want anything to tie her here, to keep her back, she wanted light, but I can't do that, I can't be that, I had to complicate everything, and it's not like I planned to fall for a co-worker. Zoë - Feardorcha - isn't that just the best? She - he - she told me what I wanted - needed - to hear because no one ever said it to her, and maybe she really cared the most because at least she drugged me first!” He can't stop the rant once he has started, everything he has been keeping bottled pouring out to an unwilling audience. He tells himself it's the pain of the wound, even as he knows that's not really why it hurts. “Why do I even bother? What's the point? What is wrong with me?”
“Love is never wrong,” says Lewis, quietly, quoting Will and suddenly James is crying.
It must look as ugly as it sounds, his body trembling with the sobs that feel like they are torn out of his body, and then Lewis is there, handing him a tissue, resting a hand on his shoulder, and he leans forward, desperate for his warmth, and Lewis pulls him to his side.
He didn't mean to fall for a co-worker, again. Did he latch onto Scarlett so desperately to avoid facing the fact he has done so again?
He meets Lewis' eyes, for once not caring what his own are revealing. Too much, because Lewis sits up, his face changing.
“Lad...”
He shakes his head, tears still falling. Not now. He can't hear this now, but Lewis doesn't look shocked or disgusted or any of the expressions he expected. He looks almost sad.
“Now is not the time,” he says, quietly, but leans closer again, letting James rest against his warm body.
Eventually he calms down, and soothed by the touch of another human, falls asleep.
- - -
Much later, floating on a cloud of pain medication, safely tucked into a corner of Lewis' sofa, he feels it. Relaxation, the band around his chest easing, drawing a breath, then another, blood filled with oxygen again.
"I'm sorry," he says into the silence.
"About?" Lewis asks, like he's forgotten, or then there are too many things he thinks James should apologise for.
"Earlier. What I said. I wasn't being fair. It's not like you chose... to be alone."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not! I was out of line and..."
"But you're right. At your age I already had a family to go home to after work, something more, something to ground me. And I did not choose to be alone now."
He pauses, staring into the distance.
"My grandmother had a habit of repeating herself, as old people do - don't say it, James - and one of the sayings she loved was 'Man proposes, God disposes.'"
"Homo proponit sed Deus disponit," James quotes, solemnly.
Lewis' glare could be translated as 'show off' or even 'get out'. To James it says, 'you're forgiven'.
He smiles for what feels like the first time since the beginning of the case and rests his head against the back of the sofa. In no time at all he is asleep.
- - -
The half an hour of sleep he got on Lewis' sofa before the older man woke him up is the best he's had in days.
Lewis drives him home, helps him remove the sling and hovers while he changes his clothes.
"I'll manage," he says, when his fingers slip clumsily on the buttons and Lewis moves closer to help. He doesn't think he could handle his help now, can't bear to have him so close, not when he's this vulnerable.
He knows which hurts worst, now. Not Scarlett, not even the job - which he has miraculously kept, again, thanks to Lewis... No. It's the fear of disappointing this man. Of losing his friendship, his presence, his... affection.
"I'll be fine," he says, for what feels like the dozenth time but yet he is glad to have Lewis there. Not out of duty but caring.
- - -
Days turn to weeks and his arm heals. He has a new scar, an endless reminder of how he almost lost everything again.
But the memory is not all bad. Lewis said “not now,” he didn't say “not ever.”
He looks at his boss and sees his future, and this time it doesn't frighten him.
Hurt/Comfort Sequence - Parts 5 & 6
Title: Crash
Pairing: Lewis/Hathaway pre-slash
Rating: U
Wordcount: 546
Notes: hc_bingo prompt "accidents".
Summary: As a cop, James has seen his share of traffic accidents.
As a cop, James has seen his share of traffic accidents, some fatal, some minor. Some that are easily brushed aside, some that will have lingering effects for years.
