Title: I'll Be Your Safety

Fandom: Life

Pairing: Charlie Crews/Dani Reese, minor Reese/Tidwell in a couple of chapters

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,614/?

Warnings: violence, occasional bad language, discussion of alcoholism, drug addiction. Title taken from "Kiss Me" by Ed Sheeran (which I obviously don't own).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise from the show. If I did, it would still be going and Dani and Charlie would be married by now, or at least making out on a regular basis.

Synopsis: "If you say 'you don't have to understand here to be here' I swear, I'll shoot you." She says. Her mask of annoyance and irritation is betrayed by the slight upwards quirk of her lips. He wordlessly tugs back the sheets on the other side of the bed with a careful expression on his face. "I can't sleep either."

A/N: I'm so, so sorry about how late this update is - I must confess I've been battling a serious case of writers block over the last few days, but I think I'm over it. I hope I am, at least, it was driving me insane.

"Crews." He answers the phone - her phone - the same way he always does, even though this time it takes him a second to remember how to use his voice.

"Uh, I'm looking for a 'Dani Crews'?" A voice Charlie doesn't recognise tells him, and for a second his voice sticks in his throat.

"Dani Crews?" He parrots back to her in sharp confusion, blinking rapidly, "I'm sorry, who is this?"

"This is Officer Phelps from the California State Prison, I'm calling about an inmate - Peter Jackson." Phelps says, and Charlie lets his head fall back against the whitewashed concrete wall of the hospital waiting room behind him, figuring there's only one way to find out what she's calling about.

"This is her- her husband. Can I take a message?" His throat feels like it's closing up because all of a sudden, all he can think is; now you might never be.

"Our records show that your wife visited Mr. Jackson yesterday afternoon." Phelps says, with that almost robotic sounding guard voice that he hates hates hates.

You were lucky, Crews. The cut isn't that deep.

Only three broken bones this time - that's a pretty big improvement on the last time you were here.

You were only out for four days - you should be back in general population in a week or so - guess you must be getting used to prison life, huh?

"That's right." He replies monotonously, counting the posters on the wall opposite him, each advertising a more disgusting and horrifying medical condition than the last that EVERYONE SHOULD BE CHECKING FOR OTHERWISE YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE BUT NO ONE PANIC OKAY?!

"She said Jackson was a friend of her fathers." The woman phrases it like a question. Like she doesn't believe what she's saying.

"That's right." He repeats. Switches to counting the cracks in the wall.

"And he also called her from a contraband cell phone he had stashed in his cell late last night."

"He did." Charlie agrees. Counts the seventeenth crack twice. Starts over.

"Do you have any idea what they talked about?" She asks, and he silently answers Yes. He blew up her whole life.

"Just catching up, I think." He tells her. There's thirty seven cracks in the plaster on that wall. How interesting. So interesting. Dani could be dying.

"Mr. Crews, is your wife particularly close to Mr. Jackson?" Phelps asks, and there's some kind of edge in her voice that makes Charlie trust her even less.

"No, she isn't." Charlie tells her, abandoning his counting and sitting up straighter. "Why?"

"Peter Jackson was stabbed while on his way to breakfast this morning. He's dead."

It's the same, all-the-bad-news-in-a-rush delivery that, as a homicide detective, he's fairly familiar with. He takes a deep breath then lets it out.

"Who was it?" He asks, already knowing she'll say that they don't know. That it happened in the blind spot of the CCTV system, or that there were just too many people around to get a clear view on what happened, or that they've got no murder weapon and the prisoners are refusing to talk. That's just how it goes on the inside.

"We don't know. It happened on the very edge of the cameras' line of sight and since all the prisoners were heading to the mess hall for breakfast, there's too many people in the corridor to see exactly what happened." She tells him, voice full of fake sympathy, like she thinks they were friends, and he leans back again, resting his head on the wall.

That's just how it goes on the inside.

He can't stop replaying it over in his head. All these gunshots and then the stillest kind of silence as Dani stumbles back and falls to the ground.

