Chapter Text
Regina’s looking at her phone again, her messages app specifically. It’s pretty empty, honestly, something she would’ve thrown a fit about in her youth, but now is just quietly sad about. Her most recent texts are from her mom and Shane, both of them wishing her a happy birthday, from three days ago. She’d smiled when they came through at breakfast before locking her phone again, trying to ignore the fact that her father hadn’t made an effort to reach out unlike her mom.
Now, she tries to imagine what he’d even say to her if he did text her, or call her. Would he ask about DC? Would he be disapproving of her reassignment to the Warehouse, something she wouldn’t even be able to explain? Would he make a comment about what happened in Afghanistan? That was the last time they properly spoke, when she was fresh out of surgery after the IED and he told her he was disappointed in her actions.
“You should’ve been more careful,” he said firmly. There were no well wishes, no concern, only dismay. She remembers being so drunk on pain meds and grief that she couldn’t even respond, simply hanging up on him for the first and last time. She could’ve died, but all he could focus on was the mistake.
On brand.
She taps her nails against the back of her phone, biting her lip as she considers that time of her life.
Honorably discharged from the Marines and going through the slog that was recovering from an SCI and PTSD, not to mention dealing with the grief and depression that came with knowing she’d caused so much death, her days were spent in therapy, be it physical or mental, or she was just struggling to reassimilate into life in America. No friends, no contact with family, and the only person she could depend on was suffering under the weight of new disabilities.
She was woefully alone.
It was, by far, her rock bottom.
She blinks a few times to refocus her eyes when she hears someone stomping down the aisle behind her. Only one person walks with such heavy footsteps around the Warehouse, and when she looks, she sees Janis dance-walking through the main aisle, headphones in, bopping to whatever music she is playing instead of actually doing inventory like they’re meant to be.
Regina watches her with mild amusement, even if her expression is still wistful, and she raises an eyebrow as Janis does a dramatic spin and promptly fumbles with her tablet when she notices Regina standing in the aisle she was about to go down.
“Uh, hi,” Janis greets, plucking her earbuds out with a hooked finger as she approaches a little sheepishly, probably surprised to have been caught slacking. There’s a moment where neither says anything, Regina falling back into her thoughts, until Janis says, “Alright, what’s wrong? You look like someone killed your cat.”
“My cat?” Regina gives her a strange look. “I don’t have a cat.”
“Dunno; you seem like a cat person.” Janis shrugs and sets her tablet on the shelf beside her, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one foot. “So what’s up? You’re just kinda staring at me with this really weird look that screams ‘talk to me, I’m dead inside.”
Regina puffs her cheeks out and then lets go of the air, the ever present crease between her brows growing more prominent as she switches her gaze to the shelf where Janis had set her tablet down. “Just doing some thinking.”
“Can I ask about what?” Janis prompts.
There’s a pregnant pause where Regina considers not telling Janis, but they’re partners, and there’s no reason to not tell her about why she’s sad. They’ve tread close to the line of digging deeper into one another’s pasts since starting at the Warehouse, but nothing has ever really crossed into that territory… until now.
She figures she can give her some of the surface-level details, at least for now. Maybe, once they’re closer, she’ll say more on it, but not right now.
“It was my birthday on the 10th and my dad didn’t text me,” she admits, immediately feeling a little stupid as soon as the words fall from her lips. How childish is it of her to be sad about the fact that her dad didn’t text her to wish her a happy birthday? Sure, she texts him on his birthday, but that doesn’t mean she’s given the same respect in return. “God, this is dumb. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not dumb,” Janis says quietly, reaching out to poke Regina’s shoulder and get her attention. When she doesn’t look up, she pokes her again. “Hey, look at me.” She waits, and finally, Regina does switch her gaze to Janis’ earnest brown eyes. “It’s not dumb.”
“Okay,” she replies. Her phone slaps uselessly against her thigh as she lets go of the tension in her arms, taking another deep breath as she stares straight ahead. “He hasn't talked to me since 2015; I don’t know why I’m so torn up about it.”
“He’s your dad.”
Regina shrugs.
