Chapter Text
It wasn’t as though there was a singular moment pinpointing when Caitlin and Mitch moved in together. In fact, officially speaking, they hadn’t.
Mitch still had his apartment, but considering he spent ninety five percent of his free time at Caitlin’s, anyway, and following a somewhat awkward encounter when both him and John thought the other was out, and invited over their respective girlfriends (and ending with Naomi walking in on her once-mentor being undressed on the sofa), they’d fallen into a natural pattern of Mitch staying at Caitlin’s. And suddenly it was a week, two weeks, a month, half a year since he’d spent a night without her.
It didn’t happen all at once.
But there were two toothbrushes in the ceramic cup on the shelf under Caitlin’s bathroom mirror, Mitch’s favourite brand of coffee had its own space in the kitchen cupboard, and there was a knitted blanket sprawled across the back of the sofa that they always snuggled up under when neither had a hospital shift the next day; they’d fallen into a pattern of watching movies together, Caitlin’s head sleepily tucked into the crook of his neck, Mitch’s arm around her shoulder, gently stroking in small circles as he occasionally pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead.
There was a photo of Caitlin’s parents on their wedding day- one she’d had framed and kept by her bedside for fifteen years. Mitch had asked her about it once, tentatively telling her that they looked so happy, but not pressing the issue; not giving her the empty platitudes Caitlin had heard ever since they’d died that ‘they would be so proud of the person you’ve become, Caitlin’ or that she was ‘so brave for adopting her brother’.
The thing was, she didn’t have a choice. Not when it came to Kip. It wasn’t as though she’d been forced into adopting him. But in her mind- and maybe this was in part due to her black and white thinking about so many things and in part because of just how much she loved her little brother- there was never a choice about it.
Now, however, there was another photo next to the one of her parents. It was of her and Mitch, taken a few months ago in the summer. She generally considered herself to be quite camera shy, but they’d gone to Navy Pier together on one of the shifts off that they shared (despite once making the schedule in a way to avoid Mitch, she now tried to line up their time off together as much as possible), and whilst Mitch was busy taking photos of the view across the water, someone had offered to take a photo of the two of them.
The photo of them smiling and looking down the lens, however, wasn’t the one that Caitlin had had framed. It was one taken in the seconds after they’d initially posed, Mitch leaning over, wearing a light blue shirt and shorts, sneaking a kiss onto Caitlin’s temple. She’d scrunched up her nose in mock disapproval, her happiness given away by her sweet smile and the blush rising up her cheekbones, matching the floaty pink dress she’d been wearing that day.
She hadn’t made a big deal about framing that photo, and Mitch hadn’t mentioned it to her when he noticed it on the side a few days after it had been taken. But one day, it appeared in a wooden frame on her side of the bed (because yes, they had their own sides of the bed now) next to the photo of her parents. It made his heart sing every time he saw it.
The same could not be said for Caitlin’s reaction when she saw his lock screen one day; whereas Mitch knew his girlfriend shied away from anyone making a fuss about her rare shows of affection or vulnerability, Caitlin was always commenting on how corny her boyfriend was, and when she noticed that he’d changed his lock screen from the generic picture of outer-space that had come downloaded onto the phone to a photo of the two of them, she’d jumped on the opportunity to tease him; ‘You’re so corny, you know?’ She’d said. He’d rolled his eyes, replying with ‘I love you, too, Caitlin’.
Secretly, her heart leapt whenever his phone lit up, and she was met with a picture of the two of them at a fundraising gala for the hospital from a few months ago. They didn’t know it had been taken until Naomi sheepishly came up to them the next day, telling them that she’d been taking a photo and thought that they ‘looked really cute’ in the background, if they wanted a copy.
They were facing away from the camera, Mitch’s hand curled around her waist, but they were looking straight at each other: Caitlin talking animatedly about something, Mitch staring at her like she’d hung the moon, holding her champagne flute in his other hand.
Sometimes, when he’d left his phone out on her countertop, she would find herself tapping the dark screen as she passed, just to get it to light up so she could see the photo of the two of them. And she looked really good in that dark green dress.