He never actually thought about those effects in detail. The physical side is obvious: some injuries never heal. He logs them, maybe testifies in court, and that is that. Deaths are awful, such a waste, but he can always move on. Write it down, move to the next case.
When he meets Lewis the old man could be limping, bleeding, horribly scarred - that obvious are the after-effects of the accident that changed his life. His scars are on the inside, born as much from the loss of wife as the inability to get the man responsible. He is a copper as well as a spouse and it doesn't take long for James to realise how badly his new boss is still affected by the hit and run.
At first he observes it, superficially empathising with the man, like any casual observer might. Then, as his own affection grows, the knowledge of the other man's pain grows as well, and his hurts become James'.
He needs the closure, too, for Lewis.
That is why he spends his precious free time going through hundreds of news clippings in the hidden room. He doesn't really believe they will find anything but he has to be there, has to be there for Lewis. Has to, because he recognises the scars, and wants to help heal them. No, not quite that. He doesn't think he can really do that. But maybe some closure would help them heal cleanly. They will always be there, but maybe they can stop bleeding.
He knows Lewis has come a long way from the tired old man he picked up from the airport. He looks much younger these days, sleeps better, eats better, and seems to have regained something, maybe a sense of purpose, that seemed to be missing from the man in the hideous shirt.
Maybe, if he can just put this one accident behind him, he can be even more whole. Maybe he can let go of his wife and... and find someone who is not as unsuitable for him as the women he seems to go for these days.
Is it the cop in James who worries at the Monkford case like a dog with a bone, or is it the concerned friend? Or is it a man with vested interest in the healing of those wounds?
He doesn't know nor does he care because the end result is the same. He has to help Lewis find closure because a guilty man is out there, and an innocent man is suffering for it.
It's not like he thinks that putting the man in prison will instantly stop the after-effects of the accident for his boss but he knows it will do something.
It's as much for himself as for Lewis that he sits in court with him. Support, yes, but also the very basic need to see it through.
He wasn't hurt in the accident, nor did he even know the people involved at the time.
He would never have believed how much a case not directly involving him could affect his life.
***
Recipient: sarren
Title: You Give Love a Bad Name
Pairings: Mentions of Hathaway/Fiona, Hathaway/Zoë, Hathaway/Scarlett, implied future Hathaway/Lewis
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 1176
Notes: hc_bingo prompt "gunshot wounds".
Spoilers: The Dead of Winter
Summary: Having been shot is not actually why he hurts.
"To be honest, I'm not sure I want to wake up in twenty years' time with nothing more to show than a life spent picking though other people's misery."
He means the words when he says them, he looks at his boss and sees his future and it chokes him, makes him clutch Scarlett even closer to his heart, his side, but she's about to marry another man, and is not really the girl he remembers, and there's the murder - his job - to think of.
It doesn't justify hurting his boss, his friend, the man who has given him more chances than anyone could expect, already, and sleeping with a witness - suspect - in a murder investigation... He should feel so bad about that, and he does, but he knows it's for the wrong reasons and he's so full of everything he feels like exploding, feels like he can't breathe.
Time is running out, Scarlett is going to marry the other guy and his career is in ruins and Lewis is mad at him, again, and damn, he can't even separate in his mind which of these hurts him the most.
He tells himself it's Scarlett but, when it counts, being a policeman wins. In the end he has no problem seeing her as a suspect, or treating her as one, and damn his past, damn her family, Lewis was right and this is not going to end pretty.
Still, he has to ask. With his bullet wound cleaned and stitched, his arm throbbing in a sling, watching her being loaded into a police car, going down for her family, he has to ask. Her words feel like another bullet, and again - still - he can't breathe.
"You're not one of us."
- - -
Lewis drives him home. They're quiet in the car, and James can't help but go over everything again and again in his mind. He feels numb.
Lewis doesn't say a word but drives them to his place, instead. James is fiercely glad he doesn't have to be alone with his thoughts.
