You both stood before a brown door, Eva's name was written in a gold font across the glass insert. She was a woman of control and certainty, the opposite of the person you could ever be or wanted to be. You found facts and logics often clouded emotions, building a dam around much needed emotions. Despite this, you admired her.

"Mrs Grace," She began.

You froze.

There had been a time where hearing that name caused you to immediately tear up. Your sweet, doting husband, the man who left you to save the world. All your best memories included him, as well as the worst. Bile almost forced its way up your throat, but you pushed the feeling aside and took seat in the cushioned chair sitting just in front of an oak desk.

"Please, don't call me that."

Eva nodded and took a few small strides to the chair just behind the desk. Once she was seated, she was already logging into her computer. All of the files and videos that Dr Ryland Grace had sent over on the probe had been saved to a hard drive that only herself and others with special permission were granted to use. Everything from the research on astrophage to an introduction to Rocky were all sorted by level of importance. Effortlessly she pulled up a video, her fingers pausing as she opened it to full screen. "Okay," she spoke your name with a slight shakiness. Eva had originally planned to watch this video herself, however in the back of her mind she knew it was never going to be for her, not after she had sent him unwillingly to his death behind the back of his wife.

"I am not sure if you recall, but Dr Grace was sent out with probes to show his findings and send them back to earth as soon as possible," your chest tightened, "There is one specifically for you." Your eyes widened as you swallowed whatever bile you originally held bac. Erratically. you shook your head. You had gone years without seeing your husband and yet each day never got easier. He left you for a mission in space, one that he knew he would never return on, and he did not even bother to tell you until it was already too late. You both had to live with the consequences. Eva simply didn't have the heart to tell you the sacrifices she was willing to make at the time for the sake of all of humanity.

Her hand gently swivelled the screen to face you. "I will leave. I suggest you watch it," your name left her lips one last time. You took note of the sorrow and almost look of guilt that was furrowed deep within her brows. You didn't understand why she looked that way, not when this was nowhere near her fault. She may have been a prominent leader and decision maker in project hail Mary, but she was not the one who sent your husband on an endless trip to space to die. Or at least that was what you were told to believe. She stood, her dark coat swaying with each step she took closer towards the door. For a moment the slim woman turned back, her gaze resting on your tearful and scared eyes. "I will be outside when you need me." With one last nod she slipped outside, off to find you both a coffee... maybe two for herself.

You on the other hand could not even turn to acknowledge her. The cover screen of the video showed grace in his "I have potential!" graphic tee. It was the same one you had gifted him for his thirtieth birthday as a joke. He would have worn it every day if he was able to. The blonde was looking off screen with that gentle smile he typically saved for his students. Admiration and care pooled in his eyes, a certain glow to him that made this all too unbearable.

"I can do this..." you whispered.

Finally, you pressed play.

"Rocky, is it centred?"

His voice flooded the audio and for a moment it was like he was right next to you. You paused, choking back tears. You never moved on, simply returned to work as the school counsellor and dreaded the damned questions of your husbands eight grade science class. You pressed play.

"UH. Rocky don't know word. What is. question." There was a chuckle that came from your lover before he assisted his newfound friend to hold the camera on a slightly better tilt. Grace shook his head. "She just needs to see my face." he hummed in approval, suddenly unsure of what to say. They didn't have much space left in the memory drive, sow whatever important message he had to tell you he just had to say it. But after so long without you, with so many words and thoughts and feelings muddled in his brain all at once it became difficult to find the perfect thing to say to you. His wife, the woman he hadn't seen in over a few years now was probably still devoted to him, as he was to her and just as lonesome as he was, despite his friendship with Rocky.

"Hi..." He began, only to be interrupted by a brown rocklike structure to jolt in front of the camera. "Hi Grace mate!" Rocky emitted with a bright beam despite his faceless characteristics. Grace rolled his eyes, but there was a smidge of a smile forming across his aged face. He looked different, worn and tired, but still the same man you fell in love with.

"I wish I could see you right now. I never wanted to leave you like this, and I am so deeply sorry for not being able to see you... to um. to warn you before leaving. I didn't know I was leaving either..." He admitted, "But-!" He exclaimed, "I don't want to leave you empty handed." There was a moment of silence, neither rocky nor grace spoke.

