The Night Shift.

[yippiekiyaymf]

John came home from his late night patrol and put away his gun and walked into the bedroom. Then he paused, frowning. The bedside lamp was still on, and Juliet was curled up eyes closed. John got closer. Her eyelashes were wet, and there were pictures scattered on the bed. Wedding pictures

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[island_juliet]

Juliet really couldn't explain it, she'd been fine that day, and then out of nowhere missing James slammed into her so hard it was like being hit in the chest with a hammer. She'd had a momentary panic attack, forgetting the way he smelled, and she pulled out the only thing the village had left of him - one of his undershirts. Closing her eyes tightly, she clutched it to her chest, smelled it, then pulled off her clothes and tugged it over her head. It was almost like being wrapped up in him.

Pulling out the small handful of pictures she had, she'd sat in the middle of the bed, touching his face in the pictures, tracing his dimples as she cried, letting go the way that she did when no one else was around. She had no idea that she'd cried herself to sleep just before John arrived home. When she felt the bed dip, she woke up with a soft gasp, startled.

[yippiekiyaymf]

"Hey, Angel," John said softly, stroking her face, compassion on his face.

"Rough night?"

[island_juliet]

Juliet looked down at the pictures he'd piled neatly, guilt washing over her features as she nodded.

"Yeah," she managed, her voice thick from crying. "I just...I couldn't remember what he smelled like."

[yippiekiyaymf]

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart." He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and rubbed her back.