A/N: A little different than what I'm used to. Also a little strange. But I thought it may be worth posting. Could definitely be taken down a different road and made into a comfort of the complete physical kind, but I don't believe I'm quite there yet.

I am seriously missing the show right now, how 'bout you?

I own nothing.

Comfort

There will be moments where we search for the other, just to see one another breathing. It has become almost like a routine. An unspoken agreement. A month has passed and the events that took place are still very fresh in all our minds. All we have to do is look at each other and reassurance settles back in. We could always comfort each other when the moment and time arose. Just one look and we were fine.

But looks can only go so far.

Sitting on his office couch, nothing between us but papers and video tapes from our latest case, a moment happened.

My left knee kept colliding into his right, but neither of us moved. I was rather quiet, saying a random opinion or two. Cal too was silent, thinking. Playing and replaying videos of our recent victim. Freezing the tape every five seconds to obsess over a facial twitch he may have missed. Beating himself up on the inside.

Our latest case was a depressing one, pushing us all in different directions, obtaining strange moods. Things weren't exactly going smooth either. In no degree at all was anything going our way, making the progress that much more difficult.

Cal was taking it hard, leaving this heavy weight on his shoulders. Bringing everyone else down along with him. Me, I feel, more than anyone.

It's how we've become. We share so much with each other that our feelings are one in the same. Knowing what we both are thinking, completely understanding our work and what needs to be done. Our thoughts in tune.

I look up into Cals' down turned face, his form. Despair washed over him. He appeared to be in shadow. Sadness was in the air around us, swallowing any hopes of happiness. He was in a downfall with no signs of slowing. I feel a sudden burn in the back of my throat as I try to swallow. Blinking back tears that were trying to spill over, I never wanted anything so badly as to comfort him.

He honestly didn't need this. All this torture with himself, shredding away his moral. The harsh lies always shoved into his face. I take a small breath thinking about what I could do for him. I want to just wrap my arms around him. To have some kind of contact, bring him out of the state he was in. Show him that truth was out there, was right beside him.

He needed to know human touch again; he, who had blocked that out years ago. Not only did he deserve that back in his life, but I admit personally, I could use the contact too. For the both of us to let go of the restraints, what good it could do.

Full trust and support that says, 'I'm here, I'm always here.'

Needing more than just looks to reassure us we still had one another. I believed it was right about time we had that. If not, I was taking the leap anyways. The line was a mere spot in the road. To take away the pain was so dire now, I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to.

I silently move the folders I'd been holding to the side of his coffee table. Reaching determined, I take the papers out of his hands too, along with the remote he was over working.

He looks up at me abruptly, like he just woke from a deep trance. His questioning stare didn't surprise me, so I continue moving forward. With our eyes locked now, Cal studies me with such an intensity, I'm momentarily breathless. Relentless, though, I had already made up my mind on what to do.

Our hands touch and I grasp his more sure of anything. I had to let him know everything would be alright. I was here for him and cared about his well being. He was not alone. We were in this together for the long haul.

Slowly I move a hand to the side of his face, all while still keeping my eyes on his.

Dark green I've seen, known, can recognize, have memorized.

He blinks once, looking unsure about what is going on. Dark circles have appeared, reminding me what little sleep he's had. His hair is unkempt, messy. Clothes rumpled and disheveled, telling me he's probably stayed here at the office for quite some time.

My fingertips move along his jaw and I see his eyes soften as they look at me. A new light comes to them, emotions he always hides so well. I incline my head a fraction, as if my mind is saying 'Yes, we are allowing this. We aren't stopping now.'

For what seemed like an eternity, we just sat there. He barely moves, his chest rising and falling in such a slow rhythm. My right hand stays on the curve of his cheek. Our eyes dancing.

So much was laid out in front of us. I take a shaky breath. He opens his mouth as if to say something but doesn't.

Then he makes a sudden move and his head is on my shoulder, arms wrapping around my waist. I can feel his warm breath on my neck and a involuntary shudder escapes through my body. Hands free, I softly rub his back, feeling the muscles move as he brings me closer. Relief came flooding in, blowing away any horrible sense of failure. He breathes heavily and I can almost see the worn, beaten walls bend, break and fall.

He whispers my name and a tear cascades down my face.

His hands grip my sides. A tremble goes through his body and straight into mine, shaking me to the core. My heart pounds as we become unabashedly enveloped in the presence of the other. I lean completely into him, bringing my arms tight around his back.

We sway in the motion our bodies have created, not wanting to let go of the solace that lifted us out of the dark.

Hot tears collide into my shoulder and seeps into the fabric of my dress, as the sensation of letting go all the pain that haunted him broke loose. I run a hand up the back of his neck, through his soft hair and down again. Both hands make a quivering journey over my back, to my shoulder blades and he sighs in a way that has my whole being surrendering.

I'm nearly on his lap. His lips lightly mark an area on the base of my neck as another tear slips away from me.

Words weren't necessary.

Breathing together as one, we held on to what we knew was real.

------------------

I'd like to think I'm his life support.

I want to be his rock; the person he can always come to. And I know I am. He is my truth.

Because it's the method that we work. For that small bit of comfort takes us a long way.

And we're ok.