They’d unintentionally slipped into their respective routines around each other, intertwining their lives with great ease. Caitlin had nagged her brother to give her her spare key back, after all he lived with Jemma now, but when Kip hadn’t bemoaned that he ‘couldn’t find it anywhere, Catie!’ She’d just got a new one cut for Mitch. It was somewhat futile, because there was rarely a moment when the two of them arrived at the apartment separately, but it symbolised something special for the two of them.
So, if you’d asked them when exactly they’d moved in together, Caitlin and Mitch wouldn’t be able to give you an answer. But their lives had become entwined slowly and then all at once, and neither would have it any other way.
Tonight, however, wasn’t as relaxed as normal, at least not when Mitch was woken up at 2 in the morning by a quiet whimper coming from his left. He knew that Caitlin had nightmares. God, who wouldn’t when they’d been through the trauma that she had? Her mother’s prion disease, and of course, Caitlin’s own diagnosis, her father’s suicide, her time in Afghanistan, being held at gunpoint in the Hybrid OR, then again in Faye and Devin’s basement… Mitch would be more surprised if she didn’t have a night of broken sleep every so often.
He couldn’t make out what she was saying, and she was facing away from him, curled in on herself. But he could see her hands white-fisting the sheets as she wriggled uncomfortably and small, feeble noises escaped her.
At first, he’d whispered her name to see if she was awake or if this was another one of her nightmares. Realising it was the latter, he’d slid over to her, not wanting to scare her with his unexpected touch but not wanting her to be alone. He hoped his presence would be enough.
It wasn’t, though, and after five minutes of her whimpering and tossing (five minutes in which Mitch felt as though his own heart was being ripped into pieces as he was rendered useless in protecting her from whatever terror she was seeing in her sleep), he’d placed a firm hand on her shoulder and gently shook her.
When it didn’t immediately work, he gripped slightly harder, applying pressure through his fingertips. ‘Caitlin? Caitlin, honey, everything is ok, you’re ok. Please wake-‘. And that finally seemed to be enough, because her eyes flew open, wide and frightened, tears wetting her eyelashes.
‘Oh, Caitlin.’ Murmured Mitch, reaching out to wrap his arms around her and pulling her against him so her curls were pressed into his face and he peppered the back of her head with kisses. She let out a quiet squeak, and turned in the circle of his arms until she was facing him, noses touching.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ He whispered, rubbing gentle circles into her back. She slid even closer to him, bodies pressed together as she shook her head, mumbling something about how it was enough for him to be here; that she didn’t want to be reminded of whatever she’d just been seeing in her mind’s eye.
‘Ok, Cait’, he replied, tucking her head under his chin. A moment later, she pulled back ever so slightly, just enough that she could look him in the eye (he knew how much she hated eye contact, but ‘it’s different with you’. She’d said to him once. ‘I can always make eye contact if I have to, but I don’t enjoy it. With you, though, I don’t feel like you’re waiting for me to do anything. There’s no weight or judgement to it. I just like looking in your eyes, sometimes. They’re so pretty.’)
‘Mitch?’
‘Yeah?’
She paused for a second before saying, ‘I love you.’
‘I know you do. I love you, too.’
‘Promise?’
It was funny, really. How it gave her butterflies every time he said he loved her, how she thought she would never tire of hearing it from him. It had been 15 years since anyone other than her brother had told her they loved her. And God, did she love Kip with her entire being. But Mitch had chosen to love her, and despite herself, she loved him back.
‘Promise. And I always will. And one day, I’m gonna marry the hell out of you, Caitlin Lenox.’
‘Mitch-‘ she faltered slightly. ‘You didn’t just propose to me in the middle of the night… after I had a nightmare, did you?’
‘Nope.’ He quipped back. ‘You’re gonna know when I really do propose to you. And I’m going to ask your brother first. Not that it will change my mind if he says no. But this is just me letting you know that one day I’m going to. That I’ve got you, and I’ll hold you for as long as you need me to. Hell, I’ve been thinking about it and I have a half a mind to change my surname to Lenox.’
She snuggled further into his chest. ‘God, you’re so corny sometimes’ she said sleepily, drifting off at the end whilst she added ‘but won’t two Dr Lenoxes be a bit confusing?’
Mitch smiled, holding her tightly against him and smiling into the top of her head.
If the lights had been turned on, Caitlin would’ve seen that he was blushing the same shade of red that Caitlin was blushing in the photo of the two of them at Navy pier. Next to their bed. In their apartment. Sharing their lives.