Entering the apartment as quietly as possible, Charlie noticed that all the lights were off, suggesting everyone had gone to bed. Closing the door softly behind her, she wondered just how long she'd been up on the roof.
She had gotten lost in her thoughts, expressing her feelings through song, and it felt so natural and familiar that the crystals in her pocket reacted with gentle pulsing. She could feel her long-lost memories hovering just below her conscious mind, teasing her, but they continued to resist her efforts to bring them to the surface.
Frustrated by it all, she began a song about reclaiming her memories, only for her first words to come out in a loud, unladylike yawn. She'd shaken it off, tried again, and just like that one night in the hotel months ago, gave up and admitted she needed sleep. Stubbornness only gets one so far, anyway.
A hint of a smile flickered on her lips at the thought. Dropping her key into the glass dish by the door, she headed toward the bedroom. Now that she felt better, she could snuggle with Kevin and discuss things tomorrow. But she stopped when she heard a soft cough behind her, coming from the dark kitchen. Turning around, she saw his silhouette sitting at the table, illuminated only by the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the window.
"I thought you'd be asleep by now," she whispered.
His voice carried through the shadows of the room. "I didn't want to intrude while you were on the roof, but I couldn't sleep with us angry at each other."
"I'm not angry anymore, I promise. Just very tired." Sensing the tension in the air, she stepped toward the hallway. "Can we talk in the morning?"
She couldn't see his expression clearly, but his gaze fell. He nodded softly, resigned. "Okay."
Tossing back the bit of Scotch left in the glass, he set it down with a louder thump than intended. Shrugging, he huffed, "Sorry. I'm a little drunk."
Charlie heard the pain in his voice and realized she couldn't leave him like that. Shuffling softly over to the kitchen table, she sat down beside him. She could see that his eyes were bloodshot from the alcohol, and it added another needle to her already pin-cushioned heart. Noticing Cassie's empty glass, she picked it up and reached for the bottle.
He put his hand on her forearm. "It's strong stuff."
"I hope so," she spoke softly, placing her other hand over his. "We've both suffered tonight."
Releasing her arm, he sat back and watched as she poured enough Scotch into her glass that it nearly spilled over the edge. He chuckled softly.
"What?" She raised her eyebrows and shot him a challenging look.
He shook his head, reclaimed the bottle, and poured two fingers into his glass. "If you wish to catch up with me, that'll do it."
Keeping her gaze on him, she lifted the tumbler. With a wink, she took a long pull of the amber liquid, letting a full four ounces of high-proof Scotch slide down her throat. His expression of surprise pleased her as she placed the empty glass down, closed her eyes, and hummed contentedly.
Honest awe coated his voice. "How?"
"Must be the demon in me. The burning heat is soothing." She shrugged with a flicker of a smile. Her cheeks flushed with warmth as she looked at the empty glass. "I think we have spirits in Hell, and I'm sure I've had my share."
"Spirits in Hell," he repeated, his lips curling upward.
She snickered. "I made a pun, didn't I?"
"You did." Kevin agreed and poured himself another shot, then held the bottle out. She pushed her glass forward to accept, and he refilled it.
Looking at her glass thoughtfully, she lifted her eyes to meet his, her curiosity piqued. "We've never had a drink together. Even with all the times you took me out or brought fast food back to the hotels. Why not?"
"I don't drink."
The tone of his voice struck her deeply—it was not accusatory, yet she felt responsible for driving him to this. It scraped at her soul. "Angel?"
He swallowed hard, an ache caught at the back of his throat. "I don't feel like an angel right now." He paused, his eyes haunted. "I almost lost you tonight, Charlie. I saw him raise his gun at you. His aim was true. If I'd been seconds later, I would have watched you die." Taking a deep breath, he explained with a sorrowful tone, "I blew up at you tonight, not because of the mission, but because all I could see in my head was you dead."
Charlie sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I was scared, too, Kevin. But not of dying. I was scared for the children. I needed to save them!" She shivered. "I have all these powers and can do so much, but you're right; what good is it if I lose control? I snapped in the car because I couldn't handle your anger, but that doesn't excuse the fact that I disobeyed you. Had I followed your orders and stuck to the mission, you wouldn't have been put at risk or forced to kill!"
