(no subject)
She couldn't sleep. Not after running into that woman downtown. They didn't really speak - it was more the look on her face that bothered her. Like she'd seen something that people only see in their nightmares. The look most people she'd interviewed had, at the crime scenes for the Sy--
For the case she wasn't on anymore. The one she'd had her badge suspended from. And thinking about that just got her angry all over again. Parkman, she'd thought, I doubt you can hear me all the way over in New York, but if you can, you can go to hell. She hadn't meant it, but it had been more to keep from crying than anything else. Even alone, she realized, she didn't want anyone to see her cry. Not even herself.
She curled up in the blankets, grabbed a pillow and pulled it close to try and keep the black hole in her stomach from eating her alive. And finally, somehow, she slept. And as she did, he walked in, put a hand to her shoulder, haltingly, and leaned over to frown at her, worriedly.
"... I'm sorry, Audrey. ... M'so sorry. ... It'll be okay, alright? I promise. Just ... rest up, okay?"
She barely heard him, but after that, she sank deeper into sleep, the black hole slowly fading. The next thing she knew, her alarm was going off, and the sun was sneaking in through the blinds.
"Parkman?" She sat up, smoothing a hand over her hair as she looked around. Of course, the room was empty - why wouldn't it be? - silent, save for the thrum of the air conditioner. But somehow, despite the hundreds of miles and the impossibility of her boring, human world, she felt oddly at ease with the realization that came over her.
She knew, somehow, that he'd been there.