Work Text:
The rest is simple, about as simple as friends kissing each other against the front door can be. I had been screwed up and Jim fixed it. Well, he started the repair job anyway - I have a ways yet to go but between the two of us I'm confident we'll get there.
Yeah, I said the two of us. We took that plunge. It's only been a week since two men, one desperate to escape and one holding on for dear life, collided at the front door and huge steps have already been taken. That very night I slept upstairs with Jim for the first time. We didn't really do anything that first night, except talk until we fell asleep cradled in each other’s arms. Reaffirming our connection and changing it at the same time.
For the better, of course.
The next day Jim convinced me that we should take a leave of absence, both of us, so that we could iron things out. I didn't want to, but he convinced me by telling me a bit of things from his perspective when I went all Franken-Blair. He was suggesting therapy, not a bad idea. The more he told me, the more I suspected I'd had a mild psychotic break. But the problem with that was that I'd taken the same courses at school as anyone I would go and see and that would make treating me very hard to do. The best thing for me really was just to be able to talk to someone unvarnished - not have to hold anything back or worry if I was making sense. After that I could talk out both sides of the situation myself and heal.
Jim has some healing of his own to do too. He wasn't unaffected by my little run off the rails as much as he would like to think otherwise. But he’s working it out on his own, just glad for the main part that I am strong enough to deal with what had happened and to allow him to take care of me, watch over me, love me. Not that his loving me is a burden, but man, I challenge anyone to try and be strong in the face of Special Forces levels of mollycoddling. Eessh.
Today though we face a new challenge. Today is our first day going back to work since Jim woke me up. He is standing by the door smiling at me as I walk to meet him. His gaze rakes over me and he says with satisfaction, "Looking good Partner, looking real good."
Looking different, that’s for sure. I have my trademark flannel and earrings in place, one of my many tribal necklaces back around my neck. And a leather bracelet strapped to my wrist, Jim bought it for me. Its black cord with a stainless steel plate engraved with the Chinese symbol for strength and power. A reminder that I am much stronger than I give myself credit for and that my power is in being myself.
I have butterflies the size of pterodactyls in my stomach. I know the changes are going to be obvious to our co-workers at the station - I mean, hello, detectives - but still, I hadn't given any thought to how they must have been just as affected by the changes I had made as Jim had been. I don't know why I never thought of it, they were my friends after all. But for some reason I had dismissed it until today. But Jim assured me they had been worried, maybe even scared for me. Hopefully seeing the 'old' me reemerging will go a long way to reassuring them.
It's reassuring to me, even if it is only the most superficial of the changes I have made in the week I took to delve deep and really look inside myself. Sorting through everything, even with Jim by my side, has been hard. Hell, without him there, I have no idea how I would have ended up.
No that's not right - I know exactly what I would have done and how I would've ended up without him. I would've been him before he met me for the first time and neither of us ever *wanted* to go there. I marched to the beat of a different drum. Jim took up the beat in order to stay with me. It was never supposed to be the other way around and thank the gods Jim knew that and pulled me back.
Now we were again marching to the beat of our own drum... just as it should be.