i've still got a lot of fight left in me ,

“I just did get rest,” Catie half-whined in protest, though didn’t object when he pulled her back in. In truth, she’d almost been thankful for the distraction and the reason to keep herself up at all hours. She didn’t sleep well without Charlie, and when he was gone she couldn’t help but flash back to his time in the military when she was unsure if he would come home or not. He was safe now, they were safe now, but she couldn’t help but still feel it. “I can take care of myself when I’m out of law school. Sleep then, too.” She knew the mumble would still be heard, and likely met with more protests. “Until then, coffee.” “Look at us, having a glance into our senior years in our twenties.” She groaned, shaking her head with a bit of a laugh. “Aren’t people our age supposed to be able to be out all night and then fine the next day? This is pitiful. We need to up our game.” Granted, that wasn’t supposed to be a nightly thing as her all-nighters were. “Is this what happens when you go to college and don’t join a sorority and party all the time? You turn into a grandma early?” Catie shook her head, giving him a final squeeze as she pulled away. She reached up to pull the elastic from her hair, feeling the all-too-familiar tension of a headache building that she didn’t want to contribute to. “Nope. No way, partner. I’m as well-rested as I’m going to get.” What a joke. “I can sleep when I’m out of law school and have a name of my own built. ..Maybe not then. I’m pretty sure Annalise sold her soul for the ability to make prosecutors cry and not sleep, so I guess we’ll just see.” She cracked a grin and shrugged, finally finally making her way towards the bathroom. She unbuttoned her stained shirt as she headed that way, half-tempted to throw it away rather than try to rescue it from the stain splattered all over her abdomen. “I’ll be fine after a shower,” she said dismissively, tossing the shirt in his direction once she’d finished, aiming to hit him square in the face. “And I do not snore like a chainsaw.”

Charlie snatched the shirt out of the air as it arced towards his face, more out of reflex than on purpose. “You know I’m going to nag you and worry about you for like, ever, though,” He called after her, turning to head towards the stacked washer and dryer that was nestled in a closet off their kitchen. He spritzed stain treatment on her blouse, before stripping off his shirt to treat it, too. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m over being up at all hours. Let me be an old man,” He answered, raising his voice to be heard across the apartment. “I’m happy to go to bed, when I have someone so lovely to share it with!”

He dropped the two stained shirts into the drum of the washer, followed by two detergent pods, before returning for the dirty clothes he’d packed in his pack for the return home. He emptied the bag, listening to Catie turn on the water. It splashed lightly as she put a hand under the flow to test its temperature.

“I’m just sayin’, I got dibs on you tonight. Annalise can suck it. I’ve been gone for a week and I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on at least falling asleep in the same bed, if nothing more.”

"I, on the other hand, was not a Marine. So I guess it's my turn to not sleep." Though truthfully, she had plenty of sleepless nights when he was away on deployment. She left the bathroom door open once she had entered so to still hear him, willing to sacrifice the heat and the steam after going a week without seeing him. Truthfully, it was tempting to blow off going to the clinic to spend the whole day with him, but she knew it wasn't really an option. She couldn't afford to be the lazy one, or the only one without all the information she needed. It was her last year in law school, the time to really hustle. She could take a break once she was done. Well, hopefully anyway.

“Crazy case or not, you need to get some rest. You’re not even getting paid to deal with this shit, so you do need to make sure you’re taken care of, too, love,” Charlie murmured, pulling her back towards him and into a hug. He could feel the sticky dampness of the coffee stain they both wore, slowly warming against their skin.

“I’m too tired to get together too much enthusiasm, either, but I’m super excited to be home early, too,” He added, stifling a yawn that was triggered by hers. “I bet after we both get some sleep, we’ll be a lot more excited looking.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, keeping her pulled in close to his lanky frame.

He could blame his construction job for the reason that muscles still swelled underneath his tee shirt as he held her, and not that he was still fighting, albeit in a new way. Getting out of the Marines, he’d expected to grow softer, especially under Catie’s doting, but an unexpected job offer saw to it that he’d never had the chance. 

“Catie,” Charlie chuckled, the sound rumbling low in his chest, “Let me. Go nap for a bit, I’ll throw laundry in, and get the coffee going when you get back up. A little bit more work ain’t gonna kill me, and I’ll crash when you’re at work. Do that annoying thing where I turn the A/C all the way down, black out all the lights, and snore like a chainsaw. Deal?”

