But Not Forgotten
By jjbird
Disclaimer: Of course these aren't my characters, as much as I'd like them to be. They are owned by some other very clever people.
A/N: This is pretty much set in Season Four, before 'Freefall', and then it goes into my own cosy AU. I wrote the first two sections way back when I was struggling with Another Life, quite some time ago, a story blast I called it, unknowing what was to happen to poor Jack... So, huge thanks to Mariel, my beta, for her friendly kicks in the butt; and thanks to Inken, Trish and Diane, for their initial thoughts as well. And to all at Maple Street, best damn site ever!
Chapter 1.
Endings.
What can you say?
Mere words are not adequate.
What can you do?
Just be there for them, hoping your proximity will help.
Jack had already had an apprenticeship in this awful business; he'd never thought he'd have to go through it again so soon.
He squeezed his daughters' shoulders reassuringly as they all got into the taxi.
As for words, God knows he'd delivered enough bad news to families before. He sometimes felt he'd written the book.
But this –this was different.
This was family.
This was Maria.
Xx—
He'd nodded at the doctor numbly, barely processing the words. He'd thanked her, in a daze, for doing her best.
He'd been too late; by the time he was halfway in the air to Chicago, Maria had flat lined. He'd never felt so far away from his girls as he had then, sitting in a taxi on the way to the hospital, after receiving the ghastly update.
Once there, Jack had found his girls huddling against a woman he met only once before, a teacher who had looked after them when the news came through, via Maria's office, of all things.
He could just hold them tightly; always wanting them to be with him, but not at this terrible price.
Wishing your wife was dead in the aftermath of a divorce was one thing; having it actually happen was another.
He remembered the last time he'd seen her: having the last word over weekend swapping as she followed him out to his waiting cab.
"You've no choice in this Jack. I want them for that weekend; it's important to me."
"For Christ's sake, it's my weekend; I've already made plans with them. You know I have to map my schedule out weeks in advance," Jack had thrown at her, getting in the cab.
"Bullshit! You've never worked to a schedule in your goddamned life!" she'd spat at the closing door.
He'd fumed and fumed on the way to O'Hare. Damn, she was a frosty bitch…
Knowing she'd nag until she got her own way, he had phoned before the flight and left a message on the answering machine, saying she could have it her way and have that particular weekend.
And that was it.
Then the awful phone call, three days later.
Her car, her cell phone, an unexpected pedestrian, a truck.
Too late.
The phone call came just before questioning a suspect. He'd dropped everything; raced to LaGuardia and wrangled a seat on the next flight.
Too damn late.
Xx—
Olczyk assembled the team, his face solemn. "I just heard from Jack. He wanted me to tell you… Maria died on the operating table a short time ago." He looked at their faces as they digested the news. He wasn't pausing for dramatic effect; he just didn't know what to say about the Supervisory Special Agent's ex-wife. "He'll be taking a leave of absence while he gets things sorted out. Vivian, you'll take charge of the unit for now."
"How long will he be away?" Martin asked.
Olczyk shrugged. "I suggested a month. He's got his daughters to worry about: he's got to move them back to New York; get them settled again."
"Any ideas on when the funeral might be?" This time it was Danny.
"Can't say. It wasn't a long call." He looked pointedly at Vivian. "Maybe you should keep in contact with him for now."
Vivian nodded. Always a woman's job at a time like this. "I'll do that."
"Thanks," Olczyk said gratefully, before leaving.
The team were still standing in the bullpen, each lost in their thoughts. The team was smaller again; Elena had finally got her first choice and left a short time before.
Samantha felt she needed to be elsewhere.
Anywhere, not here.
She picked up her handbag. "Viv, if I'm not needed…? I've got some things to do," she said, trying to keep her voice normal, in spite of the lump in her throat.
Vivian nodded, knowing pretty much what was going through Samantha's mind right then.
"When will you call Jack?" Danny asked as he turned to Vivian, ignoring Martin watching Samantha's exit.
"I'll call tomorrow. Tonight he needs to be with his girls."
Xx—
Samantha set out from Federal Plaza like a woman possessed. When she hit Broadway, she suddenly realized she was going in the wrong direction of wherever she wanted to be. She stopped, saw a café and went in. Shakily ordering a cup of coffee that she didn't need, she sat at the furthest table from the door, her back to the other customers.
Jesus Christ…
What the hell was wrong with her?
She covered her face with her hands. She was upset -was it for Jack?... His daughters?... Or -God help her- for Maria?
How she'd hated that woman, for one reason or another.
Now, Samantha just hated herself.
She knew one thing for sure: Jack Malone was now untouchable.
Forever.
Xx—
It had been a coincidence that had required Samantha to be busy on the day of Maria's funeral, and it solved her problem. Vivian went, because she knew Maria well enough and because of her years of working with Jack; Danny, because of his friendship with Jack; Martin, because it was the right thing to do for your boss. But Samantha, who had been internally debating about going or not, had been needed to go to the NYPD about a case. The rest of the team understood, and it was silently agreed between them that it was probably for the best.
Part of Samantha wanted to be there for Jack, but a larger part felt it just wasn't the right thing to do. It wasn't avoidance; it was just not being there.
Jack would understand.
He probably wouldn't even notice.
Xx--
"Hey Jack."
"Hi," Jack replied.
"I was just... you know, wondering how you were," Samantha said awkwardly.
There was a pause that went on too long. She knew Jack was still on the line.
"Jack?"
"Yeah... yeah, I'm here."
Another pause.
Okay.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have called... I'll catch you later," and she hung up before he could attempt a reply.
Sitting in the armchair, Jack had been staring out the window when his cell phone rang. Now, he stared at the phone in his hand.
What does one say to a former lover when your ex-wife dies?
What do they say to you?
He closed the phone and pressed it against his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut.
He had noticed her absence at the funeral. It was obvious, but he knew she wouldn't have wanted to come –even if she hadn't been needed at NYPD. Vivian had filled him in.
Where was the book of instructions that could help him in all this? It wasn't like he could turn to his father for help, and Maria's parents had been too distressed for anything. They were too shocked to help with the funeral or with taking Maria's body back to New York. They certainly didn't know how to deal with their former son-in-law, having had Maria's sole version of events.
He was on his own for this one. From the minute he had reached the hospital.
Here he was, not even technically a widower, just a dead woman's ex-husband. That had been fun, trying to explain it to the elderly priest, who couldn't quite comprehend, in an old-fashioned way, why Jack was organising everything for his ex-wife. He had almost smiled at the priest's words: Surely, there's someone else who would be… more comfortable doing this?
Jack had decided not to deliver a eulogy. It would have been false, certainly coming from his mouth. Even if he had tried, speaking about the good times and memories, everyone would have seen through him. One of the senior partners he'd known from Maria's New York firm had given one, and had done a good job.
Some partners from her Chicago law firm had flown out. He had no idea who they were, and frankly, didn't care. That asshole Scoggins had turned up and Jack ignored the hand he'd held out to shake. Staring at the audacity of the man, Jack wondered, not for the first time, if Scoggins had slept with Maria. And as Jack turned around, guiding his daughters elsewhere, he found it didn't matter, anyway.
He'd prove him wrong.
He'd prove Maria wrong.
He'd manage looking after his daughters.
From somewhere in the apartment, Hanna's voice called out for him. He put the phone down and got up.
Xx—
TBC