Another few moments of silence builds between them where Regina wonders if she’s just shared too much, but then Janis says:
“If I’d known it was your birthday, I would’ve gotten you something! Why didn’t you tell any of us?”
The topic change is welcome.
Regina snorts and shakes her head, tucking her phone away and beginning to play with her hands. “It slipped my mind until the morning of with the whirlwind that the past two weeks have been, and by then it felt a little late to mention it. Not like I’ve really celebrated my birthday since I turned eighteen.”
“Well, if it means anything, happy birthday from someone who does care about you.” Janis gives her a smile and reaches out like she’s gonna ruffle Regina’s hair, but she quickly ducks away with a warning look that only makes the brunette’s lips curl up further. “Worth a try.”
A laugh bubbles out of Regina’s throat, and she shakes her head at her partner’s silliness, amused and relieved that she was able to diffuse the tension in Regina so deftly. “Thank you,” she says softly. “It means a lot.”
They hold eye contact, neither wanting to glance away first. Janis has a genial smile on her face, sweetness bleeding from her eyes as she looks at Regina differently than any other person has before. She feels heat crawling up the back of her neck at the sheer amount of attention being paid to her, and a smile spreads unbidden on her lips at how good it feels to be the focus of this other woman’s eyes, if even for such a short moment.
Of course, it can’t last.
Above them, an intercom crackles to life, and Janis takes a step back and turns to the shelf where she’d set her tablet down while Regina coughs and looks away, the flush in her neck spreading to her cheeks as Norbury’s voice fills the aisle:
“If you ladies aren’t busy, we have a ping. Get up to the office, ASAP.”
“Duty calls,” Regina says a little regretfully, wanting to return to their little moment. She clears her throat and jerks her thumb in the direction of the office.
Janis laughs and they make their way back to the office in comfortable silence, shoulders bumping and secret looks shared as they go.
***
“Glad you could finally join us.”
Janis snorts as she holds the door open for Regina to enter, eyes trailing her body as she passes before she steps into the office as well. “We didn’t think running from our position to here would be a good use of energy.”
The office is cleaner than it has been in awhile, and most of that can probably be attributed to Cady. Ever since being offered a job as a consultant to the Warehouse, she’s been fixing up things here and there, and it seems she’s found a new purpose for herself under Norbury’s guidance. Her presence has been refreshing, and it’s certainly nice to have an extra pair of hands around the Warehouse in case others are occupied.
Speaking of Cady, she’s holding two files and rocking on her feet where she’s stood beside Norbury’s chair. She holds them both out to the agents as they approach, offering a small smile and a nod before perching on the edge of the desk and settling in as Norbury turns in her chair and begins speaking:
“This afternoon in Toronto, Canada two perfectly healthy teen girls were rushed to the hospital, one suffering from a stroke and the other from a heart attack.” She pauses, allowing the agents to digest the information, before continuing, “The victim of the stroke lost function of her lungs and died en route to the hospital while the one who had a heart attack is currently in recovery.”
“Perfectly healthy people don’t just have strokes and heart attacks, Norbury,” Regina notes. “Were they fast food addicts or something?”
“If that was the case, I would’ve been dead by college,” Janis mumbles.
“I’d practice your sympathy before you meet with these girls’ parents, agents,” Norbury scolds. They both share a glance before looking back down at the files, thoroughly chastised as they mutter apologies. “Like you said, perfectly healthy people don’t just drop dead, so you’re both going to Toronto to check it out.”
Regina flips the file shut and tucks it under her arm so she can clasp her hands in front of her, eyeing Norbury a little skeptically. “How do you know these girls were actually healthy and this wasn’t just caused by something else?”
“Medical records,” Norbury says blandly. “None of the documentation we have points to anything conclusive. The Warehouse system recognized it as strange, so you’re going,” she continues as if she’s telling Regina the sky’s blue.
“Uh-huh?” Regina’s eyes tighten around the edges.
“Listen-” Norbury stands up and approaches Regina, rubbing her hands together as she takes a few slow steps towards the blonde- “you’ve been on several missions by now, and you haven’t had issues following those leads.”