Caitlin froze when she heard the familiar voice, looking around the apartment in a bit of a panic because he came into view. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. She stood, looking at the mountains of papers around her as she kicked off her heels that she was still wearing from the day before. While she was absolutely ecstatic that he was home early, their apartment was more of a wreck than it had been in a very long time. She had thought that she would have more time, so that she would be able to not only finish this hell case but clean. And not just declutter, but deep clean. He worked hard and deserved a clean apartment to come home to, not this chaos.

“….I thought I would have time clean,” she said a little sheepishly, sighing and offering a smile. “Pay no mind. It’ll be cleared up as soon as I have my breakthrough and the case is over.” She realized how crazy she must look, surrounded by mountains of boxes and files and stacks of papers. “….just try not to touch anything. There’s a method to all of this madness and everything is exactly where I need it to be.”

Then all at once she was crossing the room, up on tiptoe to loop her arms around his neck and pull him close. She buried her face against his neck for a moment, planting a few kisses there before moving up to trail them to his mouth, planting a firm one against his lips. “I missed you” she mumbled as she pulled away, smiling up at him sleepily. Why did he always need to work in a field that took him away from her? He would still take a few odd weeks away over a deployment any day. She pulled back and looked at him, dropping back down onto flat feet. “Sorry about the mess….and the coffee I just transferred from my shirt to yours.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement behind his glasses as she sheepishly tried to explain. “I promise I won’t. Don’t worry about the mess, baby–just worry about you.” He stepped fully into the apartment, dropping his pack on the floor with a soft thump. Charlie had no idea how she’d managed to have her case paperwork get this out of hand in a week, but he was the first to admit he wouldn’t have known a damn thing about what she did in the first place.

“I missed you too,” He mumbled back, leaning into her kisses. He’d definitely missed her kisses, her warmth, her scent… her unending to-do lists. A pang of guilt hit his stomach. He’d promised her when he got out that he’d be done with it all and settle into a normal life, but here he was, deeper in than ever before and desperate to keep her from knowing.

Caitlin idly nuzzled into his neck, hiding another yawn. "I know it's super not showing right now because I'm too tired to even throw an ounce of enthusiasm your way, but I'm super ridiculously happy you're back early. It'll come through once I get some coffee in me." She was so sick of caffeine, and knew she probably shouldn't be drinking as much as she was with how fast it made her heart pound. She always told herself she would stop as soon as the case was over, but then the next one began just days (or sometimes even hours) after. "Speaking of, I need to brew another pot....that one is definitely cold by now, don't drink it."

For a person so concerned with tidying up and organization, her apartment showed no signs of either skill. Papers were strewn in a manner that seemed to have no organizational bearings, files and folders piled in a disarray. Several cardboard boxes littered the floor, filled to the brim with more papers and files that she had yet to sort through. Really, the entire living room (and some of the bedroom, but that door was closed to avoid seeing that mess) was more paper than furniture. For a moment, after she’d taken half of a second to breathe, her heart began to pound at the mere thought of how much of a fire hazard she’d produced with all this paper…. but she hadn’t another half a second to care. Too busy, too busy, too busy.  The trial was in two days, and the case still seemed unwinnable. Stacking evidence against their client, testimonies out the wazoo, and not a single ball in their court. The situation was seeming more and more dismal by the moment, and Caitlin found herself questioning if the woman in question had in fact murdered her own daughter after discovering the deceased’s affair with her stepfather. She had to shake that thought away, because even if she believed her client guilty, it was her job to find a way out. Some faulty evidence, discrediting a witness or a medical examiner..something, anything.  Well, it was technically her boss’s job, but she and her other colleagues had been voluntold to find an answer. Any answer, anything, but they were grasping at straws. By colleagues, she meant fellow interns. Why was she doing so much an intern? She asked herself this question at least fifteen times a day, and had to remind herself that the attorney she was interning for was a force to be reckoned with. One of the most sought-after attorneys on the west coast, and she had picked Caitlin and four lucky (well, maybe) others out of all of the students at Stanford Law (approximately 800 or so). Caitlin had to remind herself that she was lucky, that she had earned her golden ticket, that this internship was going to jet set her to greatness once she finished school and passed all of her exams. At least that was what she had to believe while she did all of the leg work for some other woman to take the credit, otherwise she’d cry. And she did enough of that already. But for now, she was asleep. She hadn’t meant to, but exhausted had quite literally taken over and refused to accept anything other than yes as an answer. She wasn’t even comfortable, adding insult to injury, face-down in more papers with cold coffee beside her. She’d averaged three hours of sleep over the course of the past two days, discounting quick power naps where she hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep. Caitlin was still dressed for work from the day before, blazer draped across the chair behind her and pink blouse ruffled, but at least the skirt still looked presentable. She may be able to get away with just changing the blouse, the black pencil skirt was pretty interchangeable with the others in her closet… And just like that, her phone rang, and she jolted awake. Her hand immediately knocked into the forgotten coffee mug, pouring the contents onto her lap and earning a sharp (and sleepy) swear. Eyes only half open, she reached blindly across the desk, strewing papers everywhere and onto the floor, patting the surface in search of her phone. It stopped ringing, and Caitlin groaned, leaning back in her chair slightly. She rubbed at her eyes, fighting a yawn, allowing herself a slow stretch. She looked down at her coffee-stained clothes and sighed; so much for re-wearing anything. Her phone began to ring again, and she sighed, reaching for it as she heard the door open. “Connor? Connor, I – what have I told you about calling and showing up simultaneously?”

