A/N: Title comes from an address by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II following 9/11; "Grief is the price we pay for love"
1947
"I never knew I could hurt like this"
Foyle's face was soft with sympathy as he studied the recent widower who sat beside him on the bench as the rest of the congregation enjoyed the spring sunshine, "Feels like you've swallowed a piece of glass doesn't it?"
John Ascot blinked at him in surprise, "I…I hadn't known how to describe it but that is how it feels"
Foyle nodded sadly, "That won't ever go away" The younger man sucked in a sharp breath and Foyle gave him a sympathetic look from under his furrowed eyebrows, "Over time…the edges wear away…" He took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he continued, "It never goes away but…it does stop hurting with every breath…just takes time…"
There was a long pause while Ascot digested this, "But until…I mean how do you…"
"Carry on?" Foyle asked softly. Ascot nodded and it was Foyle who looked down chewing hard on his cheek for several minutes until a peal of childish laughter made him look up with a sad almost wistful smile before he turned back to the grief-stricken man beside him.
"You go on because you must" he said softly, "She'd want you too and you've got your children…"
"But that's just it! I don't know…they want answers I don't have"
Foyle nodded understandingly, "They'll learn that some questions don't have answers and until then…they just need you to be their father" He swallowed hard, straightening his tie out of habit, "Nearly got that one wrong…thought I needed to change because…" there was a pause and then Foyle forced a smile, "Fortunately my son has never had trouble speaking his mind."
Ascot gave a watery chuckle and Foyle's lip twitched before he leant forward making sure to catch the younger man's eye even as he lowered his voice slightly, "People want to help, not a bad idea to take them up on it."
As if to prove both of his points a little girl came running over and grabbed her father's hand, "Daddy Mrs. Brown said we're to come for tea, can we please? I want to see Molly's new doll!"
He looked at Foyle questioningly and Foyle nodded slightly, "Of course we can darling" his voice was rough as he stood and scooped his daughter up holding her close and burying his face in her hair for a moment before setting her down and forcing a smile, "Go and find your brother"
The little girl nodded and raced away and Ascot turned to Foyle who had also gotten to his feet, "Thank you"
Foyle nodded, "Not at all, takes time but you manage." He swallowed hard, "You'll never stop missing her but you'll learn how to bear it and certain things get easier."
"Hopefully braids are one of them, I think her friends' mothers have taken to fixing Peggy's hair when she comes over"
Foyle smiled, "Well wouldn't know about braids but suspect they just take practice." A call of "Daddy" came from across the churchyard and Foyle inclined his head, "I'll let you go." He hesitated, chewing on his cheek once more before adding quietly, "You just have to be their father it's more than enough, even if it doesn't always feel like it."
They shook hands and Foyle watched Ascot walked over to his children, his head higher than it had been and he prayed that they would find their way through the rough sea of loss as he and Andrew had.
The End
