AN: A few of you probably remembered this story I had up but I took it down. Anyways, I sorta revamped it a lot. Enjoy!
It is the morning after I received the voicemail from Fitz that he's coming home. My heart is relieved; I'm both happy and angry. I'm happy because he will be back in our lives. It doesn't matter how many wrongs he has done he's the love of my life and the best father in the world to Zachary (we call him Zach for short). Zach is the perfect mixture of the both of us. Beautiful tan complexion, deep gray eyes and the curliest mop of dark hair grace his small head. He has a lot of his father's mannerism and competitive spirit from me. He hates losing, especially to his favorite games. Knowing our past people will have a lot to say about us being good parents but I know that deep down in my heart that we are. We try our best to do right by him and Fitz has changed so much since we found out we were pregnant with him. He stepped his game up from the time the pregnancy stick showed positive until recently. His latest stunt left me unnerved despite understanding his motives. I'm so angry that he snuck into the night to do exactly what I told him not to do. But he didn't listen to me and now a month has passed since I last saw him. But I couldn't dwell on my anger, not right now, anyways... I have Zach to think about. Shaking my head to rid of the upsetting thoughts, I make my way to my son's room.
"Zach... good morning baby." I kiss him, lifting him out of his bed and he opens his eyes slowly to greet me.
"Mama" he coos, kissing me while holding my face with both of his chubby hands.
"You want to go to the park, baby?"
"Yessssss," he squeals and jumps up and down in my arms.
It's always a joyous sight to see him smiling.
We go about our morning, first eating breakfast – a bowl of his favorite Fruit Loops cereals and a bowl of quick Quaker oats with raisins and apple for me. We also ate a banana and drank some orange juice. Once we were finished eating and the place was cleaned up we got dressed and left for the park around 9:30 AM.
It was still summer so I dressed him in denim blue cutoff shorts, an orange tank top and his favorite Nike sneakers. I also wore denim blue cutoff shorts and a plain red t-shirt that hugs my breast nicely and its ribbed material hugs my torso impeccably. Lots of people do not believe me when I tell them that I have an almost two-year old son as they thought I'm a baby myself. But that was the good thing about having a lot of melanin. It preserves my youth; I like to joke.
We hold hands as we walk making our way to the neighborhood park that is a mile away from our house.
"Side mama," the first thing he says, as he points to the slide. Since school is out there are quite a few children playing at the park. Liv is happy that Zach will have children to play with today. With the life that his parents once lived, it didn't afford them with many friends so he often had to play with them.
After standing for a while I finally take a seat on a bench not too far from Zach, staring into the distance. I was so lost in thoughts of Fitz and wondering where he is or what happened that I was startled when I heard my cellphone ding, signaling a new text message. Before I look at it, I smile at Zach as he shows off his sliding skills proudly. After watching him come all the way to the bottom of the slide I give him a little clap, laughing when he did his infamous fist pump in the air. I watch as he rejoined the line for a second slide down.
Diverting my attention from him, I checked the text message on my phone.
You and Clyde have a really nice son. Would be sad to see him come up missing.
Immediately my body runs cold and I turn to the slide to look for Zach.
"Zach! Zach!" I immediately call his name after reading the horrifying text. Getting up from my seat, I run towards the slide and am instantly relieved when I see him second in line.
"Mama I go a-gwain," he tells me excitedly and I smile at him, not having the heart to pull him out of line. No one was going to take my baby. I would kill them first before that happened. Believe that.
While keeping an indirect surveillance of the place I watched as my baby boy went down the slide, squealing all the way. "Ok baby, its time for us to go" I tell him once he was standing at the bottom.
He pouts at me but I don't give in. His safety was my primary concern and I already stalled. We should've already been home, keeping safe.
When he realized that he isn't getting his way he begin to fret so I bend my legs, pick him up and settle him on my right hip. He lost the fight so he relaxes in my arms and rests his head on my shoulder. Taking a final look around at the fairly crowded park, I begin to walk back home.
My heart is beating fast as I walk down the pavement. Every car that passes by made me hold onto my son tighter. I silently pray, God please don't make me lose him. Please don't let him pay for our past.
We finally made it home safely and I immediately unlocked the door and rushed inside, locking it behind us – activating the deadbolts.
"Mama, hungwee," Zach's small voice chirps with his head still on my shoulder.
"Ok baby, let's get you something to eat."
After feeding him mashed potatoes and a piece of sautéed chicken, he was down for the count. I removed all of our dishes from the table, rinsed them before stocking them in the dishwasher.
Taking a few wet wipes, I wipe off his messy mouth and hands before lifting him from his high chair and gingerly make my way upstairs.
I carry him to his room and strip off his shoes and denim shorts. After checking his pull-up, I changed it after finding it wet. I was still working on him being potty-trained but he still had accidents, more frequently than I would like. Fresh and dry in a new pull-up I placed a soft kiss on his left cheek before finally placing him in bed.
I watch as he methodically breathes in and out. This is what keeps me grounded. He keeps me alive. If it wasn't for him, I would still be out there doing God knows what with his father. This little boy saved me; he saved us both. His father might have a hard time believing that but it is the truth.
Hearing a loud thump, I am startled out of my thoughts. I look to Zach and he is sound asleep. Thankfully, the noise didn't wake him. I grab the aluminum baseball bat that is used as a piece of decoration for his room but also serves as weaponry.