With a shudder and a jolt, the small jet touched down on the runway of the Palo Alto airport, slowing to a roll. The pilot taxied the plane towards the row it was directed to by the tower, as the jet’s only passenger roused, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Slightly sunburned and more than a little jetlagged, Charlie was back in the U.S. after a week overseas for work. The cockpit door opened to reveal the rather eccentric pilot, his surplus Air Force crush cap atop his head at a jaunty angle, clashing wildly with the parrot-print Hawaiian shirt he wore. Flip flops slapped against the carpet as he stepped out of the cockpit and closed it behind him.

“Thanks for the ride, Mac,” Charlie yawned, stretching one last time before rising from his seat. Mac nodded, already opening the forward closet to retrieve a long, padded case. He handed it to Charlie.

“Any time. I mean, it’s what they pay me for, after all.”

Charlie flashed a friendly grin and bumped his glasses up his nose. In the loose-fitting flannel he wore over a plain tee-shirt, he looked deceptively slight and harmless. He pulled out a coyote-colored daypack from the row of seats behind him, hefting it onto his shoulder as he adjusted the handle of the padded case.

“‘ppreciate it, all the same. You know if Martin’s here yet, or if I’m gonna be stuck waiting for him to pick me up again?”

“See, I thought about it, ‘nd I figured you’d wanna get home to see the little lady as quick as possible… so I told him we were due to land about a half hour ago. He oughta just be gettin’ here now,” Mac grinned lazily, obviously pleased with his foresight.

“Ah, you’re a genius. Thank you. I’ll see you next time, alright?”

Charlie skipped down the steps to the tarmac of the tiny airport, heading for the squat terminal. As he pushed through the glass doors, his cell phone chirped with a message. He juggled his luggage a bit until he’d freed a hand to fish the device out of his pocket to check it. 

I’m here. Black Ford.

The number wasn’t saved, but Charlie knew it was Martin, here to pick him up. Just outside the doors ahead of Charlie was the car in question, a middle-aged man in sunglasses leaning against the side.

He straightened as Charlie pushed through the door, popping the trunk with the keyfob in his hand. 

“Made it back in one piece, I take it,” He commented, reaching out a hand to take Charlie’s bags.

“No thanks to Espinosa,” Charlie griped, handing off his bags and slipping into the back seat, “You mind making a quick stop at the storage unit before dropping me off?”

“Sure thing,” Martin answered, sliding behind the wheel.

—

The first thing Charlie heard upon opening his front door was Catie’s tired, irritated voice scolding her twin.

“Baby, it’s me,” He called back, “Job got done early, so they sent the crew home.”

He’d supposedly been out of town, working as part of a construction crew that was working on building a shopping mall the next state over. That job had been his cover for the past few months, whenever he needed to leave town for work.

As he pushed the door shut behind him, he surveyed the chaos that was their apartment.

