Work Text:
No Right Words
by Lady Taevyn
Jim had a lot of regrets in his life; from the lack of relationship with his father and brother, to the loss of his men in the jungle. The one thing he would never regret was meeting Blair. In the years that had passed since he'd moved into the loft Jim had learned more about himself then he ever thought possible. Granted they fought (Megan would say like an old married couple; Simon likened them to cats and dogs), but they always came together in the end. That's why this latest argument was sitting so heavily on the detective's mind. It had, once again, been about the dissertation; Jim wished some days that that whole fiasco would just fade away like a bad dream. This fight felt different somehow. Blair was giving up, and that above all else was the most telling. Jim had to say the right thing, or he'd
lose his best friend. The younger man had gone to his room after dinner, the same as he'd done almost every night for the past few weeks; most likely to meditate. For two hours Jim sat on the sofa trying to work out the `right thing' and then to screw up the courage to just go and say it. Maybe there were no words. As darkness descended on the loft the regret gathered thick and fast in Jim's throat making it almost impossible to breathe.
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