I slowly retreat from the room, making sure to lock the door from the inside. If anything happens to me, at least he will be safe, hopefully… That's my thought.
The stairs creak under my feet with each step that I took. It's ironic how these little sounds sounded loudest when you try to be quiet, while under regular circumstances it was hardly heard. The closer I get to the bottom of the stairs the faster my heart thump. My grip also tightened on the bat and I could feel sweat pooling on my forehead.
I hear footsteps on the floor, lots of footsteps. Oh, God, what if the person followed us from the park? Please don't let them take my son, I plead subconsciously.
I hold the baseball bat out ready to strike whomever was there. Rounding the corner to the living room I hear the clank of a glass coming from the kitchen.
Still arm for battle, I make my way towards the kitchen. The rapid pace of my heart increased ten folds once I saw the intruder. They're faced away from but I immediately recognized them. Dressed in shabby, filthy looking jeans and a once white t-shirt was the love of my life.
"Fitz?" my voice breaks as I call his name lowly.
I watch as he slowly turned around with an apple perch between his lips.
"Is that really you?" I ask, afraid that my mind is playing games on me
"It's me. I'm home, Livvie," he answers without hesitation.
His deep voice made me know that he is physically there, in person. I drop the bat and it landed on the wooden floor with a thud just as tears form in my eyes. I couldn't move, rooted to the spot I was on. I allow the tears to fall; relieving myself of the anxiety I bore, fear that I wasn't going to see him again.
Through cloudy eyes I watch as he put the fruit on the countertop before coming over to me. He wraps his arms around me and I cry even more. I held him close despite he smelt absolutely awful, like he hadn't had a bath in too many days. I didn't care because he was home. My love has come home…
After our reunion Fitz said he wanted to shower and I followed him into our room, still couldn't believe that he was really home.
I watched him as he stripped down and I immediately bagged his clothes in plastic bags to be discarded. No way I was washing them it couldn't be redeemed.
He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking. My eyes were still flowing with tears. He looked like he'd lost some pounds and was hairy all over.
I stood outside the bathroom and watched him shower. I looked at every part of his body through the fiberglass. His eyes were on mine and looked so sad. I have so many questions to ask him. Why did you have to do it? Aren't we enough for you? Am I not enough for you?
After lathering his skin with soap, he lathered his hair with shampoo. I watched, as he would soap, rinse, soap, rinse, repeatedly. Seemingly, trying to wash off the dirt from the past month.
I stepped back and grabbed him a towel when he was finished.
"Thanks," he said simply.
I nodded in reply, standing off to the side while he moved to the bathroom sink. He took the new toothbrush that I had set up a few minutes ago on his side of the sink and coated it with toothpaste.
My eyes followed his movements, as he vigorously scrubbed his teeth and tongue.
Finishing up on his oral care, he grabbed the shaving cream from the medicine cabinet along with his Gillette razor before lathering up his face with the cream, and with precision, glided the razor across his jawline.
I was lost in his meticulous movement, still couldn't fathom his return.
A few minutes later he finally was looking like the Fitz I know. Rinsing out his razor, he replaced it in the medicine cabinet and retrieved a pair of shears afterwards.
"Do you mind?" he asked me, holding up the scissor in his left hand. All this time the look in his eyes was far away and I know he was deeply troubled. There was so much regret in his eyes and I would find out sooner rather than later the why, but for now? No. I just want to revel in the comfort of his returned presence.
Unable to utter a word from the sheer fear of bursting into tears, I simply nodded a yes.
I beckoned him to sit on the single chair that we keep in our bathroom. I wrapped a smaller towel around his shoulders before grabbing one of my hair spray bottles and filled it with water from the tap. Finally grabbing a fine toothcomb, I began cutting his hair. It wasn't my first time doing it.
Bit by bit I clipped his hair, from shoulder length until it reached the tip of his ears. Removing the towel from him, I cleaned up the place.
"Thank you, Livvie-"
I muttered, "no problem," cutting him off.
When he turned around to face me I wanted to cry even more, as the man in front of me looked just like my Fitz. Handsome with his chiseled jaw, and piercing blue eyes.
He moved to our walking closet and to his side. Everything was just the way he left it, including his clothes. I walk towards the room and took a seat at the edge of the bed, staring at him.
Not long after he comes into our room dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and a tan cargo pants. It fitted loosely. I know for sure then that he lost weight and I wasn't happy about it but I still couldn't voice my concerns. At this point I don't know if it's fear holding me back from finding out what happened to him that pretty much took him off the map or, I'm too afraid of what this all meant for Zachary.
"Is Zach, sleeping?" he asked, pulling me out my reverie and his voice sounding like he was on the verge of tears.
"Yes" I replied huskily, really choked up.
"Can I see him?"
"Of course…" I would never deny him our son.
We made our way to Zachary's room and I unlocked the door and we walked inside. But when we did there was no sight of Zach anywhere, his bed was empty.
I looked over to Fitz and the horror that haunted his face told me he knew who kidnapped our little boy.
"Find my baby!" It wasn't a plead, but an order that ripped from my throat ferociously.
AN: What you think? What did Fitz and Olivia do in the past? What has Fitz been up to for the past month? Who kidnapped Zachary? (Probably have way more questions that answer, I know. lol) Following chapters will be in third person, I hate writing in first person but since I had write most of this chapter eons ago I had to stick with it. Don't forget to leave reviews. Thanks.