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Always

a twist on a beloved tale // fanfiction

By Aubrey BerryPublished 2 years ago 17 min read
1
Always
Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

He sat down by her side, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the beeping of machines filling his ears. For the first time in two months he wished he weren’t here. He wished this hadn’t fallen to him. He wished this hadn’t happened to her. He wished a lot of things. But her father had already said his goodbyes, her mother standing by her bedside, tears streaming down her face. Ian shook his head and pushed yesterday from his mind. He took in the white walls of the hospital room, trying to grasp some sense of serenity. All those years wasted and now it comes to this. Ian looked back down to his partner. Pseudo-partner. Well, he was her pseudo-partner. A writer shadowing a homicide detective for research and she was the one who got hurt. Ian suddenly remembered the last time they were in the hospital together. It was a couple years ago. She had broken her ankle chasing after a suspect.

“That’ll teach you to run in heels,” he told her. “How is it that your ankle broke before the heels did?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’d like to see you run in heels and only break your ankle.”

“Are you insinuating that I would break more? My dear Detective, I can assure you I am an excellent walker in heels. How hard can running be?”

“You know, I don’t even want to know the story behind that one.”

“I did the ‘Walk a Mile in Her Shoes’ campaign last year.”

“Of course you did.”

“It’s good to have a celebrity participate.”

“Knight, you’re hardly a celebrity.”

“Pierce, you wound me.”

“Shut up, Knight, and tell me a story.”

“You know those are contradictory terms, right?”

“Knight,” she warned.

Ian chuckled. “You know, you’re kind of grumpy when you’re in pain.” She swatted his arm but grinned a little anyway. He considered it a victory. “Very well, what story would you like to hear?”

Coming back to himself, he looked back down at his partner. Over the last two months, he’d told her plenty of stories. He’d begun by telling her stories of a princess and a lowly bard and the many adventures this unlikely pair went on together. He’d envision her eye rolls at the cheesy parts just to make himself smile. There had been times when he’d gotten so wrapped up in the storytelling he’d forgotten she was asleep. That she most likely couldn’t even hear him. But it was when he moved on to telling her about the precinct’s latest cases that he found himself watching her closely, expecting her to open her eyes and suggest something, build theory with him like they always did. Morley and Turner, the other members of their team, were good detectives, but there was a reason Pierce was their leader. Ian pushed thoughts of the two detectives from his mind as well. They’d said their goodbyes this morning.

But there was one story Ian hadn’t told Kate Pierce. And now it was time.

“Hey Kate,” he whispered. “We’ve got time for one last story.” Ian sighed. “I don’t know where to begin. But there’s something I have to tell you. There’s a reason I once told you you were extraordinary. Well, more of a reason than the one I gave you the first time. You know, your dad told me yesterday how much a fan you are of my books.” Ian chuckled. “As if I didn’t already know. I think I only signed the one all those years ago, but I remember when you bought your first copy. And don’t start. I know how that sounds. But there’s something about you, Katherine Pierce-Knight, that leaves a mark on the people who see you. Shall I start at the beginning? It was ten years ago, at the start of my Marc Cross series.”

She normally came in with another woman, and by age difference and looks, Ian guessed it to be her mother. The two were a sight to see, skimming bookshelves, reading book jackets together, nodding or shaking their heads in unison. He remembered seeing them curl up on opposing couches, books in hand, and Ian watched as they began reading. After a few minutes they swapped books on some silent cue and started their process over. His heart skipped a beat when he saw his book in Kate’s hand. She passed it to her mother with a smile. It made it to the stack they took home.

He remembered the next time he saw her, too. It was a year later. She came with her mom again and they both went immediately to his shelf, pulling off copy after copy of his books, giggling like little schoolgirls. They immediately nestled up in their respective couches and each took a book. Ian kept his distance, hiding behind a nearby bookshelf, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave them completely. There was just something about that younger woman that drew him to her. She had a presence about her that made him stay. He wanted to learn more. So he hid, peeking through the bookshelves and trying to stay out of sight. A few minutes later, Ian heard the older woman say, “Katie, take a look at this one. I think you’ll like it better.”