“Do you know what she said?” he asks quietly after Lewis has deposited him on the sofa and has gone to make tea, judging from the sounds coming from behind him. “'You're not one of us.'”
His numbness is gone, replaced by burning anger.
“And dammit, I'm glad, I'm glad I'm not like them, doing anything to keep the good name clean, but it still bloody hurts! I know how to choose them, don't I? Fiona... she didn't want anything to tie her here, to keep her back, she wanted light, but I can't do that, I can't be that, I had to complicate everything, and it's not like I planned to fall for a co-worker. Zoë - Feardorcha - isn't that just the best? She - he - she told me what I wanted - needed - to hear because no one ever said it to her, and maybe she really cared the most because at least she drugged me first!” He can't stop the rant once he has started, everything he has been keeping bottled pouring out to an unwilling audience. He tells himself it's the pain of the wound, even as he knows that's not really why it hurts. “Why do I even bother? What's the point? What is wrong with me?”
“Love is never wrong,” says Lewis, quietly, quoting Will and suddenly James is crying.
It must look as ugly as it sounds, his body trembling with the sobs that feel like they are torn out of his body, and then Lewis is there, handing him a tissue, resting a hand on his shoulder, and he leans forward, desperate for his warmth, and Lewis pulls him to his side.
He didn't mean to fall for a co-worker, again. Did he latch onto Scarlett so desperately to avoid facing the fact he has done so again?
He meets Lewis' eyes, for once not caring what his own are revealing. Too much, because Lewis sits up, his face changing.
“Lad...”
He shakes his head, tears still falling. Not now. He can't hear this now, but Lewis doesn't look shocked or disgusted or any of the expressions he expected. He looks almost sad.
“Now is not the time,” he says, quietly, but leans closer again, letting James rest against his warm body.
Eventually he calms down, and soothed by the touch of another human, falls asleep.
- - -
Much later, floating on a cloud of pain medication, safely tucked into a corner of Lewis' sofa, he feels it. Relaxation, the band around his chest easing, drawing a breath, then another, blood filled with oxygen again.
"I'm sorry," he says into the silence.
"About?" Lewis asks, like he's forgotten, or then there are too many things he thinks James should apologise for.
"Earlier. What I said. I wasn't being fair. It's not like you chose... to be alone."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not! I was out of line and..."
"But you're right. At your age I already had a family to go home to after work, something more, something to ground me. And I did not choose to be alone now."
He pauses, staring into the distance.
"My grandmother had a habit of repeating herself, as old people do - don't say it, James - and one of the sayings she loved was 'Man proposes, God disposes.'"
"Homo proponit sed Deus disponit," James quotes, solemnly.
Lewis' glare could be translated as 'show off' or even 'get out'. To James it says, 'you're forgiven'.
He smiles for what feels like the first time since the beginning of the case and rests his head against the back of the sofa. In no time at all he is asleep.
- - -
The half an hour of sleep he got on Lewis' sofa before the older man woke him up is the best he's had in days.
Lewis drives him home, helps him remove the sling and hovers while he changes his clothes.
"I'll manage," he says, when his fingers slip clumsily on the buttons and Lewis moves closer to help. He doesn't think he could handle his help now, can't bear to have him so close, not when he's this vulnerable.
He knows which hurts worst, now. Not Scarlett, not even the job - which he has miraculously kept, again, thanks to Lewis... No. It's the fear of disappointing this man. Of losing his friendship, his presence, his... affection.
"I'll be fine," he says, for what feels like the dozenth time but yet he is glad to have Lewis there. Not out of duty but caring.
- - -
Days turn to weeks and his arm heals. He has a new scar, an endless reminder of how he almost lost everything again.
But the memory is not all bad. Lewis said “not now,” he didn't say “not ever.”
He looks at his boss and sees his future, and this time it doesn't frighten him.
Hurt/Comfort Sequence - Parts 5 & 6