Work Header

Fools Rush In

Work Text:

He did it again today.

Saved my life again.

It's something he's been having to do a lot lately. Not sure why. Not that I wonder why he's been making the effort. I mean, we're partners, and it's part of the job.

No. What's bothering me is why he's having to. Why I can't seem to take care of myself anymore.

It never used to be like this. When I was in the Navy I didn't need anybody to watch my back, and everyone knew better than to try. But then I didn't have a partner, and didn't much care whether I lived or died.

What's the old saying? God protects fools and children, or something. I can't remember. Never did take much notice of religion. How can I, after everything I've seen?

A fool.

Yep, that's me.

I'd volunteer for suicide missions that even my commanding officers didn't want me to go on, just to prove that I could.

I couldn't save my wife, or my father, but I could complete suicide missions without breaking a sweat. In my more honest moments, I've never quite been sure whether I volunteered because I wanted to die, or to prove that I wouldn't.

I think I'd rather not know.

But the years passed, and their deaths became easier to live with. And I put the suicide missions behind me.

Then I met Sam, got myself a partner. It was hard at first. I was so used to flying solo, relying on no-one but me. And it didn't matter if everything went wrong, because it was only my life at risk, and that's not really worth much.

But now Sam's there, right beside me. Rushing in when he knows we should hold back, because I'm going in anyway, and he doesn't want to leave me alone. So I'm risking both our lives instead of just one, and that terrifies me, but I can't seem to stop.

He's so good. So damn perfect at his job - calm in a crisis, never lets emotion carry him too far - the living embodiment of the first rule. All the things a CI5 agent is supposed to be, and all the things that I'm not.

I'm trying to live up to him, prove myself worthy to be his partner, but as usual I'm pushing things too far, and he's having to step in to save me, as always.

I see the question in his eyes a thousand times a day. 'Why are you rushing in?' 'What's making you push yourself?' He's desperate to ask the question, and I'm desperate to give him the answer.

He doesn't know about Teresa, you see.

And I don't know if I can ever tell him.