He heard Katie’s soft reply, “I was just about to offer you this one anyway, Mom. It’s got a law feature to it.”

“Right, because I want to take my work home with me.”

“It’s better than taking home the real thing,” came Katie’s quick reply. Ian caught her teasing smile. “Seems like this guy does his research anyway, who knows, he might inspire you.”

“Katherine Pierce, I never…” But the mother succumbed to laughter, following her daughter’s lead. “I think you’ve read enough of this man,” she finally gasped out after their fit subsided.

“You started it,” Katie shot back, laughter still bubbling over. “But wait till I tell Dad that he isn’t the one who helps you break your cases anymore.”

“That’s it!” Her mother exclaimed, “Just for that, you only get to take one book home today. Then it’s back to college for you, young lady.”

He watched the two women walk away, arms wrapped around each other, still laughing about the private joke he’d overheard. He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips, though he’d never understand why his book being an inspiration would be a bad thing.

“I remember the third time I saw you, too,” Ian told her, pausing to look at the machines beside her bed. There was never a day he didn’t hope those machines would register a change in her vitals, signaling that she was waking up. He let his head drop in defeat. There was nothing more he wanted than to see her eyes flutter. They didn’t have much time left. “It was a few years later and while I was now an established author, midway through Marc Cross, I still roamed the bookcases on release day. Partly in hopes of seeing you. But when I did I almost passed you by. Everything about you had changed. You cut your hair, exchanging your long, flowing locks for a short bob cut.” Ian remembered the striking difference. The long hair she once wore, and now did again, softened her features. The cut she’d once had had defined her jawline, making her more severe. “But it wasn’t just the haircut that startled me,” he continued. “Your entire demeanor had changed. You stood rigid like you felt you might break any minute. Gone was the confident, laughing woman I’d once seen. You came in with your dad this time. And I wondered where your mom was. I guess that was when she’d gotten really sick and you thought she wasn’t going to make it. I remember you telling me that your mom is like your best friend. Even with my dysfunctional relationship with my mom, I can’t imagine a world without her. No wonder you came into the bookshop that day.”

He watched Kate and her father approach his book display, catching glimpses of them between signing autographs. He made his way closer, fully knowing that he was bordering on stalker behavior. But he shrugged mentally. As creepy as he felt, he knew there was something wrong with her. Call me crazy, he thought. Then he heard her.

“I want to read it.” Her voice was dead, expressionless. “We always read his books together.”

Her father sighed, then nodded. Apparently he wasn’t going to argue anymore. He picked up Ian’s book and looked at his daughter. “Alright, Katie. Come one.” He started off, but Katie stayed behind a moment longer. She ran a finger down one of the book’s spines before following her dad. They left the bookstore together. There was no giggling or embraces, no smiles, no inside joke. What had happened to her mother?

“Mr. Knight?” A man’s voice tore his gaze away from the place Kate had been standing. He was holding out Ian’s latest Marc Cross book.

“Yes, thank you,” Ian told the man. “What’s your name, sir?”

It was a week later when he saw her again, the night of the official book signing. He was sitting at the table, a pen in hand, and she was just another fan waiting for his autograph. At least, that’s what the scene described. But to Ian, the world had suddenly stopped. He was meeting this woman for the first time. He was able to take a closer look at her and it confirmed what he’d witnessed last week. She was sad. But he could also see the resolve in her eyes. She knew she was strong; she had to be or it would engulf her. Ian still didn’t know what it was, but he hoped it had nothing to do with her mother’s absence. And yet there was more. There was a pleading in her eyes for him to make it better.

