Page 61 of Phoenix Rising

Lucinda's moans were barely contained by her palm, but Becky couldn't care less. Let someone walk in on them. Let them find out that Becky wanted to worship this woman until her final days. Which could very well be today. But she didn't want to think about that. The very thought fueled Becky with an endless hunger for Lucinda's taste on her tongue. Becky's hand fucked her until Lucinda's walls constricted around her fingers and she came hard and fast. Lucinda's hands were knotted in Becky's hair as she finally came up for air.

Lucinda's bare chest heaved, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks flushed pink. Becky was stunned. Because in that moment, the words that had been threatening to spill came to mind. She held her tongue; she couldn't risk it.

Instead, she said, "God, you're beautiful." Becky stood, kissing Lucinda lightly on the mouth.

Becky gathered Lucinda's scattered clothes and helped her get dressed. Lucinda's eyelids drooped as Becky finished reassembling her own clothes.

"I want to go home." Lucinda sighed, wiping her eyes.

Was she crying? The thought startled Becky. She had never seen Lucinda crack under pressure before.

"Hey, hey." Becky pulled Lucinda into a hug. "It'll be okay. We just have to hold on a little longer. I'll get you home, I promise."

Lucinda sobbed into Becky's shirt as Becky whispered sweet-nothings in her ear.

"Don't leave me," Lucinda whimpered.

Becky felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. She held Lucinda tightly, her arms wrapped securely around her as Lucinda sobbed. The sound of her quiet crying tugged at Becky’s heart, making it ache in ways she hadn’t expected. She had seen Lucinda under immense pressure before—during intense surgeries, through moments of heartbreak and loss—but this was different. Lucinda wasn’t just tired; she was breaking.

Becky stroked Lucinda’s hair, pressing her lips to the top of her head. She could feel Lucinda trembling, and it broke her to see the woman who was always so strong, always so composed fall apart in her arms.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Becky whispered softly into Lucinda’s hair. “I’ve got you, Lucinda. I’m right here.”

Lucinda clung to Becky like she was afraid to let go, her fingers gripping the fabric of Becky’s uniform tightly, almost desperately. For a moment, Becky let herself just hold her, absorbing the weight of Lucinda’s emotions, feeling the rise and fall of her sobs as they began to slow. The room was quiet except for Lucinda’s ragged breathing and Becky’s soft words of reassurance.

It wasn’t often that Becky let herself be this vulnerable, even with Lucinda. She was used to being the rock, the strong one, the person who held everything together. But seeing Lucinda like this—broken, fragile—made her realize how much she needed to let Lucinda see her too. They had been through so much together and weathered so many storms, but this moment felt like something else entirely. It felt like the start of something new, something raw and real that they hadn’t allowed themselves to explore before.

When Lucinda finally pulled back, her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were streaked with tears. She looked up at Becky, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just looked at each other, the weight of everything they had been holding back pressing down on them.

“I’m sorry,” Lucinda whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. “I don’t know why I’m like this. I just…I don’t know if I can keep holding it all together anymore.”

Becky shook her head, brushing a thumb gently across Lucinda’s cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re allowed to break sometimes. You don’t always have to be the strong one.”

Lucinda’s lips quivered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears again. “But I do. I always have to be the one who holds it together. For my patients, for my team…for you.”

“You don’t,” Becky said softly, her voice steady and reassuring. “Not with me. You don’t have to pretend, Lucinda. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Lucinda exhaled a shaky breath, leaning into Becky’s touch. “I’m so tired, Becky.”

“I know,” Becky murmured, pulling her closer again. “We’ll get through this together. Okay?"

For a while, they just sat there, huddled together on the cold floor of the storage room, the weight of the world outside the door temporarily forgotten. The storm may have passed, but its effects lingered in the air, and the exhaustion of everything they had been through had taken itstoll on both of them. But in this moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they had each other.

Eventually, Lucinda wiped her face, sniffling as she tried to regain some semblance of composure. “I feel ridiculous,” she admitted, her voice still a little wobbly.

“You’re not ridiculous,” Becky said gently, offering her a small smile. “You’re human.”

Lucinda chuckled weakly, shaking her head. “I don’t feel very human right now.”

“Well,” Becky said, brushing a strand of hair behind Lucinda’s ear, “lucky for you, you’ve got someone who thinks you’re pretty damn incredible, human or not.”

Lucinda looked up at her, her eyes searching Becky’s face for something—reassurance, understanding, maybe even forgiveness for letting herself fall apart. Whatever it was, Becky was determined to give it to her.

“You’re not alone, ” Becky repeated softly. “Not anymore.”

Lucinda nodded slowly, her fingers still gripping Becky’s shirt, though not as tightly as before. “Okay."

Lucinda leaned into her again, her bodyrelaxing slightly as Becky’s words seemed to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. They sat in silence for a while longer, the quiet of the room broken only by the distant hum of the EOC beyond the door. Outside, the city was still recovering from the storm, but inside this small room, Becky felt like they had created a bubble, a safe space where nothing else mattered except the two of them.

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