You almost couldn't handle the flood of tears ready to roll down your face, drowning you beneath their salty weight. You had already seen Rocky from photos that a few other senior workers had given you the blessing of seeing. it seemed that Rocky was a good companion for Grace, and you appreciated that, even if the only thing you wanted in the moment was the peace of your husbands' arms wrapped tightly around you. You pulled the jacket on tighter, attempting to soak up the last warmth of Grace before paying attention on the video. You had turned away for too long, missing a small second where Rocky had gone off after Grace's request of privacy.

"He can still hear me, you know. Echolocation and all that, privacy is at a premium nowadays," he snickered, "Not like I had much anyway with you around." His eyes watered and he sighed, looking down at his lap.

His glasses slid down the slope of his nose, and you almost felt the urge to fix them despite being years away from him.

"I don't have much to say, just this," Grace inhaled deeply and pulled his glasses to the side. tears had already began forming, even as he tried to wipe them away. He would typically attribute it to dust or some fluff that had gotten in his eyes, but not this time. "It's been lonely without you in the mornings. I have Rocky, but it's not the same without you. I don't get to feel you or talk to you... God, I can only see you through a polaroid from our wedding." He rubbed his temple and closed his eyes.

You heard a small rumble in the background but didn't pay no mind to it as silent tears cascaded down your cheeks until you were nothing more than a mess of tears and snot.

He sighed once again, pushing a few stray curls away from his face. "I don't want you to forget that I will forever be here for you, even when I am light years away and... and not able to come home. We're hoping I can find a way back after I help Rocky, but I don't want to get your hopes up, sweetheart. I love you." He smiled at you.

And then it was over. Graces voice died off with the video and the screen turned black. Unable to move, paralysed by grief, you simply sat and sobbed. There was no attempting to console you. Grace was alive, but rather it felt he had died years ago, and this was just a simple façade of a way for you to forgive the betrayal that he had caused you. No. There was no point in holding a grudge, not at this point anyway. You understood that grace meant every word, and that was all you needed as you curled up in his jacket.

Fluorescent lights dawned upon your grubby face. Warmth spread across your cheek, a dampness that you had only just realised had begun to drip down your neck. The faint ambience of rushing footsteps and chatter among doctors and their patients drowned out by the deafening silence that corrupted your mind. You had never seen Princeton Plainsboro hospital so busy since there was an outbreak of bacterial meningitis at a swimming competition.

Today's call was brutal. A pile up on the highway that led to many injured, including yourself, and one critically injured. Being the first line of defence meant getting your hands dirty. Soot, dried blood and dirt smudged across your face and hands did nothing to help with the distressing state that you looked. You were rather lucky that your injuries were only minor, a simple mistake of hitting your head just that little bit too hard on a car door. While it served for a pretty good icebreaker between you and the young girl stuck within the motionless vehicle, it certainly did not leave you feeling too great.

There was no need to truly get checked out. The build up of dirt and soot would just cause a panic among your few friends littered in the hospital, so instead your heavy feet found their way from the emergency room to the fluorescent halls. You didn't need to think as you made your way to the elevator, a smudge of crimson dirt on the buttons. It appeared you had left a trail, little hints that slowly led to the prize that was you.

A few rights and a sharp left down one of the longest hallways you had ever bared witness to, you finally stood in front of your destination. The faintest smile fell across your face, your hands reaching for the cold door handle that separated you from your lovers. Despite the situation, just the thought of seeing them was enough to calm your racing heart. The tense feeling in your jaw, the main cause of your pounding headache (other than the probable concussion), was slowly starting to dissipate as you relaxed. You turned the handle, hoping that both of them would be in the head of the diagnostic's office. If anything, it would be Wilson hounding House to come to the emergency room to help with the commotion.

And you were right.

You peeked through the crack of the door, carefully and slowly pushing the door open with the faintest creek of the metallic hinges. Wilson leant over House's desk, plans pressed flat against the grained wood staring intensely into the others blue eyes, while House just sat there with his ever knowing smirk. They were clearly mid way through a playful argument, but at the sound of the door opening their staring contest ended. House's gaze flickered up to you, eyes widening momentarily as he took in your somewhat disheveled state. Wilson on the other hand, was yet to realise that it was you who had stepped inside the office, quickly fixing his stature and tie that had been tugged down by the man sitting across from him. He cleared his throat, flustered and almost embarrassed at being caught in what he assumed to be a bit of an intimate predicament.

Yet, as he turned and finally faced the person standing in the door he choked up. This was his worst nightmare— you —injured and looking as if you had crawled out of the seven layers of hell with nothing but the shirt on your back. His heart stuttered and so did his words, stuck in his throat with that nauseous feeling. Wilson glanced at House who was mirroring his expression, although much less dramatic, to you who couldn't stop grinning like an idiot.

