It had been Hell.
The pats on the back had taken her off guard. She hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Not really. The other five Judges were gone. They died for nothing. For some sham of a mission. Lured out into the cosmos because some psycho wanted a psi. Anderson should have never stepped foot on his ship. The guilt was unbearable.
A year had passed since she’d been gone. A whole year. Anderson herself had been assumed dead. That just made it worse. The blonde loitered by Joe’s apartment. Just waiting for him to waltz back on home after his shift. It was probably a long one, too. She remembered how they would sync their shifts. Work side by side sometimes. Seemed like ages ago.
Ah. There as that familiar thudding of heavy boots. The old law dog was down the hall. Inwardly, Anderson sighed; She had to face him sooner or later. Maybe he was expecting her to show up tonight. It used to be somewhat of a routine before she left on her expedition.
Her lips parted but she couldn’t speak. She felt like a coward. Eyes watered like they always did when she was overwhelmed with emotion. Fear, excitement, love, guilt. Finally she just wrapped her arms around him from behind pulling his back flush against her small chest. She buried her face in the his neck and closed her eyes tight.
@judgedeadpan
It was easy enough to return to old habits; new ones often fizzled out when time dragged on. Double shifts, sleep machine, maybe stop home every now and then to make sure his landlady knew he wasn’t dead… rinse and repeat. There was comfort in the familiarity of the routine, reaching back years and years to when he’d only relied on the boots on his feet and the gun at his thigh.
Some things didn’t shake so easily, though.
Dredd had heard through locker room gossip a week ago that she was back in the city. “Back”, as in “alive”, as in the last twelve months of wiping every last trace of that aching sensation in his chest hadn’t meant a thing. He’d been avoiding her on purpose, hoping perhaps she’d leave him to stew in bottled up anger and what scraps of grief he hadn’t managed to shake. Whatever they had between them she was more importantly his friend, his partner… and losing her the first time around had already solidified the fact that he had gone soft with her at his side on the streets. It was a weakness, and his lapse in judgement had cost him when she had been wiped out of his life completely.
The moment he stepped into the elevator he knew she was here; there was the faintest whiff of her shampoo still lingering in the air. He tightened his jaw, drawing a steady breath. Sooner or later he was going to have to get this part over with.
He reached his door and was about to key his pass code when he heard the soft scuff of a boot that heralded her arrival. His spine went rigid at her touch, muscles stiffening on reflex. A low grunt sounded deep in his chest, but Dredd willed himself not to turn and look at her. If he opened himself so easily again somehow he felt it could only invite disaster.
“Anderson.”
@judge-c-anderson
Green gloves tightened their hold on the leather. She palmed his chest and in an instant remembered what it had felt like falling asleep against it. This bitter reunion was everything she expected. It still felt good to feel him again, despite how he reacted. It didn’t matter that he stood there angry and tense. Cass couldn’t blame him. The tip of her nose brushed against the collar of his uniform.
Like before words weren’t useful here. Actions spoke louder. She sighed, her chest rose and settled against him easily. She still fit perfectly against him. Did he notice that, too?
Out there lost in the stars she had thought about him. The job. The city. She fought every second of every minute she was kept prisoner. If only her telepathy had better mileage. She slowly released him from the embrace, but not before giving him a final squeeze. The psi didn’t give up out there so she sure as Hell wasn’t about to give up on them.
“Prisoner in my own home,” she replied a hushed tone.
@judgedeadpan
Another low grunt came from his throat, his eyes closing briefly behind his visor. He was tired right through his bones, his body craving a natural sleep cycle after weeks in and out of the machines... he did not have the patience or resolve for this delicate back and forth right now.
“I hope that’s not what you came here for,” he growled quietly, eyes flickering down to the mess of blonde hair behind his shoulder, “Because you’re going to be disappointed if it is.” He didn’t really believe that she’d be so callous, but it was easier for him to pretend she was so he could pull further back. It was a necessity, or at least he was telling himself that. The city required his focus, and he didn’t need anything but the knowledge that he was doing his job.
Dredd felt a soft stab of guilt for giving her the cold shoulder, but her sudden appearance had him too raw, still too open like a fresh wound. He had certainly wondered if she had taken the case just to spite him after their argument over it but... she couldn’t have known. She had probably done everything in her power to make it work, and yet it still hadn’t been enough.
The keypad beeped quietly under his fingertips, and the door to his apartment slid open. He shot a quick glance down the hall before he stepped inside, deliberately leaving the door open behind him.
He owed her this much, at least.
@judge-c-anderson
