005 Seeking Solace - One Hundred Reasons

[musicalluna]

Title: 005 Seeking Solace - One Hundred Reasons
Fandom: Psych
Author: MusicalLuna
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Lassiter/Polly
Genre: Fluff, Drama
Warnings: Violence?
Complete: Yes
Summary: One of my responses for my 100 themes collection revolving around Lassiter and Polly.
A/N: You have windscryer to thank for the main "plot point" of this ficlet. XD
Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or it's characters.

 

“I still don’t see why I couldn’t drive,” Carlton said sulkily, his arms crossed as he stared out the front windshield of the car.

Polly grinned, sparing a quick glance for him out of the corner of her eye. “It’s not that you can’t drive, Detective, it’s that I want to drive.”

He shot her a dirty look out of the corner of his own eye. It wasn’t fair that she knew him so well. And even less fair that he was consistently flattered by her use of his title as a pet name. Opening his mouth to retort, movement caught his peripheral vision, but it was already too late.

Glass exploded inward as his window shattered into thousands of tiny shards, his body jerking hard to the right and the seatbelt pulling excruciatingly tight. White hot pain erupted at his hairline, hot and wet, and his gut twisted in horror at the sound of Polly screaming. The screeching roar of the impact faded just slightly slower than it had begun as they skidded to a stop and Carlton could feel the heat from the grille of the truck pressed up against his door on his face. For just a moment, he didn’t move, the world weaving before his gaze.

Beside him, Polly shook with sobs, her hands clenched white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “C—Ca—Carlton? Carlton? C—Carlton, are you—” A sob caught in her throat and her hands came free of the steering wheel, her body pivoting as she reached for him.

Every police officer’s bone in his body wanted to demand that she stay still, wait for the paramedics, but one look at her face, tears streaming down her cheeks and her hands trembling as they reached for him and those bones took a back seat.

He wrapped one hand around hers, the other moving to cup her jaw, holding her face inches from his own. “Hey. Breathe,” he said sternly. “Take a deep breath, and relax. I’m fine.” Skimming his eyes over her body, Carlton took a moment to make sure that she wasn’t injured. He was grateful that he’d taken the brunt of the collision. The tears and her trembling hands appeared to be the worst of it, though he knew some nasty bruises would probably pop up where her seatbelt had borne down.

“Y—you’re bleeding,” she choked, fear thick in her voice.

He raised an eyebrow, ignoring a twinge of pain and the feeling of sticky warmth oozing down his cheek. “This? I’ve had far worse than this little thing, Polly.”

“Bu—but there’s glass—”

He grimaced, realizing there must be a chunk of the window wedged in his scalp. He shrugged and had to hide a wince as something in his shoulder flared with pain at the movement. “It’s okay. Nothing a few stitches can’t fix.”

She sniffled, but the harsh sobs had stopped, the hand not clutched in his tangled tightly into the shirt at his waist. “Are you sure?”

Carlton kissed her, gently and deliberately. “Yes. Now stop worrying. The paramedics will be here any second.”

She bit her lip, glassy eyes fixed intently on his and when she seemed to find what she was looking for, her head came down, moving to rest on his shoulder. Slowly, and much more quietly than before, she began crying, tears dripping from her face and soaking into his shirt. His features twisted and he moved his arm around her, squeezing gently.

He wanted to do so much more (like punch the asshole who had slammed into them) but if this was what she needed from him, then he would do it.