“Because those leads were things like bodies showing up with snapped necks and no blood, not just a heart attack and stroke. People have those every day.” Regina crosses her arms, and Janis wonders why she’s being so defensive, even if she does understand where she’s coming from.
“The Warehouse system doesn’t do false positives, and it’s never been wrong since it was implemented. Everything in this place is as functional as it gets,” Norbury assures.
And it’s at that moment that the lights in the office flicker, spark, and then go out.
Janis snorts at the irony, even as she reaches to the side to get a grip on Regina’s shoulder to orient herself in the space. “As functional as it gets, huh, Norbury?”
“Cady, can you-?”
“Already on it.”
Light footsteps walk around the desk, and then there’s a loud, metallic noise as Cady does… something in the office, Janis can’t quite see since the lights are out. There’s a few moments where they all stand in the darkness, silent, and then there’s a triumphant noise from Cady and the lights flicker back on with a gentle hum.
“Care to explain that?” Regina asks.
Norbury gives her a disgruntled look as she sits back down and rubs over her brow. “We’ve been having random power outages the past few days. Cady’s always able to fix it, but we can’t find the source.” Regina, smug, opens her mouth to probably make another teasing remark, but Norbury simply holds up one hand and points at the door to the Umbilicus with the other. “No more arguing. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning, 7AM sharp, so I’d get packing if I were you.” She turns in her chair to face the laptop, waving a dismissive hand at them. “Now, begone.”
“Yes ma’am,” they chorus, offering a quick goodbye wave to Cady before exiting the Warehouse.
***
At this point, having spent over a month with the Warehouse, neither of them are even phased by the lack of amenities in their hotel rooms anymore. So long as the water isn’t brown, their room service is paid for, and there isn’t a dead body in the mattress, the two of them have no complaints.
Granted, in all of their previous rooms, there were at least two beds.
“Wow, they’re really skimping on costs now,” Janis grumbles, setting her luggage at the foot of the bed and then flopping face first on the single, queen sized bed in the center of the room. She couldn’t care less about the prospect of sharing a bed with Regina at this moment, mostly because -- due to a wailing child behind them on the plane -- neither had gotten any shut-eye on the flight.
Regina seems a little more trepidatious, perhaps simply more cognizant of the implications given her wakefulness. She finds, after a few moments of thinking, that she’s not uncomfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with her partner, but there’s an anxious fluttering in her gut despite this. Hesitant, she sits down and scoots up to sit against the headboard, phone in hand, figuring they can take a few minutes to decompress before working out dinner arrangements and the plan for tomorrow’s artifact hunting.
Inexplicably, she ends up staring at her father’s contact, thumb hovering over the screen to refresh it each time it dims. Her brows draw together and she purses her lips, wondering how he’d react if she reached out first. Maybe he wouldn’t even respond if she did, or maybe he’d call her and tell her exactly how badly she fucked up.
“You’ve got that look on your face again,” Janis says, interrupting her internal self-loathing. She’s moved onto her side, one arm folded under her head while the other remains draped over her waist.
“What look on my face?” Regina asks. She puts her phone face down on the bedspread and lets her hands fall limply into her lap, fiddling with her fingers.
Janis shrugs and says, “The one you had in the Warehouse when you were telling me about your dad.”
“Well, I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask if you were fine,” Janis points out quietly, finally sitting up and moving so she’s against the headboard too. She observes Regina closely, trying to see beyond the mask she’s wearing.
Regina huffs out a laugh, her eyes off to the side to avoid Janis’ piercing gaze. She feels embarrassed that she’s still so hung up. It’s never hurt like this before, but with Janis right next to her, a warm presence who she sees day in and day out, who she knows cares about her, she’s realizing that her dad really doesn’t care about her, and that’s the worst part. There was never a point to compare him to before, but now…
She swallows hard and looks down at her hands, sniffling.
“Regina?” Janis says softly, nudging their shoulders together. She waits until her partner looks up at her, eyes a little teary, before asking, “Why doesn’t your dad talk to you anymore?”
Regina exhales loudly, a wry smile quirking her lips before it drops into an anxious frown. “There was an… incident,” she whispers. “In 2015, when I was still- still in the Marines.”
