Hey guys! So this is my first CoD fanfiction story. I'm really excited about it and I've got a lot planned. I was only going to do a one-shot, but as you can see, I've gotten nowhere. So I will make this into a short story. By the way, I'm kind of new to actually writing on fanfiction. I've been reading a lot, though. I'm one of the silent readers, but I will quickly take care of that… As soon as I learn how to. Anyways, please review!
Oh and the parts that look like this are their thoughts. Just wanted to share that with you. Hope you like this chapter!
You are now Natara Williams:
You sit down on a grassy hill, overlooking what used to be a brutal crime scene. The body has been removed but the little area is taped off with crime scene tape. You can just make out a few familiar faces down below. The goofy, long, chestnut haired forensic tech talking to some other officers; the curvy figure of a blonde woman; the older looking one with blonde hair, barking out orders; and the outline of the younger detective with black, spiky hair.
'I can't believe they are all still here. Even after 5 years.' You think to yourself, 'But where is-"
Suddenly, a black, sleek car pulls up to the crime scene and a handsome man gets out. As soon, as he steps out of the car, you look at his cerulean eyes and recognize him almost immediately. You'd know those eyes anywhere. Why wouldn't you? You've looked into those eyes hundreds of times before in the past. You smile instinctively at the sight of him, even though he can't see you.
'There he is.'
"Mommy!" the little girl beside you tugs on the end of your shirt.
"What is it, honey?" you ask, smiling down at your daughter.
"Who is that?" she asks, pointing to a male officer.
"Oh, that's Joe Bartaugh. I used to work with him back when I lived in San Francisco," you explain to her.
"Oh. Well who's that?" she asked, pointing to the blonde woman with the curvy figure.
"That's Detective Blaise Corso. I used to work with her, too."
"Did you work with all of those people?"
"Most of them, yes. There are a few new faces around, though,"
"Oh... Who's that?" she asks, curiously.
"That would be Jerem- err, Detective Jeremy Redbird, the Rookie. Or, he used to be the Rookie..." A wave of sadness washes over you at the thought of how long you've been gone and how some stuff has changed. You quickly get over it, and point to some people.
"That's Kai Kalaba. Remember when mommy used to tell you all those stories about when I was in San Francisco?" you ask your 5 year old daughter.
"I think so," she furrows her eyebrows, struggling to remember.
"Well, remember the goofy science guy?"
"Oh yeah! The one that set everything on fire?"
"That's him," you nod appreciatively at the small child.
You look back towards the grassy clearing.
"That woman over there, wearing the hat? That's Anna Willis. And the guy with the dark skin and mustache? That's Sam Martinez."
"I don't remember him!"
"It's no wonder. He was shy, unlike some people I know," you glance at your daughter knowingly, and begin to tickle her.
She giggles and wiggles around, trying to get out of your grasp.
"Mommy, please stop it!" she exclaims, bringing out a whole new round of giggles.
You laugh along with her and stop after a few moments.
"Thank you," she sighs with relief, making you laugh.
You begin to study your daughter.
She has long, coffee colored hair, much like your own, that comes down to the middle of her back. She looks much like you, like a miniature Natara, except for her stunning blue eyes.
You quickly snap out of it, once you realize that she asked you a question.
"I'm sorry, baby. Momma was daydreaming again. What was that you asked?"
"I said, who's that man?"
"That's Lieutenant Charles Anders. He's the Captain."
"What happened to.. to.. Um.. Marliah?" she asks.
"Maria? She retired."
"Huh?"
"She quit her job, so she could rest for the rest of her life."
"Oh, okay." Silently, she crawls into your lap. You instantly wrap your arms around her slim frame.
"Guess which one was my old partner."
She takes a minute to look around at everybody, narrowing her eyes.
"Ooh! It's that one, isn't it?" she says excitedly, pointing to the man who got out of the black car earlier, "The handsome one with blue eyes and says H-E-L-L a lot!"
You can't help the small smile from slipping on your face. It described him to a T. "How'd you know that?"
"Well, you mention him the most in the stories and you describe him as being really tall and handsome,"
"I did not!"
"Did too," she begins to giggle.
"Do I really talk about him that much?"
"A BUNCH! More than anyone else."
"Okay then smart girl. You're right. Detective Mal Fallon. He used to be my partner and best friend..." Right when the words come out of your mouth, sadness floods over you again.
'Yeah, USED to be..' You think to yourself, bitterly.
"What happened?" she asks.
"Well, your father and I moved so we could live in a safer place where we could have you.. Mal didn't want me to go, but I had to. He stayed here, in San Francisco. I guess we just, drifted apart after that."
"Why don't you talk to him?" she asks, a little too loudly.
"Shh baby. They don't know we're up here. You need to be quieter," you whisper.
"Sorry!" she whispers, "Why can't they know we're here? You used to be one of them, didn't you?"
"Yes, but I'm not anymore so they won't let me anywhere near the crime scene."
"Huh?"
"They won't let me be over here."
"Well, why not? That's just not fair!" she crosses her arms, angrily.
You chuckle a little at her reaction.
"Well you never answered my question," she says impatiently.
"What question?"
"Why don't you talk to Mal?"
"I can't."
"Why not? You used to be friends, didn't you?"
"Yes, but that was a long time ago."
She furrows her eyebrow, then lets out a short shriek, making you jump.
"What's wrong?" you ask, worriedly.
"Nothing," she shrugs, "I just want Mr. Mal to come over here, so you can talk to him again."
"I don't know if he'll want to talk, hon."
"But, but- Friendship is forever! Once you become friends, you can't get rid of that! Like in that fairy tale that you read me last week!" she argues.
"Okay, okay. Settle down. I'll talk to him, just not now. I don't want our secret spot to be found," you whisper.
You look down and see an evil look on the child's face.
"What are you about to d-"
"MAL!" She, again, lets out a short, but loud, shriek.
Your eyes widen, and you clamp a hand over your daughter's mouth.
As she screamed, your eyes are glued to his face, down below. You see his head whip in your direction, but thankfully, there is a large tree hiding you and your daughter so he doesn't see you. He stares exactly at the spot, where you are sitting, so you hold your breath and pray he doesn't come to investigate. Fortunately, he looks at the ground, furrows his eyebrows, looks around once more for the source of the noise, then goes back to talking to Blaise.
As soon as he turns back around, you let out a sigh of relief and unleash your daughter.
"Don't do that! You're going to get us in trouble." You scold her.
"Sorry," she looks down, ashamed.
You take one look at her, and begin to smile.
"I can't stay mad at you," you tell her, wrapping her in a tight hug, making her giggle and squirm.
After a few silent moments, she looks up at you and whispers, "Mommy?"
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"Where is Daddy?" she whispers.
Anger rushes into your body with the thought of him. Flashbacks of countless, sleepless nights, worrying like crazy, and leaving voicemail after voicemail, receiving no answers back come rushing into your brain. Your breath shortens, and you feel angry tears start to form in the corner of your eyes.
You quickly push it away, not wanting your daughter to see you like this. Instead, you look down at her, put on a fake, bright smile, and say, "He's working, honey."
"When is he coming back?" she sounds so pathetic, you just want to sit down and cry with her.
"I don't know, sweetheart… I don't know."