Each time he sees it in his head he tries to stop it, tries to force himself to think about something else but it's like the whole thing is stuck on permanent replay, tattooed inside his eyelids. She'd hit the tarmac and looked up at him with wide eyes as the shocking red stain spread outwards across her chest, and he'd found himself dropping to his knees at her side, white hot terror burning through his body as it occurs to him just how niave they really were about all this.

"Dani- No, no, no, look at me, Dani, don't go to sleep." He instructs, pressing down a little harder on the profusely bleeding wound in her chest.

"M'sorry, Charlie." She mumbles, her eyes half closed, her right hand settling over his, "s'too late."

"No it isn't," He insists as he tucks his free hand round the back of her neck and holds her head up, "You're going to be fine."

"Charlie-" She murmurs his name as her eyes slide shut again and he shakes her just a little. He wants desperately to reach for his blanket of Zen, but finds every thread he catches is already torn away from its seam, like his world is unraveling faster and faster as she fades in front of him.

"Please don't leave me," He begs, leaning down to kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her lips, "You're everything, you can't leave me, Dani, please."

He sees tears on her face and realises with a jolt that she's not the one crying - he is.

When the ambulance crew finally shows up, they initially head for Rayborn since he's closer to them.

"He's already dead," Charlie shouts desperately, not even knowing if that's true, "Help her!"

He honestly doesn't give a fuck if Rayborn is dead or not. He shot Dani in the chest - if he's not dead already, Charlie will kill him just as soon as he's conscious enough to appreciate the agony he wants to put him through.

"So do you guys need me to book plane tickets back from- hey, where are you anyway?" Ted asks, and Charlie finds himself equal parts glad that he called and wishing he hadn't.

"We're- Cancun. Mexico." He says, the words sticking in his throat, "He shot her. Rayborn shot Dani."

"What the hell happened?" Ted asks in shock, and Charlie's holding the phone so tight he hears the plastic creak under the strain.

"He told us what we needed to know so we followed him off of the plane and he tried to ambush us - Rayborn, the pilot and the guy waiting for him who I guess was his driver all pulled guns on us." It feels like it's taking a great deal of concentrated effort to force himself to recall everything exactly as it happened.

"How are you not dead?" Ted asks, sounding horrified.

"I heard the pilot behind me, so I turned to look and he pulled a gun, then I don't- we were all firing at each other; I shot the pilot and then the driver shot at me when I turned around and I think I shot him and then…" he trails off aimlessly.

"Rayborn?" Ted asks, his voice steady but cautious.

"She got him before she went down." There's a twisted kind of pride in his voice. He's saved her life before, but his girl can fight her own battles.

"Jesus, Charlie." Ted mutters, "Is there anything we can do?"

"No, just- is Rachel okay?" He asks and there's a long pause that makes him feel a familiar sense of dull dread. "What happened?" He lets his eyes fall closed again.

"She overheard Olivia and I earlier while we were talking about Jack Reese." Ted says guiltily, and the small amount of accumulated trepidation dissipates.

"Does she know what happened?"

"In far too much detail. We really thought we were alone and so I was explaining some of the stuff that was going on to Liv - including how Reese died - and next thing we know Rachel appears in the doorway looking like she's been sucker punched."

"Where is she now?" Charlie asks, figuring he should probably talk to her and make sure she's doing okay.

"She and her boyfriend left pretty fast - I'm not sure where they went." Ted replies, sounding concerned, but Charlie isn't worried. He packed her off and sent her to Europe by herself for the better part of six months and she coped just fine. Rachel can take care of herself.

"Oh, you might need to call our lawyer." Charlie remembers, "We didn't exactly foresee international travel on the cards for tonight so we don't have visas or passports or anything. Plus, you know, the three people we shot."

"No problem." Ted replies.

"Uh, Detective Crews?" His eyes fly open to see a woman wearing blue scrubs standing in front of him. His whole chest tightens unbearably.

"I gotta go." He tells Ted, then hangs up without waiting for his reply.

