Gone Again

She's gone again. He knows as soon as he steps into the small apartment they share; he knows she's gone. It's not because he didn't see her car. (He hadn't.)

He's used to her disappearing by now. It's been a year since Africa and half that since the hospital.

She disappears often. Monthly, if not weekly. She'd leave for a few days, never more than three at most. Not yet.

Fear overwhelms him each day she is absent, a silent voice screaming that she'll never be back. That he can never hold her again, never be near her. But she always comes back.

At least... So far she has.

He sits on the couch and holds his head in his hands. He hates the quiet now. He feels desperate to keep her close, but she's been so distant. He tries to give her space, but let her know he's there. He's always been there, no matter what. He'd give his life for her, but she's already given hers for him. That's something he can't stand. For him, she became something horrible. By diving off that cliff, she gave everything that she was in order to keep him alive.

He only wants to do the same.

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Late that night, she finds him curled up on her side of the bed. She always finds him there. When she sits on the edge of the bed, he opens his eyes. He's surprised to see her. Then again, she's usually gone longer.

He sees the marks. Bruises. She pinches herself as hard as she can to keep from breaking down or thinking of the time she was a slave, at times drawing blood with her fingernails. He tries to keep her happy, keep her from her thoughts. He does his best. He doesn't know it, but she's thankful.

Without warning, he pulls her down against him. He rarely lets himself do this, but Jill wishes it would happen more. He pulls her arm towards his mouth and kisses each bruise, no matter how miniscule. She lets the action happen. They're never gone so far to kiss. They seem to never make it past hugging or sleeping beside each other. His lips are soft on her skin and she eventually pulls his mouth up to hers. He opens to her and they linger there, not really sure how far they want to take this.

He whispers "I love you", just like he does everynight and she smiles. She's aware of how much he means it.

For the first times, she replies the same. Past nights, she would simply pray he knew the words she couldn't form and knew she meant them as much as he does.

He knows the issues she has and the nightmares she suffers everynight. He knows that all he wants is to keep her happy, even if that means giving up everything he has, everything he might get.

Because he'll stand through hell for her.

Because he'll always be there for her.

Even though that she's gone again the next time he opens his eyes.