Or maybe that was just his own hope talking. He didn’t know this woman, he only knew what he’d observed of her over the years. Hell, everything he thought he’d seen in her eyes was probably just his knight in shining armor complex rearing its head. But all Ian Knight knew was that he had one gift: words. And was going to use it.

Ian suddenly realized that Katie was holding out his latest book to him. He took it. “Hi,” he said. And then mentally cringed. Really? That’s the best you can do?

“Hi,” she answered back. Ian smiled. If there was one thing he could appreciate about this night, it would be this woman: the calm in the storm of squealing fans.

“To whom do I have the pleasure of making this out?”

“My name is Kate.” And that was it. He dipped is pen to the paper and prayed it came out right.

To Kate

“Experience is not what happens to you, it is what you do with what happens to you.”

Ian Knight

Normally, Ian closed the book and proceeded on with the next fan, but with Kate he wanted to see her reaction. So he just flipped the book around and watched her. Kate’s hand found her mouth as she tried to stifle a gasp. It took her a few moments to gather herself, but when she looked back into Ian’s eyes he knew he’d said the right thing. A small part of him relaxed in knowing he had helped even just a little bit.

“Thank you,” she whispered. And in her eyes he saw just how much she meant it.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. And then she was gone.

“And it was like you’d disappeared,” Ian told his sleeping wife. “I didn’t see you for years.” He chuckled. “Though I have to admit that our most memorable meeting was the night you pulled me in for questioning. I probably could have handled it better, but to be honest you took me off guard. And I didn’t want you to think of me as a creep for remembering you.” He was silent for a moment. “What do you think would have happened if that guy hadn’t based his murders after my books?”

It was years later, the Marc Cross series come and gone, when he saw her once again. Upon reflection, he thought it fitting they should meet at another book signing. Though, of course, this one was much larger than the last one. And on a boat.

“Mr. Knight?” She asked, standing behind him. He didn’t place her voice.

“Where would you like it?” He asked, swinging around, pen in hand. He stopped short when he realized who it was. Kate still had the short haircut, but her eyes no longer held the overwhelming sadness from before. Not at the surface anyway. It wouldn’t be till years later that he learned to read the emotion behind her eyes. No, all he could see was steel. And it wasn’t just her eyes that told him she wasn’t impressed by cocky display of, well, everything. He couldn’t blame her. Ian wasn’t such a big fan of the party his publisher had decided to throw. Gina and her publicity stunts. Ian knew it was one of the reasons he’d decided to kill off his main character. He was just bored with everything. He wanted something new, something unexpected in his life. Ian brought his mind back to the woman in front of him. Well this was certainly unexpected. He thought he’d never see her again. And every time he did she changed. It was like she was a mystery he would never be able to solve. He soon found out this time would be no different.

She held up her badge. “Detective Kate Pierce, NYPD. I need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight.”

“So you see, Kate? I remember all the days we met. And I didn’t want you to…well I just wanted you to know. It was the beginning of the end, wasn’t it?” He stroked her hair as he thought about what he wanted to say next. He’d told his story, but he still didn’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. “I remember everything. And you know what? I may not have gone to the bookstore to stalk my fans, but now that I’ve told you this I kind of feel like I used to stalk you. You know, maybe that’s why you’re always hyperaware whenever I watch you work. And while I hold true to my reasons, I understand now. It is kind of creepy.”

Ian smiled and gazed at the white walls of the hospital room around him, his mind faintly registering the still steady beeps of the monitor beside her, imagining her response.

Kind of creepy, Knight? You watch me do paperwork.

What can I say, Detective, I—

Nothing, Knight, there is absolutely nothing you can say to that. Not even all your vast arsenal of rapier wit could make you watching me work any less creepy.

Not even ‘I love you’?

Especially not ‘I love you.’ There would be a pause in which she still wouldn’t look up from her paperwork. Stop pouting, Knight.

But ‘I love you’ always works.

Which is why you can’t say it. She’d look up then, eyes sparking like they did before her mother got sick. Because those words tend to make everything better.