He stands up and immediately asks, "How is she?"

"Miss. Reese is doing well, we're just bringing her around now. You can see her if you like." The woman has a warm Spanish accent that would probably be calming in almost any other situation - not this one though. They've walked into traps and been thwarted at every damn turn in this whole investigation, so he won't be satisfied until he can see her and hold her and know that she's okay.

"Of course," He replies immediately, "Lead the way."

She nods and gives him a sympathetic smile as she turns and leads him through a set of double doors, through a few corridors and some more doors, up a flight of stairs and then a little way down the hall and into Dani's room. There's a doctor and two nurses there, checking her vitals and observing her to make sure there's no complications as she wakes up.

She's mumbling half formed words as she starts to regain consciousness, forcing her eyes open to see where she is, and he can see the nurses becoming restless as Dani starts to panic at not knowing where she is or what's happening. He steps past one of them, who protests but Charlie ignores him and is at her side immediately, gently touching her arms and her face and trying to calm her down.

"It's okay. You're okay, just breathe, sweetheart, everything's fine." He works to keep his voice even and steady as he talks to her, like seeing her like this isn't one of the scariest things that's ever happened to him - which is saying a lot considering the path his life has taken.

"Charlie?" She mumbles his name and tries to open her eyes wider, to make sure this is really happening and not some anesthesia induced dream.

"I'm here," He tells her, brushing her hair back off her face as her movements slow and she starts to settle, "You're safe now."

When everything has calmed down a little, and the doctor has given the okay for Dani to be moved out of the ICU and into a private room, Charlie figures it's probably time they talked about the phone call. They also need to talk about Dani's solo trip to California State Prison and subsequent lie on the topic, but that's a discussion for another day - a day when she's not laid up in hospital.

He's sitting on the chair beside her bed, leaning in closely and holding her hand.

"I just got off the phone with a charming woman from CSP." He tells her, "She said to tell you that Peter Jackson was stabbed this morning."

"Is he dead?" Dani asks, her face deliberately blank and her voice even and steady. The way her fingers start to pick at a loose thread on the blue blanket spread over her tell a different story - she knows there's very few ways someone would have been persuaded to disclose a personal matter over the phone.

"Yep." Charlie confirms, "No murder weapon, no suspects, no leads."

She nods, just as unsurprised as he is.

Someone died - actually, a few someones have died recently, but part of him still feels like a little kid at Christmas- she's okay, she's fine, she's right here in front of you.

Finally, after a settling of silence, he can't help it. "So, Mrs. Crews, is there anything you want to talk about?"

"Don't be smug," She grouches, still picking at the loose thread, "It's not a good look on you."

"I'm trying not to," He tells her honestly, wearing a grin that lights the room, "But I can't help it."

Dani hums disapprovingly, but nods with a knowing look. Then, as Charlie often does, he drops the smile from his face and his eyes drop down to looks at where their hands are joined atop the blankets.

"You flat lined in the ambulance on our way here." He tells her carefully, his voice quiet and controlled as he maps her hand with his fingers, "And I've never been that scared in all my life."

"Hey," She tells him, settling her free hand on his cheek to get him to look back at her, "I'm here now."

"You are." He agrees, and his smile is both weary and grateful. She can't help but smile back, before a somewhat troubling thought occurs to her.

"Charlie, where exactly is here?" She asks, her eyes flicking around the fairly stereotypical hospital room she now finds herself in, as if looking for something that might give her a hint.

"Here is an ever changing reality inhabited by both impermanent beings and equally impermanent objects, and is just as likely to be in one place as another." He rattles off without even having to stop and think about it.

"Yes, but geographically speaking, where are we?" She presses, no longer batting an eyelash at the Zen thing. She finds it's grown on her.

"I think you might actually enjoy this part." He says with a gleam in his eye. "Remember you once told me that if you had my- you know, means, you'd be on a beach somewhere?"

