Please review, pretty please? I get inspired by your reviews. It's really what feeds my imagination. :) ugh I miss Henry. (if I finish some of the fics I wrote when Henry was still alive, would you guys read it?)
Anyways, enjoy this chapter.
Teddy laid in bed, million thoughts flowing in her head.
The way Henry smelled.
The way Henry laughed.
The way Henry smiled, how his eyes glowed.
The way Henry lightly snored when he's exhausted.
The way Henry holds her.
The way Henry hooks his arm around her neck and pulls her closer to him just so he can whisper "I love you"
The way he says "I love you."
The sincerity in his eyes.
She was starting to realize that she'd never get to see or feel any of that. She suddenly couldn't move. The tears blurred her vision, but she can't find the energy to wipe them.
She sat in bed, back against the headboard, her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging it tightly, tears were falling from her eyes.
She heard their front door open, but she didn't make any effort to move.
"Teddy?" she heard Henry call out.
She couldn't find her voice to answer.
Their bedroom door opened and Henry emerged to their room, still sweaty from the gym.
"Hey?" he asked, concerned, and ran towards her. He cupped her face with his hands, wiped her tears, and kissed her forehead "Honey, what's wrong?"
Teddy shook her head. She can't talk about it. It's been ten years.
The smoke from the towers.
The smell of smoke and carnage.
That eerie silence that enveloped the city after the towers have collapsed.
The hours she frantically called her best friend to make sure she's okay.
The moment she realized that the one constant in her life, her childhood best friend, is gone.
She heaved and choked a sob. Henry climbed on their bed and held her close to him and tucked her head under his chin. She sobbed on his chest and clung onto his shirt.
Her husband, without needing to say a word or knowing what was going on, was the greatest comfort she could get. He understood that she couldn't talk. He knows there's something wrong. He just held her, and that was good enough for her.
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and held her tightly until the tears and the sobs subsided. She pulled away from him like nothing happened and walked to their bathroom and got ready for work.
She previously warned him that these things could and will happen. She warned him that he'd never understand. He simply nodded and said, "I'll be there. Don't worry."
Now, he's not here to hold her when she's having a breakdown. There's no one to hold her. No one is there to wipe the tears.
She simply closed her eyes and thought about the happy memories they had. She could picture his smile. Damn that smile, she chuckled.
Teddy leaned by the kitchen counter in her tip toes, trying to reach a glass on the cupboard. She could feel her husband's eyes on her. She sighed in frustration and turned around to face her husband, who was sitting by the table in the kitchen, coffee in one hand and newspaper in the other.
"Well, are going to help me? Not everyone is as tall as you."
He smiled. Damn that smile. She thought.
"Henry!" she whined and threw a dishrag at him.
He chuckled. "There's a reason why I like to put the glasses up there. I like the view when you try to reach for it"
Henry got up and walked towards her, grinning. "I can help, but you'll have to pay" he said and pinned her against the counter.
She smiled and snaked her arms around his waist. "What kind of payment do you accept?"
"Well, being a pervert and everything..." he said, stressing the word pervert, with a huge smile on his face, wriggling his eyebrows.
Teddy laughed. His smile kills her. His smile turns her legs into jello.
She doesn't know what she did to deserve him.
He leaned down and trailed kisses on her neck.
Oh god, those lips. Those kisses. She missed them.
The sex. It wasn't just fucking. Sex with Mark was undeniably good, but that was just sex. Sex with Henry was passionate. The way he stares deep into her eyes. The way their bodies are entwined and in sync. Sex with Henry wasn't just sex, it was making love, which made it better than any other kind of sex she's had with any other man.
The way he takes care of her.
The way he pleases her.
She'll never have that again.
Over the past three days, she busied herself so she won't have time to think of Henry. It's too painful to think about losing someone that means too much to her.
Death isn't a stranger to her. She lost a lot of people who matter to her over time: Her best friend, her parents, her friends in the military. Henry's death is different.
She barely spent time with Henry. She still can't completely wrap her mind around the fact that he's really gone. He'll walk into those doors again and hold me while I cry. She's not ready to let that feeling of real love and real happiness go, that feeling of being loved and being taken care of.
She blinked the few tears away and nuzzled her face into Henry's pillow.
Then comes the anger. She was mad at herself for not being able to do more. She wished she could fix everything.
She wished she got home sooner.
She wished that they didn't have a fight, so he didn't have to leave.
She wished that he coughed up blood right then and there, so he would be surrounded by doctors.
She wished that he showed symptoms earlier.
She wished he wasn't sick at all.
Fucking Pulmonary Artery.
The more she thought about it, the aggravated she got at everything.
She was mad at herself for convincing herself that he was going to be fine.
She flipped her shit when it was just a simple device insertion procedure, but she was so convinced that he was going to be fine after a bronchial laser resection. She was aware of how big the tumor was.
She was mad that she had to be pulled away to clean up someone else's mess.
She was mad at Owen for lying.
She was mad that the one person who truly cares and loves her is gone.
But she can't go back in time. The only thing she can do now is to move forward.
Time pass, seasons will change, she can't do anything about it.
She can't stop being mad at herself, because she couldn't control the situation.
She just want the pain to end.
She doesn't know if she fell asleep, but the next thing she knew, the sun is slowly rising. She really doesn't know what to do with herself anymore. She got up, took a shower, and got ready for work. She tried to look as presentable as she could. She tried to hide her puffy eyes and her red nose. She'll be fine.
She wasn't sure if they were expecting her back anytime soon, but she can't just sit at home and wallow. She walked into the hospital and other staff just watched her. Some of them whispered, so she just kept her head down. She raced as fast as she can to her office so she could change. She went into the cold, dark room and flipped the light switch. She sat on her chair and took a deep breath. She saw a picture of her and Henry in the corner of her eye. She flipped it face down and muttered "Sorry, babe." She took another deep breath to compose herself. She's ready.
She changed into her scrubs, put on her coat. She's ready to face reality.
She knows that the first thing she needs to do is talk to Owen—professionally, at least. He was her boss after all.
She rounded the corner and saw the man she was looking for staring the OR board.
"Hunt" she said firmly, not showing any emotions, as she walked towards him. He turned around, a surprised (or confused) look on his face.
"What are you doing here?" he asked
"I work here." She answered. She was straight to the point. Why did she need to explain herself?
"I wasn't expecting you back so soon"
"Well..." she said, her arms out "I'm back"
"How are you?" he asked, and she could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"Listen" she put her hand up, obviously not in the mood for chitchat. "I understand that Goldman is scheduled to my surgeries today. I'll be around finishing my paperwork. I just came to find you to let you know that I'm here. If you need anything, a consult, a trauma, I'm around. I didn't find you to have small talk or catch up on what I've been doing these past few days. I came looking for you to tell you that I'm here." With that she turned around and made her way to the coffee cart.
This is going to be a tough day.