Operation: Loose Ends

Show me the most damaged parts of your Soul

"Show me the most damaged parts of your Soul,

And I will show you how it still shines like Gold."

- Nikita Gill

*-*-*-*-*-*

For once, it wasn't a dream....for once, I knew that I'd wake up to that warm gaze I knew and loved ... I'd wake up to his caresses, his gentle smile painting his lips, the caressing of his lips against mine, of overwhelming warmth coiling within my abdomen.

Ohh, how wrong I was...

I should've expected it though. I should've expected waking up to pained grunts and exhales, to the searing pain of his overwhelmingly-tight grip on my hand. I should've expected waking up to the sight of his sweaty form trying to stand up from the bed, his whole body shaking as he tried to catch his breath.

And even knowing all this....I still didn't expect it. I was suddenly snapped back to the real world upon feeling that tight grip on my hand. I was going to complain, but the noise drowned away within the confines of my mouth upon seeing what I saw before me. My poor Simon ...shaking like a leaf, sweating, clutching his abdomen painfully as he tried to regain his composure, but failing miserably. I couldn't help but frown at the sight as I lighted a hand to gently cup his cheek.

"....Simon...?" I softly called out, but upon contact with his skin, I couldn't ignore how he flinched at my touch. He seemed to be in a trance, at least...until he heard my voice. Then those eyes gazed into my own ...

Rare were the days that I ever saw fear in my husband's eyes.

I sat up fully on the bed as I kept my contact upon his cheek gently, tenderly, lightly caressing his skin with my thumb as I looked at him with a gentle gaze. ".... you okay, love...?"

".... sorry for wakin' you up..." he muttered out softly as he finally lessened his grip on my hand. Lessened, but he never let go. "....you were sleepin' so peacefully...."

"Nonsense." I shook my head, and smiling, I opened my arms out to him. "C'mon over...just like old times." He seemed to hesitate. At first at least. But then, after a while, he eventually managed to settle down into my arms, resting his good cheek against my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around him as well as I could with all his injuries. I felt his eyelashes flutter closed against my skin as I brought my hand up to caress his dampened locks.

We did this often, back home. It was my method of calming him down after a violent nightmare such as this one. He had so many back then...of his dead family, of his time in torture, hanging from that wretched, haunting hook for what felt like an eternity...most times, we wouldn't say anything. Not that there was much to say, at least, knowing what I knew...so, we'd just sit there, with him in my arms and legs a tangled mess, as I held him as close as I possibly could.

I lightly kissed his sweaty forehead in comfort as I felt his breathing against my neck. After a while of comfortable silence, I finally asked. "...do you want to talk about it...?"

I couldn't ignore how his good hand gripped my clothes a bit tighter at that. He didn't reply. Not that I was expecting him to. But I did feel his head moving against my shoulder. Such a small, slight nod. A nod nevertheless. So, I managed to squeeze into my jacket's pocket and pulled out his picture. I just ... couldn't ignore his reaction. How his eyes widened, how his jaw slackened, at the sight of that slightly burned picture. "....h-how...?" he managed out softly.

"I found it in your pocket at the LZ..." I said softly as I felt injured, trembling fingers grab the paper. He couldn't stop staring at it. "I had to return it to you..." I gently told him as I wrapped my arms around him once more.