Too Late [1/6] (Colby/OFC-Callie, Don, G)
Title: Too Late, Part I of VI
Characters/Pairings: Don, Colby/OFC-Callie
Rating: G
Word Count: 647
Summary: She was reminded every day of what happened...of what she lost.
Spoilers: 3.24 - The Janus List and 4.01 - Trust Metric
Notes/Warnings: This is 1/6 for the alternate ending to Broken. I wrote this alternate ending after the Numb3rs Season 4 premiere. The Fixed Series was written for my own personal therapy before we knew what happened. This Too Late series came about when I was listening to "It's Too Late" by One Republic almost non-stop while Callie was feeling guilty and needed to make amends. I've taken the canon story from the mentioned spoiler episode(s) and I've woven Callie into the mix. I'd ask for forgiveness, but Callie made me do it...blame her. :)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
She lay awake, staring at the ceiling…diverting her attention only long enough to cast another glance at the alarm clock on the night stand beside the bed. In just three minutes, the alarm would sound and fill the room with its screeching… disrupting the calming sounds of the ocean that filtered in from outside.
But she would welcome it. That was how she started her days now: staring sleeplessly up at the ceiling… remembering a time when a beautiful and wonderful man hovered over her there - distracting her from her current view. She remembered the way he would reach over and shut off the alarm before it rang while his other strong and delicious arm braced his weight just above her… teasing her, all while he smiled adoringly down at her.
She closed her eyes and tried to shake the image from her mind, even as one arm curled back into the empty space of the bed where he used to lay. Anxious fingertips curled about and clenched at his pillow - wishing that things were different. Lies. All lies, she heard herself saying for what had to be the hundredth time just that morning.
And then, immediately after… there was doubt. His touch, his kiss, the way he looked at her… holding her with his gaze as though she were the only woman on earth… the way he smiled and laughed with her… the moments they shared together… it couldn’t have all been lies. It just couldn’t have.
Again, she shook her head as though it would remove the thoughts from her mind before she turned and cast a glance across to the other night stand by the bed. There was a letter there. A letter left unopened… from him. It arrived a week ago today. How he had managed it, she wasn’t sure. She knew, despite her best efforts of trying to forget and to ignore that he even existed, that he was in solitary confinement. He had to have a visitor… would have had to charm one of the guards to even let him have a visitor. And he would have had to sneak the letter out. And yet, he risked it… he had succeeded.
What was even more of a mystery to her was that she knew the letter contained the engagement ring she’d returned to him. She felt its weight, and recognized the familiar shape of it through the envelope. The indentation had been made well before it was mailed. The letter had been carried by someone for several days, maybe even longer, in someone’s pocket - maybe even his, before it was delivered.
She was an FBI agent. She should have reported it. She should have let someone know that she heard from a convicted spy… a traitor to his government, his country, his friends, his lover. And yet… she couldn’t open it. She could do nothing more than leave it sitting on the night stand that had been his… her name written in his handwriting across the front. It reminded her every day of what happened… of what she lost.
She couldn’t open it, she thought again even as she turned away and stared blindly at the clock about to announce the time with its “Psycho”-esque tone. But before she could watch the number turn over and welcome the violent sound, the calm was disrupted by another sound all together… one that was almost as disturbing to her these days. Her phone was ringing. It would be work calling.
“Walker,” she answered, her tone matching her mood as she reached over and turned off the alarm clock before it could sound.
There was no greeting. There was no introduction. There was only Don and he spoke only five words. “Colby and Carter just escaped.”
She was out of bed and slipping on her jeans before she’d even hung up the phone…
<< Broken Too Late, Part 2>>
Characters/Pairings: Don, Colby/OFC-Callie
Rating: G
Word Count: 647
Summary: She was reminded every day of what happened...of what she lost.
Spoilers: 3.24 - The Janus List and 4.01 - Trust Metric
Notes/Warnings: This is 1/6 for the alternate ending to Broken. I wrote this alternate ending after the Numb3rs Season 4 premiere. The Fixed Series was written for my own personal therapy before we knew what happened. This Too Late series came about when I was listening to "It's Too Late" by One Republic almost non-stop while Callie was feeling guilty and needed to make amends. I've taken the canon story from the mentioned spoiler episode(s) and I've woven Callie into the mix. I'd ask for forgiveness, but Callie made me do it...blame her. :)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
She lay awake, staring at the ceiling…diverting her attention only long enough to cast another glance at the alarm clock on the night stand beside the bed. In just three minutes, the alarm would sound and fill the room with its screeching… disrupting the calming sounds of the ocean that filtered in from outside.
But she would welcome it. That was how she started her days now: staring sleeplessly up at the ceiling… remembering a time when a beautiful and wonderful man hovered over her there - distracting her from her current view. She remembered the way he would reach over and shut off the alarm before it rang while his other strong and delicious arm braced his weight just above her… teasing her, all while he smiled adoringly down at her.
She closed her eyes and tried to shake the image from her mind, even as one arm curled back into the empty space of the bed where he used to lay. Anxious fingertips curled about and clenched at his pillow - wishing that things were different. Lies. All lies, she heard herself saying for what had to be the hundredth time just that morning.
And then, immediately after… there was doubt. His touch, his kiss, the way he looked at her… holding her with his gaze as though she were the only woman on earth… the way he smiled and laughed with her… the moments they shared together… it couldn’t have all been lies. It just couldn’t have.
Again, she shook her head as though it would remove the thoughts from her mind before she turned and cast a glance across to the other night stand by the bed. There was a letter there. A letter left unopened… from him. It arrived a week ago today. How he had managed it, she wasn’t sure. She knew, despite her best efforts of trying to forget and to ignore that he even existed, that he was in solitary confinement. He had to have a visitor… would have had to charm one of the guards to even let him have a visitor. And he would have had to sneak the letter out. And yet, he risked it… he had succeeded.
What was even more of a mystery to her was that she knew the letter contained the engagement ring she’d returned to him. She felt its weight, and recognized the familiar shape of it through the envelope. The indentation had been made well before it was mailed. The letter had been carried by someone for several days, maybe even longer, in someone’s pocket - maybe even his, before it was delivered.
She was an FBI agent. She should have reported it. She should have let someone know that she heard from a convicted spy… a traitor to his government, his country, his friends, his lover. And yet… she couldn’t open it. She could do nothing more than leave it sitting on the night stand that had been his… her name written in his handwriting across the front. It reminded her every day of what happened… of what she lost.
She couldn’t open it, she thought again even as she turned away and stared blindly at the clock about to announce the time with its “Psycho”-esque tone. But before she could watch the number turn over and welcome the violent sound, the calm was disrupted by another sound all together… one that was almost as disturbing to her these days. Her phone was ringing. It would be work calling.
“Walker,” she answered, her tone matching her mood as she reached over and turned off the alarm clock before it could sound.
There was no greeting. There was no introduction. There was only Don and he spoke only five words. “Colby and Carter just escaped.”
She was out of bed and slipping on her jeans before she’d even hung up the phone…
<< Broken Too Late, Part 2>>