She nods appraisingly, prompting him to continue. "We're in Mexico." He tells her, "Cancun to be exact. George is really earning his retainer this month since he's currently trying to prove that we didn't intentionally enter the country illegally. Plus, you know, the whole thing with the three dead guys on the runway."

She doesn't think she'll ever get used to that - his cavalier attitude towards death. She supposes that being surrounded by it would cause one of two possible paths; either, like Charlie, you become fairly hardened to it, you find a way of separating yourself from it; or, like Dani, you become wary of it to the point of fear. Death becomes the monster in the closet, the sourceless shadow across the park in the night time.

"I'm sorry I lied to you." She says quietly when he doesn't look up from their hands. "I should have called you as soon as I figured out Jackson was something to do with all of this."

He looks up at her finally, wearing an expression she can't place - it's strange - somewhere between annoyed and apologetic. "We don't have to talk about this now if-"

"Yes, we do." Dani disagrees, knowing she's right.

He watches her hesitantly for a second before nodding his agreement. "Why did you do it then?" He asks and she sighs.

"Truthfully I'm not completely sure. I just- it was such a long shot. I didn't even have any kind of evidence to prove my half-formed theory and I didn't want to subject you to going back there if I was wrong." Dani replies slowly as she thinks it through.

"It wouldn't have been the first time I'd gone back, Dani." He points out, "Being a cop, it's sometimes in the job description."

"I know." She tells him immediately, "God, I know, it's ridiculous. I just." She cuts herself off and sighs. "I guess I was misguidedly trying... to protect you."

He smiles - now somewhere between apologetic and pleased. "That's my job." He tells her, knowing it'll get a rise out of her.

She doesn't disappoint. She narrows her eyes at him, "Because I'm such a damsel in distress I can't take care of myself at all." She agrees sarcastically, before realising that the expression on his face isn't apologetic at all - he's embarrassed. He's ashamed that she felt the need to take care of him.

"Crews." She complains, "We've been partners for two years. It's just as much my job to watch your back as it is yours to watch mine." Her voice is chiding as he settles comfortably in the conclusion that this non-argument is a simple one to solve. They're both wrong when it comes down to it - Dani shouldn't have lied to him and he shouldn't forget that just because they're together now, doesn't mean she can't still 'have his back' like she did when they were just partners at work. She's one of the few people in the world he would trust with his life, and that hasn't changed just because they've crossed certain lines - if anything, it's gotten stronger.

"I want to ask you something," He blurts, staring at their clasped hands, "But I feel like it's probably not something you want me to ask."

She raises her free hand and tilts his chin up so he's looking at her. She looks sure and steady when she says with a shrug (which is followed by a slight wince at her aching chest muscles), "Only one way to find out."

He looks down at her, preparing to steel his nerves, and finding he suddenly doesn't need to. He's sure about her - if she says she's not ready, or even if she says flat out 'no', that doesn't change the fact that they're in love, and living together, and he can't see a time when they won't be. None of that will change, no matter what her answer, and he honestly just wants to be with her for the rest of his life; rings and a piece of paper be damned.

He uses his free hand to smooth her hair back off of her face, then leans down to kiss her, with a slow sureness that has no less passion to it than other faster, more intense kisses they've shared.

He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, a peaceful smile on his face as he looks down at the love of his life.

"Will you marry me?" He asks, and an immediate, unconscious smile spreads across her face, then something less than a laugh and more than a giggle bursts between her lips.

"Thank god you actually asked that," she tells him with a grin, "I was worried then that I'd read you wrong and you were just going to ask if we could get a cat or something."

"You're killing me over here," He says, whining just a little, "Is that a yes? It sounds like it might be a yes."

"Of course I'm saying yes, dumbass." She tells him, rolling her eyes and pulling him down for a kiss that isn't really a proper kiss on account of how neither one of them can stop smiling.

"This day just got so much better." He grins, brushing his hand through her hair, "You'll have to wait until we get home to see the ring though."

She can picture the kind of ring he's probably bought her - and what it probably cost him - and she narrows her eyes. He just smiles guilelessly and leans down to kiss her again.