sixwordstories | (no subject)

Charlie just looks a little closed off. He's definitely not in the moment.

Reese winced and shifted. Not really something she wanted to see in the morning paper, either. Riots. She hated riots.

He hated them more than she did.

Her fingers brushed his arm.

"February 23rd, 2000. It was a short riot, only thirty minutes, but I still got sixteen stitches and a broken nose."

His voice was distant, just like his gaze. He still wasn't there.

"The guards killed one guy and fifteen others were injured. I was one of the nineteen that got beat and stabbed. Two gangs started it and it just exploded."

Reese listened, then half curled into him. Crews getting beaten and stabbed made her insides freeze. Sixteen stitches, broken nose. Gangs. Always gangs. Prison was a world unto itself, violent, hostile, fucked up with guards and prisoner alike. It was a world she didn't know and never would, save through Charlie.

"Charlie," she whispered, her voice tired as she shoved herself up further to touch his chin with her cool fingertips. "It's not now." You're not there. You're here. With me. Here.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Anything about prison, reading it, see it, reminded him. Some things a little stronger than others. Riots were bad. The riot had terrified him just when he was used to prison.

"I'm here." He opened his eyes again. "I'm here."

She recognized it. Like the way she reacted when drugs were mentioned (her prison), how it still shook her, Charlie's was worse. Comparable, but worse, and she wanted to do was make it better. She pulled her fingers away and tried to give him space.

Just space to breathe again.

If he wanted her, he could have her in close, but she'd give him space.

"You are," she murmured.

He didn't want space from her. He wanted space from his memories, from his past. He reached out for her and curled himself around her. He didn't want to remember, but he did.

She could help him remember where he was now.

Reese let her fingertips ghost over his arms before letting them settle, letting him hold her. Prison was done, physically, she knew that, but he carried it around with him in the scars and memories and darkness. She understood that far more than most people, just like she understood how important it was to be touched and loved.

She murmured softly, turning her cheek against his shoulder as she eased herself against him and closed her eyes. They were, the both of them, here. Nowhere else but here.

Breathing her in, Charlie felt himself beginning to settle. It was easier for him to remember where he was when she was close. He didn't feel the past closing in so quickly now that she had his attention again.

Reese sank into him, murmuring wordlessly. He'd come back all the way, he would, and she, as always, would be patient. Charlie had taught her that, how to wait without going crazy doing it. Now? Now, it was effortless, and she could see exactly where needed to be. Her fingers against his arms were gentle as she brushed them back and forth.

He didn't need the reminder of prison and she wouldn't let him stay there.

It took some doing and a few deep breathing exercises but he brought himself back. All the way back and away from the wall of Pelican Bay that still existed in his mind.

"Thank you," he said quietly and kissed her forehead.

"Welcome," Reese said, her voice barely audible. You couldn't fix it. It wasn't fixable. She wished to could do something more, but she couldn't there was just this, that's all. No more, no less. It didn't get better, it just got more...tolerable.

The best she could give him was in the way her palm settled against his arm.

He kissed her forehead again, lingering this time to let her know it was okay. She did a lot to make it easier to handle. She did a lot for him in general.

"Love you, Reese. Always." He reminded her.