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intheheartTitle: comfort
Rating: PG
Summary: Ahava sits with Duncan.
Warnings: none.
Notes: I guess today is about divorce. And fanfic.
Ahava took a quick break from writing up her case notes and went downstairs, cracking her knuckles as she went, for a cup of coffee and a snack. All of her urgent slots had been filled today, which had been... exciting but left her no time to complete her paperwork. Hence, the files came home with her, and Duncan got banned from her study until she was no longer working with confidential material. He was pretty good about that.
He was pretty good about everything, actually. They'd lived together before, of course, but that had been more than fifteen years ago, and people changed. Still, Duncan seemed to remember what she liked and didn't like, and went out of his way to keep her environment just the way she liked it.
As a friend, she loved it. As a psychiatrist, she was concerned.
Well, he wasn't her patient and she shouldn't speculate. His divorce was going how it was going and he would tell her when he was ready.
She made her coffee, snagged a couple of Oreos (god bless Duncan and his shopping habits) and went back toward her study, cutting through the living room on the way. And found Duncan, hunched over on the couch, reading old letters.
His old letters. His old love letters. To Leila.
Ahava sighed, and detoured.
"You gotta talk to me sometime," she said, circling around the couch.
Duncan didn't look up. "I know," he said. "I just... I'm not ready."
She ruffled his hair and sat down beside him. "It's been weeks."
Weeks since he moved out. Weeks since he'd seen Leila. Weeks since he'd been able to read his daughter a bedtime story, kiss her forehead, and tuck her in. Ahava put her arm around his shoulder.
Duncan leaned into her. His grip on the letters tightened, crumpling the paper. "I know," he said again, and then, "I miss her."
"Leila?"
"Yeah," he said, and then shook his head. "No. Safiya. Both of them. I don't know."
"I'm sorry," she said, awkward and worried. It was so much easier when she wasn't invested in the situation; when the patient was a patient and not her dearest and oldest friend. "I wish I could make it better."
He huffed a laugh, and finally let go of the papers. They fluttered to the floor, spread out around his feet like a broken plate. "You can't," he said, "but I guess it's nice that you want to try."
"Yeah." She understood that. She'd felt that way when her father died.
They were quiet together for a while, Duncan's breath a little ragged, until he spoke up suddenly. "But you love me, right?"
There were tears in his voice, though not yet on his face. Ahava pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head. "I love you," she told him. "I love you endlessly and without limits."
He laughed, a little wet. "That means the same thing."
"Forgive me for using repetition to make a point," she replied, and kissed the top of his head again. "Seriously though, I love you. And like I said, I'm on your side. I have your back. Always."
Duncan put both arms around her ribcage and hugged, uncomfortably tight, but real, and grounded.
Sometimes, Ahava knew, all you could do was hold on.
So she held on.
Rating: PG
Summary: Ahava sits with Duncan.
Warnings: none.
Notes: I guess today is about divorce. And fanfic.
Ahava took a quick break from writing up her case notes and went downstairs, cracking her knuckles as she went, for a cup of coffee and a snack. All of her urgent slots had been filled today, which had been... exciting but left her no time to complete her paperwork. Hence, the files came home with her, and Duncan got banned from her study until she was no longer working with confidential material. He was pretty good about that.
He was pretty good about everything, actually. They'd lived together before, of course, but that had been more than fifteen years ago, and people changed. Still, Duncan seemed to remember what she liked and didn't like, and went out of his way to keep her environment just the way she liked it.
As a friend, she loved it. As a psychiatrist, she was concerned.
Well, he wasn't her patient and she shouldn't speculate. His divorce was going how it was going and he would tell her when he was ready.
She made her coffee, snagged a couple of Oreos (god bless Duncan and his shopping habits) and went back toward her study, cutting through the living room on the way. And found Duncan, hunched over on the couch, reading old letters.
His old letters. His old love letters. To Leila.
Ahava sighed, and detoured.
"You gotta talk to me sometime," she said, circling around the couch.
Duncan didn't look up. "I know," he said. "I just... I'm not ready."
She ruffled his hair and sat down beside him. "It's been weeks."
Weeks since he moved out. Weeks since he'd seen Leila. Weeks since he'd been able to read his daughter a bedtime story, kiss her forehead, and tuck her in. Ahava put her arm around his shoulder.
Duncan leaned into her. His grip on the letters tightened, crumpling the paper. "I know," he said again, and then, "I miss her."
"Leila?"
"Yeah," he said, and then shook his head. "No. Safiya. Both of them. I don't know."
"I'm sorry," she said, awkward and worried. It was so much easier when she wasn't invested in the situation; when the patient was a patient and not her dearest and oldest friend. "I wish I could make it better."
He huffed a laugh, and finally let go of the papers. They fluttered to the floor, spread out around his feet like a broken plate. "You can't," he said, "but I guess it's nice that you want to try."
"Yeah." She understood that. She'd felt that way when her father died.
They were quiet together for a while, Duncan's breath a little ragged, until he spoke up suddenly. "But you love me, right?"
There were tears in his voice, though not yet on his face. Ahava pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head. "I love you," she told him. "I love you endlessly and without limits."
He laughed, a little wet. "That means the same thing."
"Forgive me for using repetition to make a point," she replied, and kissed the top of his head again. "Seriously though, I love you. And like I said, I'm on your side. I have your back. Always."
Duncan put both arms around her ribcage and hugged, uncomfortably tight, but real, and grounded.
Sometimes, Ahava knew, all you could do was hold on.
So she held on.