It started with that stupid grin spreading across your face before it turned into a fit of giggles. The shock of the situation had hit you, and god the look of panic on their faces was almost too funny.

"How are you laughing about this?"

Wilson was the first to speak, undoubtedly aching in his chest from how carefree you were acting. He rushed towards you, frantically cupping your warm cheeks with his palms and turning your face in various ways to make sure that the blood wasn't your own. The bruise forming in the edge of your hair line and a crack like split in your skin did nothing to help his flustered mess. He may have been an oncologist, consistently surrounded by the haunting grips of death, but that had never prepared him for the thought of losing the one so dear to him.

House was always more nonchalant. While he denied the way he acted on emotions, he was somehow more emotionally equipped to handle the situation. It wasn't the first time after all.

"Wilson, they're okay." He began, finally moving to stand from his chair, limp as prominent as ever. You always bugged him about using his cane properly, but he never seemed to listen. Your eyes darted from the man before you to the one limping over.

"What? I can't pay you two a visit when I'm on the job?" You hum, the warmth of Wilson's hands across your face doing nothing but ground you in the situation. Stitching the fallen pieces of your mind together with just warm palms and worried words. Yet, it almost seemed like he needed you more in this moment. If it wasn't for the firm embrace of House's hand on his shoulder, Wilson may have just dragged you to an MRI and forced you in. "I'm okay.. really. It was a rough call, I wanted to see you before I had to leave." A bittersweet smile fell across your face as you cut them off.

"Don't go back," the gruff voice of Gregory house, the one of reason and decisiveness was beckoning you in, staring with pleading eyes. The resonance between the two of you moved further beyond comprehension, lingering on fierce emotions that tugged at your heart's. How could you deny the men you loved so dearly. You would have to hope that your boss wouldn't cause you out longer than you would be curled in their arms.

"I'll need a doctor's note then.." you smiled softly. The confirmation of you staying with them caused Wilson to light up, desperate to make sure you were alright. And he did, forcing you too lounge on the arm chair that belonged to the diagnostician and carefully looking you over, a kiss placed on each scrape and bruise he found. Apparently there were quite a few on your lips...

You shivered in the breeze, folding the corner of the towel in the fabric already covering you in an attempt to keep it up. The warmth of the sun was minimal against your goosebump littered skin even as you stayed cozied up in your towel. Reaching for your bag, you let out a soft sigh, ready to brave the rocky climb up to the hotel. It wouldn't be too hard, simply annoying with the absence of good shoes; however, you were glad you were yet to trek up the mountain for the actual ceremony. Who knows how badly your feet would ache after that.

A pair of warm eyes seemed to burn into your back, tracing each mole and freckle it could find as if it had seen them time and time again. Langdon had seen more of your skin than this, yet it seemed to feel like a distant memory. Each time you spoke was more clinical than the last, except for the night of the bachelorette party.

The two of you had shared more than just hushed words and soft kisses, but rather tender moments of intimacy shrouded in the light of the moon on this very beach. Hands rushed to claim what was once theirs, lips chasing that missing warmth. He shook away the thoughts. Everyone knew of his betrayal to you. The promise he broke one year ago when word spread of his substance abuse within the ER. You were unfortunate enough to find out on the night shift after passing Robby, his disappointed and furious aura had you second guessing clocking in. After growing up around a family that struggled with addiction, you could not see your lover fail to recognise his own patterns and so you left.

Yet, here you both were.

Your eyes locked as you turned, a sudden hitch of breath caught in your throat beneath a vomit of words. "Langdon..." You hummed his name as if it was something you had done your whole life, gentle and sweet like honey. For a moment it felt like nothing had changed, especially when that comfortable smile spread across his face. And, in this moment, you wanted nothing more than for it to be the way it was.

He spoke your name with a comfort you had not felt in months. His steps left prints of his sandaled feet reaching you. Langdon reached a calloused hand out, the warmth of his palm kissing your cheek as his thumb brushed your lips. You went to speak but words failed when you needed them most.

"Don't. I don't need to hear your disappointment and shame." Frank spoke with a certain calm sternness that sent a shiver down your spine. "I know my faults, I know you can't forgive me and I'm not asking you to forget forever... But just for the week." Those damned eyes that held you like a chain. How could you even think of denying him when he looked so pathetic, grovelling for you as if he didn't have you all to himself mere nights ago.