It hits her harder this time, he can tell. When they had lost their first baby, it had hurt. In a gut-wrenching, soul-scraping way. He'd wake up in the middle of the night to find her sitting upright in bed, trying to muffle the sound of her crying as tears flowed rapidly down her cheeks. And then he's hold her close and she'd burst into full sobs and then he'd be crying too. Because he had lost so much before but no loss would ever come close to this. They would sit together in bed like that, until sobs turned to sniffles, until she passed out with her head pressed against his heart or he drifted away with his arms branded tightly around her waist. Sometimes, during the weekdays, he accompanied her to her therapy sessions, but most of the time he knew that that was something she needed to do by herself. He thought about going to shrink by himself too, but he wasn't as strong as her, he couldn't let his emotions out like she did, couldn't help his own self like she was doing.
But being with her still made everything better. Seeing her heal, healed him. Together, they healed each other.
And then miraculously, for a while, everything was just better. There were hits and bumps; running for alderman; losing his way while she fought for Louie and then finding his way back. But after that, when they were a family, the three of them, he found a happiness that he had never felt before. Walking down the street, one arm holding Louie, the other arm around her shoulder, he couldn't stop smiling. His heart was full and his body was weightless and for the first time, he thought that it was all worth it. He stopped thinking about the baby they could've had. Because the family they had now was worth everything.
And when that too came to an end, his first thought was that he might be cursed. That maybe having a child, being someone's father, was just not in his books. The crack that was almost healing over, burst anew, deeper and bloodier and messier. Watching her pack their son's bags, he felt like someone was squeezing his heart in his chest, he thought he might not survive the pain of it. And he thought he might not survive seeing her break again. Oh, how cruel was fate, to give him the strongest of women and then break her in front of his eyes, while he could only watch, doing nothing.
That night, after they sent Louie back to where he belonged, they were both quiet. The apartment was too quiet. The entire world had gone silent. He couldn't hear his footsteps on the floor, he couldn't hear the water running in the bathroom. Her spoon clanged against her full plate and he didn't hear it. They went about the motions of life mechanically. She kept looking at the small, colorful plastic cup still laying in the sink. One moment her face would be blank, and then she'd blink and the pain on her face would be so visceral that he'd feel like choking on air, and then it would be back to blank again.
When they went to bed, they held on to each other almost desperately, and he couldn't help but think about a night like this almost a year and a half ago, only this was so much worse. Because the idea of a child, a child that had not yet existed, could not compare to a living, breathing human. Could not compare to squeaky toys and cartoon nights and 'mommy and daddy', could not compare to an empty room. And then she was sobbing again and the tears in his eyes had never really dried in the first place, and he had seen much in his life, but he still could not believe that fate had dealt them such a poor hand of cards.
"I fought for him so hard, you know," she said, hiccupping on her tears, "I fought tooth and nail; I gave it my everything." Her voice crumpled, "He was supposed to be ours."
"I know," he whispered. There was nothing more that he could say, nothing that could justify the pain. "I know."
She started going to therapy again, and this time he went with her more often. For a few days she was too quiet, and back on the job, everybody gave her space because they understood, because even though she was Gabriela Dawson, she was still human. But even when a few weeks passed, and she started smiling and joking again, he could still see behind the façade. He caught her sometimes, looking blankly in the air, staring at nothing. He knew that at least once a day, she scrolled through all the pictures of Louie on her phone. They saved a small child from a car accident, and he could see her hands shaking as she checked the boy's wounds.
They went to meet Louie over the weekend, and at the end of the day, he latched onto her shoulders and would not let her go. It was a goodbye all over again and when they got back home, she couldn't stop sobbing. And it was a moment that he'd never forget, because he'd never felt more helpless, never wished he could take away someone's pain so badly. Even though there was a gaping hole in his chest, he knew that her pain would only be worse because she was the one that had carried their child in her body, she was the one who had spent days on end waiting at the DCFS office, refusing to budge.
But still, they healed, as they always did. There were real smiles and happy nights, small victories and even some large ones. Louie was adjusting to his new life too, which at once made them happier and sadder. They adjusted to life without him, cleared his room, turned it into an office. Life was not the same and even though the scar remained, the pain faded and diffused. But he did not know just how deep than scar ran until a night, almost a year later, when he finally decided to gather up his courage and ask her something that he had been thinking about for a while.
He decided to broach the subject in passing, just to open up a discussion, a possibility. He kisses the back of her hand, looks into her eyes, "I want to try again…to have a baby," he tells her. "I want you to think about it, okay? I don't want you to feel pressured –I just want you to really consider the possibility."
Her reaction isn't what he was hoping, or expecting for that matter. The flash of fear that immediately encompasses her face leaves him alarmed. It's not apprehension or even denial, it's full blown fear, real and tangible.
She starts shaking her head, takes her hand back from his. He grabs her shoulders, "Gabby-"
She looks up at him, meeting his eyes with her own glistening ones. She bites her lips, clears her throat, "It's not that I don't want to… it's just, after all that's happened…did you ever think that maybe I'm just not meant to be a mother?"
It's the same thought he had about himself when they lost Louie but hearing it from her, seeing how she absolutely believed what she was saying, it's different. It's a shard to his chest.
"No," he says, "Absolutely not. The time we spent with Louie only strengthened what I already knew. You were and will be an amazing mother."
She gives him a teary smile and then she spills the real reason behind her fear, grabs his hand so tightly, her nails dig into his skin. "What if it doesn't work out this time either?" she asks. It's been a while since he has seen her this vulnerable. "I can't go through that again, Matt… I can't."
And neither could he, he thought. Because the only thing stronger than hope was having your hope destroyed, and they had been through that one too many times. But was he willing to just give up? Just accept that this wasn't meant to be?
He gathered her in his arms, hugged her close, her forehead against his cheek. "I know that it's scary. And I can't guarantee that nothing will go wrong. But I can tell you that all the pain….all that we've been through, it will be worth it at the end."
And so, a possibility was opened. It still took time, and the fear that had taken root inside of them never truly went away. But still, they continued, healing themselves and each other, one stitch at a time.
Because the only thing stronger than having your hope destroyed was learning to hope again, and that was kind of their specialty, wasn't it?
God, I was a mess after this last episode of Chicago Fire, I literally cried so much. I was kinda pissed that the showrunners decided to give Louie back to his birth father because I thought adopting a kid was such a good story-line for Casey and Dawson and sent such a good message in regards to normalizing adoption and normalizing mixed-raced families. I know it was for additional drama and angst (which worked because I CRIED) but I still wish they hadn't gone for it. Also, I made it worse for myself by writing this angsty oneshot but I hope you enjoyed!