Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

I'm So Glad You're Here Part Two-July 1921

When Richard opened the door to his room he saw Clara sitting cross-legged on the bed, gun in her lap, the way she usually sat up with a book at night when he would come home. On the floor next to the desk, Tommy was sound asleep in the moonlight, on a pallet Clara must have made out of her pillow and extra blankets.

Clara smiled as he approached her, "I'm so glad you're here."

He sat on the bed next to her, looking down at his hands. The tiredness was washing over him, making it almost impossible to think clearly. The last time he slept was the morning he found out Angela was dead. Slowly he became aware of the feeling of Clara's fingers-warm, alive, moving-pressing against his.

"Jimmy is. Going to be. Okay." I cleaned his father's blood from the drawing-room, Richard thought. Once more in these days, I cleaned the blood of Jimmy's family member from the floorboards. There's no trace left. I cleaned the scissors you used. He looked at her small hand, and tried to imagine it plunging scissors into an old man's body. The hands that had tucked Tommy in, that slid into his, that typed out her stories.

He was a hypocrite, he realized. What did his hands do when he was away from Clara?

Clara nodded. "Good. Tommy thinks this is great fun, spending the night at your place."

Richard shook his head. "You should. Put him in bed. With you. I'll sleep on the. Floor."

"He's little, sleeping on the floor is an adventure. Besides, I..." She stared into the distance. "We just got each other back, and had maybe ten minutes of just being together. My friend is dead. Jimmy is injured. Everything is crashing down around us. I did a horrible thing to protect Jimmy and Tommy. You've been awake from days trying to protect Jimmy, I..."

Richard leaned against her. He couldn't remember the last time his brain had been so foggy, France, he supposed. Thoughts came into view and then disappeared just as quickly before he could grasp onto them. The silk of Clara's kimono brushed against his forearm. Her hair was slightly damp, and he could smell her orange soap. Her hands weren't as soft as usual, and he could see redness on the tops. She'd scrubbed them raw in an attempt to get the blood out, he thought and ran his thumb over them. He wanted to tell her so many things, but his mind wouldn't send the words to his mouth.

Clara had untied one boot and was busy on the second when he realized she had moved to the floor.

He jerked his foot away from her hand. "Mmm. What are. You doing?"

With one movement she moved so she was standing on her knees. "Richard," she said softly, "you've spent the last however many days taking care of everyone. Cleaning up Jimmy's mess. Keeping us safe. And now you can barely sit up you are so tired. Let me take care of you."

Richard shook his head, his mouth twisting, not able to meet her gaze, but finally letting his hands rest on her shoulders. "Mmm. You don't have..."

"No. I don't have to. I want to. You didn't have to do any of the things you did, tonight, yesterday, last week, this month, since the day you met Jimmy, either. You did it because you care about us, because you love us. " Clara reached up with one hand to cup his face, to pull him down so that he had to look at her, while her other hand smoothed the silk of her kimono as she tried to steady her nerves.

"I didn't think I would get this. I thought I'd spend my life would be trapped with someone like Darcy Blaine. Darcy, someone like Darcy, would have never helped me keep Tommy safe. I thought I had lost you, lost this, forever over my father and Jimmy's stupid war. Until you stood in my father's house and held your hand out to me."

Clara was silent for a moment, and she looked down like she was studying his knee. She spoke without looking up. "That moment meant I'm yours until the moment you decide you no longer want me."