Ian looked back down at his partner, his best friend, his wife. “I remember the day I wheedled my way into shadowing you so that my creepiness would at least have a legal label on it. I just couldn’t get enough of you.” Ian smiled, wishing she were awake so she could roll her eyes at him for what he was about to say. “So how could I not base my next book series on you? Granted, it’s you that made it into a series. I was just planning on one book. But what can I say? You’re extraordinary.”

Don’t say it, he could almost hear her silent warning. But he said it anyway, earning another imaginary eye roll. Only this time, he’d catch the slight turn of her mouth and the smile she’d try to hide.

“I choose my muses well.” But Ian let the lightness go as he continued rambling, unwilling to stop. “But it’s not just our meetings that I remember. It’s everything, Kate. I remember all our cases, how we built theory together, finishing each other’s sentences, leaving others in the dust as we found the connection together. I remember how for a few years timing never seemed to be right for us.

“I remember my miserable summer in the Hamptons when I left to try and let you go so you could be with Demming. Except you broke it off and tried to tell me too late. I remember coming home to find you with Motorcycle Boy. Excuse me,” he corrected with a smile, “Doctor Motorcycle Boy. I tried to move on, too, but I always came back to you.

“I remember the first time I told you ‘Always.’ I meant ‘I love you,’ but it was too soon for you to know. I remember the first time you told me ‘Always’ back. I wanted to kiss you right then and there, but I couldn’t. I’d forgotten how to breathe. I remember when I told you I loved you for real. But I still love the smile you give me when I tell you ‘Always’ best.” Ian sighed, his eyes finding the clock. Time. They were out of time. She’d kill him if she knew how long he’d held on to her.

“I remember what you said that day, what you told me as you laid there on the pavement, the blood slipping past my fingers. I remember. But that doesn’t make this any easier, Katie.” His voice broke and tears slipped down his face.

“It doesn’t help that the man who shot you is behind bars. It doesn’t help that we got the guy.” Ian knew he would never forgive himself for letting her split them up to try and corner their suspect, Ron Michaelson. If he’d been with her, maybe Michaelson wouldn’t have gotten her. His positive ID had put the man behind bars, but what difference did it make?

“You aren’t coming back. And it’s not fair that you’re the one who has to die, that I’m the one who has to pull the plug on you. Because I don’t want to give up. I want you here with me. But I love you. And it’s because I love you that I can’t be selfish with you. It won’t be enough, but I can live with the memories. At least we finally got to make them, right?”

Ian reached over and pressed the button to the ventilator as the nurse had taught him to do before he entered the room. “I love you, Kate. Always.” He turned the machine off before her heartbeat stopped so he wouldn’t have to hear the noise. He sat back down in his chair, held her hand, and watched her as he’d always done. He wasn’t a religious man, but he hoped this one prayer out of the thousands he’d sent up these last two months would reach God. All he wanted was for her to wake up. He closed his eyes and their final moments washed over him…

“Look at me, Ian,” she murmured. He watched in horror as blood trickled down the side of her mouth. He forced his eyes to meet hers. Kate closed her eyes against the pain, taking shallow breaths. He could tell she was fighting to keep conscious, to form words. He took her hand, his other pressing against the wound.

“Stay with me, Kate,” he repeated over and over. “Stay with me.”

“Always,” she managed, dragging her eyes open. Pain had glazed them over.

“No,” he said. “Don’t give up. You don’t get to give up.” He pressed his hand further against the bullet hole and she gasped.

“Ian.” It came out as a feeble whisper. What was he supposed to do without her? He knew his eyes asked his silent question. “Keep me close in your books,” she answered, a faint smile turning her lips. “But don’t forget to live.” She squeezed his hand and he watched as a tear fell from her eye. “I’ll always be with you.”

“Always?” He asked. She nodded and he leaned down and kissed her one last time.

“Always.” She was there for a moment longer and then her hand went slack in his.

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