"Charlie—" he started.
"Please, let me finish." She pleaded.
He gave a single nod and extended his hand.
She grasped it tightly and continued, "You accepted me as your partner; put your faith in me, and I fucked up again just like that first night with the girls! I'm scared that I'm not good enough for this. Or for you. I've tried so hard to be a worthy partner, Kevin, but… am I? I don't know! I'm sorry—so, so sorry." The last words faded as she sobbed softly.
Shaking his head, he spoke with a firm voice. "Charlie, you are undoubtedly one of the best partners I have ever had the pleasure of teaming with, and I was part of a hell of a group in the service." He squeezed her hand, continuing, "And you mean so much more to me than just being my partner. You know that, right?"
Wiping her nose with the back of her free arm, she nodded. "Of course, I do. I didn't mean what I said in the car."
"Neither did I, but I gotta know: even though you told me otherwise before, am I pushing you too hard? Expecting too much?"
"No!" Her answer was quick and firm. "You are not!" Emphasizing her point, she expressed it clearly: "I need to listen better, have faith that everything you do and plan will work out, and I need to stop being so scared." Shaking her head once, she swallowed and looked directly into his eyes. "I promise you, here and now, that I will do my best to try to follow every order you give me when we're in the field. You've got the experience; you know what's best, and I need to trust in that. I mean, I do, I just—"
He broke in, needing to assure her, too. "I know what you mean. And that's all I have ever asked of you, Charlie."
"I know." She gazed longingly at their joined hands. "But is it enough?"
"Yes! Your devotion to the children and saving lives is as much, if not more, than my own. You have given me hope in times when I thought it was lost. I need you by my side more than ever. I only need you to trust me and to follow my lead, so I can keep you safe, too. Okay?"
"I'll do the best I can, I promise." She felt the tension in her chest ease like a weight being lifted.
"And so will I." Kevin raised his glass to her, and she returned the gesture. They toasted with a gentle clink of their tumblers, the sound soft in the quiet apartment.
Downing her drink again, Charlie felt the alcohol hit harder this time. Setting the empty glass off to the side, she laid her hands flat on the table and rested her chin on her knuckles. "I'm glad we talked," she whispered, closing her eyes.
"Me, too."
Grateful that they seemed to have cleared the air between them, Kevin took a small sip. Even the little he downed burned his throat enough that he coughed once, quietly. Witnessing her downing full glasses made him feel like a novice drinker all over again.
Holding the glass away from his face, he swirled the remaining Scotch and contemplated taking Cassie's advice. She's right, I can't worry about what might happen in the future. Charlie's here, right now, and I need to tell her how I feel.
Preparing himself, he slammed back the last ounce, closed his eyes, and savored the flavor. Then he swallowed and sighed contentedly. When the last bit of air left his lungs, he smacked his lips and asked, "Charlie?"
A soft, nearly silent snore answered him. Opening his eyes, he saw her head resting on the table, fast asleep, gentle breaths escaping her half-parted lips. Her cheeks, naturally pink against her alabaster complexion, were flushed ruby red from the alcohol.
I suppose it can wait. Smiling tenderly, he stood up, moved around the table, and gently lifted her into his arms.
As he walked down the hallway, Kevin felt her snuggle her head against his shoulder, rub her cheek against his shirt, and whisper in her dreams, "I love you, Angel."
Breath catching, he bent his head down, brushed his lips against her forehead, and whispered back, "I love you, too, Charlie."
Using his shoulder to push the bedroom door open, Kevin stepped inside and gently laid her on their shared bed. Carefully, he pulled a spare quilt over her for warmth, ensuring her shoulders were covered, and kissed her forehead one more time.
Then, as silently as he could, he exited the room and carefully closed the door behind him. Though they'd resolved their conflict, spending one more night on the couch so she could sleep off her first drunken stupor seemed the wisest course of action.
After all, he could easily confess his feelings to her tomorrow.