"....I thought I would have time clean," she said a little sheepishly, sighing and offering a smile. "Pay no mind. It'll be cleared up as soon as I have my breakthrough and the case is over." She realized how crazy she must look, surrounded by mountains of boxes and files and stacks of papers. "....just try not to touch anything. There's a method to all of this madness and everything is exactly where I need it to be."

Cutie by the beach. 😍

It made his chest ache to know that she was so upset, but he had so few options for helping her. Her heart was probably racing, galloping ahead of her with its arrhythmic beat he’d always loved and feared together. She was supposed to be on two different medications for that, but she’d long since run out. And honestly, it wasn’t like either of them would live to be little old people, sitting on a porch together.

Same as always. She’d given him a little view of her nightmares when thy’d first found each other again. He dominated them, bleeding out on the hospital floor. Her brother, trying to eat her alive. He understood. He’d seen the horrors first hand, had put down his own family too.

“I am.” He conceded, voice soft enough only she could hear it over the wind. He didn’t want to attract others, living or dead, to their little camp. “But you’re more important.” He argued with her, determined to make her feel that she wasn’t a burden. She wasn’t. Not in the slightest, as far as he was concerned. “But if you’re so determined to get me in bed…” His voice grew teasing as he nuzzled her soft hair. He’d never been good at emotions. His time in the military hadn’t helped, but it had served to only hone his use of innuendo and sarcasm to defuse emotional situations.

Even in the darkness, he knew she was crying. He knew the same way he knew she missed her planner and regular showers and her twin. It was part of what made Katie, Katie. He was glad she still could cry–that the world hadn’t hardened her sweet heart enough to stop her tears. He also knew that she was trying to keep it from him, because she thought he was dealing with too much. That’s why she was his best girl. His grip on her tightened slightly, giving her a squeeze. “You know you can talk about it, right?” He murmured, lips brushing her hair in a soft kiss. “I’m always here for you.”

She was his reason to keep fighting. When he needed the motivation to survive after putting down his little brother and his parents, he focused on finding her. Once he found her, he switched to protecting her. One step at a time, one more headshot, one more day, moving forward beside her. He’d dreamed about facing life with her at his side when he bought the ring years ago. He just never had imagined it would look like this.

She flashed him a shaky, but fake, smile, trying to convince him to go back to sleep. He wouldn’t have minded another few hours, but since she’d woken him, he was loathe to leave her to sit up by herself. “’m okay.” He mumbled, suppressing a yawn. “Love you, Katie Grace.”

Sleeping heavily wasn’t a habit Charlie had retained since high school. When your life was lived under a constant but low-key threat of danger, your brain just couldn’t completely settle all the way, like a wary animal dozing, ears still flicking for any hint of a threat. With the undead roaming the world in greater numbers than ever before… well, he hadn’t had a solid night’s sleep in years. They’d secured their little camp enough to feel that no one needed to stand watch that night, and had bedded down, enjoying curling up together to share warmth against the winter winds.

When the figure next to him jerked upright, Charlie rolled over to face her, fingers curling around the handle of his knife that was never out of reach. Coming to completely, his whisper broke the silence.

“Katie? You okay?” In the darkness, he could make out the shape of his beloved fiancée curling around her knees, sniffling softly. With his free hand, he reached out to rub her back. He knew she struggled with nightmares. before the world had gone to shit, she dreamt about him coming home in a box, blown to pieces by an IED. Now she dreamt about the horrors that surrounded them daily. Or at least that’s what he guessed. IED’s weren’t exactly a problem anymore. No longer groggy, he sat up, leaving the knife on the ground next to their sleeping bag. His arms slipped around her shivering form, drawing her close enough that he could rest his chin on her head. “Nightmares, huh?” He guessed that he was lucky that his brain never quite shut down enough to dream. At least the nights brought some semblance of peace to him, if not to her.

“Kaaatttiiieeee…” Charlie practically sang, ducking into the supply tent where his fianceé practically lived. He’d been cleared once and for all by the med staff, fit to return to duty. Among other things. “Katie Grace?” He peered around the tent, his eyes adjusting to the dimness inside. He poked his glasses back up his nose, grinning as he found the familiar figure of his girl, reading one of her many lists. Slipping up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Hi. Guess what?”