“What kind of incident?” Janis asks.
“The incident itself isn’t important,” Regina rushes out all in one breath, reluctant to go into detail about what, exactly, happened. She can tell Janis about her dad, that much is okay, but the last thing she wants is for Janis’ opinion of her to drop once she learns what happened when she was in Afghanistan, the circumstances of her discharge. She sniffs again, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to dab at her eyes. “When my dad found out what happened, he called me, and I was in the hospital, high as a kite and fresh from surgery-” her words choke out and she clears her throat, her face pinching a little as she gets a faraway look in her eyes. “He called to tell me that he was disappointed in me.”
“That’s shitty,” Janis mumbles, holding her tongue so she doesn’t pry too much further, even if she is curious. She doesn’t know what to do to comfort Regina, whose bottom lip is beginning to visibly tremble, so she simply rests her hand face up on her thigh, an invitation. “No one should have to hear that from their father.”
Regina looks down at the offering with glassy eyes before her hand reaches out tentatively. They both hold their breath as Regina rests her palm against Janis’, letting their fingers lace together naturally.
Janis squeezes.
“I hung up on him, and he hasn't spoken to me since,” Regina confesses.
“I know the feeling,” Janis mumbles. “Not that my dad ever did much talking.”
“Quiet man?” Regina jokes.
Janis snorts. “You have no idea.”
“Does it…” Regina starts before trailing off, looking a little pained. She shifts on the bed and blinks a few times, releasing a breath. “Does it hurt? That your dad doesn’t talk to you?”
“Sometimes,” Janis admits. “But I think it’s ultimately best for both of us.”
“Why’s that?”
Janis takes a deep breath of her own, flicking her tongue out to wet her lips before saying, “There’s no point in trying to talk if he still resents me for what I did.” She looks straight ahead, but she can feel Regina’s eyes on the side of her face. “It’s not really productive, y’know, to continuously be reminded of your mistakes by the person who’s supposed to love you.”
“I think we have more in common than we first thought,” Regina says softly.
“Daddy issues gang!” Janis jokes, eliciting laughs from both of them. The solemn atmosphere from their conversation lightens, though Janis does squeeze Regina’s hand one more time to get her attention. “Do you feel better?” she asks.
“You’ve given me a… new perspective, I guess. Thank you,” Regina replies. She looks down at their linked hands, the way they fit together, and that anxious flutter returns to her stomach. Her throat bobs uncertainly before she moves to change the subject. “Dinner?”
“Please, I’m fucking starving. Airplane pretzels can only tide me over for so long.”
Regina can only snort and shake her head before grabbing the room service menu and beginning to go down the list.
Dinner is ordered and consumed in no time at all it seems, and by then, they’re both ready for bed. They easily move through their nightly routines, both of them showering off the airplane funk before brushing their teeth and shuffling back out into the bedroom. There’s a moment of silence, both of them standing in their pajamas staring at the bed, before Regina says:
“I sleep on the left side.”
“Somehow, I knew you were picky about what side of the bed you slept on,” Janis mumbles, shaking her head fondly as she dutifully pulls back the covers on the right side of the bed and slides in. She turns over to watch as Regina does the same, settling in on her back and looking at her expectantly. Janis raises an eyebrow at her. “What? Do you want a goodnight kiss or something?”
Regina’s cheeks darken, and Janis can’t help but think about how cute she looks without all of her makeup. She has freckles just across the bridge of her nose, but then she’s speaking and Janis is pulled out of her thoughts.
“You’re the one next to the lamp. You have to turn it off,” Regina replies.
“Oh!” Janis gives her a sheepish look before twisting to turn the lamp off, the room falling into darkness. She settles back against the pillows on her side, facing away from Regina with one arm beneath the pillow.
It’s strange for both of them, that’s for sure. Neither has shared a bed in… several years, probably. At least, not under circumstances where they weren’t inebriated or a little shameful after a desperate hookup. They both try not to breathe too loudly or move too much, not wanting to disturb the other, and, eventually, they drift off, the tension in their bodies loosening until they’ve melted into the mattress, unaware but ready to face the morning together.