(no subject)
Dry Eyes
He'd loved getting his hands in her hair from the first time they kissed. It was always softer than his, fine and sleek like silk. He'd only ever stroked it before, but ever since Gracie passed, Danny had taken to braiding AJ's hair--as he'd done with their daughter--every time his wife came out of the shower. Always a peaceful, quiet time, neither one usually spoke as he sat behind her on the bed, his own back resting against the headboard. The part that took the longest was always untangling her wet strands.
Danny didn't mind though, as it gave him an excuse to be close to his wife without feeling bile rise in his stomach. It wasn't AJ that repulsed him, but the thought of doing anything remotely intimate; remotely like making another child. Kissing and hugging was fine, but add sex to the mix and Danny clammed up tighter than Fort Knox. Doing something that could potentially make another child not only scared the shit out of him, but made him feel like the biggest piece of scum on earth. How dare he try to replace Grace? How dare he enjoy any part of life when she could no longer enjoy anything of hers?
These were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he smoothed the purple wide-toothed comb through AJ's hair, his eyes focused on the task at hand but still far way. The ache in his heart hadn't lessened, but Danny was beginning to understand how to live with it.He avoided things that could hurt it more, and encouraged those actions which hurt him less. For work, it meant not being anywhere near a case that involved kids. For home, it meant staying out of Gracie's old room and keeping away from any interest in sex AJ showed. The same went for simple pleasures, like laughter. Though he could now smile at people who made jokes, or said something amusing, Danny had yet to go past a small, polite smile and a nod of understanding. All in all, it was as if someone had taken him, copied him too many times and left only a faded, black and white version of his former self. A version that was gentler, more thoughtful, and much, much quieter than its predecessor. Still, as he combed out AJ's hair, Danny somehow kept the light of their marriage alive by doing the one thing most husbands neglected to do; listen.
"How was your day?" he asked softly as he began combing through her wet hair, Danny checking her posture to make sure the whole process didn't hurt her back any.
He'd loved getting his hands in her hair from the first time they kissed. It was always softer than his, fine and sleek like silk. He'd only ever stroked it before, but ever since Gracie passed, Danny had taken to braiding AJ's hair--as he'd done with their daughter--every time his wife came out of the shower. Always a peaceful, quiet time, neither one usually spoke as he sat behind her on the bed, his own back resting against the headboard. The part that took the longest was always untangling her wet strands.
Danny didn't mind though, as it gave him an excuse to be close to his wife without feeling bile rise in his stomach. It wasn't AJ that repulsed him, but the thought of doing anything remotely intimate; remotely like making another child. Kissing and hugging was fine, but add sex to the mix and Danny clammed up tighter than Fort Knox. Doing something that could potentially make another child not only scared the shit out of him, but made him feel like the biggest piece of scum on earth. How dare he try to replace Grace? How dare he enjoy any part of life when she could no longer enjoy anything of hers?
These were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he smoothed the purple wide-toothed comb through AJ's hair, his eyes focused on the task at hand but still far way. The ache in his heart hadn't lessened, but Danny was beginning to understand how to live with it.He avoided things that could hurt it more, and encouraged those actions which hurt him less. For work, it meant not being anywhere near a case that involved kids. For home, it meant staying out of Gracie's old room and keeping away from any interest in sex AJ showed. The same went for simple pleasures, like laughter. Though he could now smile at people who made jokes, or said something amusing, Danny had yet to go past a small, polite smile and a nod of understanding. All in all, it was as if someone had taken him, copied him too many times and left only a faded, black and white version of his former self. A version that was gentler, more thoughtful, and much, much quieter than its predecessor. Still, as he combed out AJ's hair, Danny somehow kept the light of their marriage alive by doing the one thing most husbands neglected to do; listen.
"How was your day?" he asked softly as he began combing through her wet hair, Danny checking her posture to make sure the whole process didn't hurt her back any.