A/N: Sometimes you have to go back to go forward, so this chapter starts with a flashback. I've missed Careese and 4.20 just exacerbated that. In my mind Carter was shot in 3.09 but it wasn't fatal. From 3.08 I felt there were many parallel between John and Paul and I'm having fun exploring that. As always, enjoy x.
Mid-October 2014, Mulberry High School, Brooklyn.
Taylor sat frozen in his soccer uniform; so shocked he couldn't put on his seatbelt. "She's pregnant?" He repeated for the third time.
"Yeah. She is. We're having a baby."
"But you'll be...44 when the baby comes." He calculated, thinking his father was too old for this kind of responsibility.
"I will. But hey, she won't."
Taylor didn't need reminding, C.J. had already labelled her a Milf the first time he saw the 27-year-old lead a spin class at the gym. He thought to himself for a moment. "So what you told me on my birthday-"
"Still applies." He said affirmatively. "Use a condom. Every time." Taylor laughed to himself. "What's so funny?"
"They should call it Unplanned Parenthood."
"Taylor." He stopped laughing, barely. "I want her to move in with us. I need to know you're gonna be okay with her being there, not just on weekends."
"Can I keep my room?"
"Of course, I'll turn the spare room into a nursery when we need it."
He shrugged. "Then I'm cool. So, are you gonna marry her?"
Paul shook his head. "My first wife is my last."
Taylor was confused. "But you're divorced."
"Still applies." He stated.
Saturday, 10.50am, Highland Park, Rochester, New York.
Two cigarettes and an angry phone call of child support threats later, Felice gave up her position at the door and went back in the house, giving them some space.
"I'm sorry." He said again, walking uncomfortably beside her.
"I'm sorry. I could've taken your eye out. I was so..."
"Tired?"
She nodded emphatically. "I should've told them."
"You shouldn't have."
"It's the truth."
"It's a misdemeanour. You don't want that and I don't want that for you."
"What do you want Paul? I see you drifting away, like you don't know where you are or where you want to be."
"I want to be you; that's why you moved in, so we could be a family."
"You knew I didn't want the baby."
"I know. But like I said,"
"Unplanned not unwanted. I remember. You said you'd take care of me and I believed you."
He thought of the 12 hour days he worked, the furniture he put together by hand, and the car he bought her. "Don't I take care of you?"
"You provide for us but you're not present. You checked out and I don't know why." She stopped walking. "I don't know why you don't you help me. You've done all this before, I haven't."
He rubbed his eye. "I've never done this. I didn't have to."
"But you have Taylor."
"I have him now but not back then. I enlisted in '96, we had him in May '97 and I was in Kosovo before he turned one. She did it all."
"That doesn't make it right."
"No, it doesn't."
11.00am, Joss' Apartment
She threw in another pair of shoes, a dress and a spare magazine, and zipped up the duffel bag. All he told her was to wear boots and wrap up warm, and she was nervous. 7 minutes, no problem. 7 hours, a privilege. But 7 whole days alone with John?
Taylor knocked for her. "There's a driver outside. Are you ready?"
"Come in. Almost. I'll be back on-
"Friday."
"And if you need me-"
"Use any of the burners."
"And if you can't reach me-"
"Call the operator – Harold will track my signal. Are you okay?"
She was flitting around the room like a hornet. "I'm...are you okay?"
"I guess. It's weird without her."
"I'm sure you'll see Amy and Monique soon enough. You got a date tonight?"
"No, she's shopping for her Prom dress. Her uncle's getting sentenced next week, his girlfriend too."
She stopped flapping. "How'd you feel about it?"
"I wish it wasn't happening but I got her back 'cause she's got mine."
"Spoken like a real man. I think I'm ready. Wait, your finals-"
"Are in two months. I've got it." He said, self-assuredly.
"Yes you have. One last thing, tell Harold to visit our elderly friend, he could use some company. And thank Fusco for me. Preferably with doughnuts."
"Okay Ma." He carried her bag to the car.
11.30am, Highland Park, Rochester, New York.
They finally reached the lilac collection she was attached to from a young age. Even in their mess she still held a deep appreciation for nature. "I used to come here after school, in the summer, or whenever I had a bad day. You know these lilacs come from the Balkan mountains? I always thought I'd get married here."
"In a garden, figures."
"It's not just a garden. It's life, mother nature reigning supreme, showing her glory. Making something beautiful." He remembered this woman; the one who taught him to meditate, to be still.
"When my dad and didn't show up and Felice went out with hers, Mom used to bring me here. She would say, how can you be sad when life is so beautiful? Then she would curse the day she met him."
"You've been through a lot."
"That's why I didn't want to keep it. I didn't want to end up bitter and jaded like my mom. Like Felice is becoming."
He finally understood her position. "I asked you to keep the baby because I wanted a chance to get it right from the beginning."
"So what happened?"
"It's not how I thought it'd be. It's harder, it's stressful, it's..."
"Work."
He agreed. "It's work."
"It will always be work Paul. But she's ours and we both have to take care of her. Not just when she's happy."
4.00pm, Ashland, Aroostook County, Maine
Finch's private Jet had flown them close to the border with Quebec. They drove through the woods, down the long and winding road. They passed an Acadian flag.
"My dad told me about the Acadians when I was little. The black Loyalists too. Why'd you bring me here John?"
"There are no cameras, no feeds."
"Privacy."
3.30pm, Rochester, New York.
Felice opened the door with her phone between her ear and her shoulder and handed Paul the baby without missing a bit of the conversation. Her youngest two children had been picked up, albeit late in the day. But her eldest sat in the living room watching cartoons, sticking out like a coffee bean in a pot of rice. "Come home," was all he said at the pathetic situation. Monique packed the bag in fifteen minutes. And like clockwork, as soon as the car door was shut, Amy began to cry.
4.00pm, Ashland, Aroostook County, Maine
When they arrived at the cabin, history was the last thing on her mind. The fire was the first on his. He pulled logs from the crate while she sat on a worn, comfy sofa, shivering with a blanket across her lap. "I'm not complaining John but I'm freezing my ass off here."
"I'll make it up to you."
She opened a few empty cupboards before she found a selection of dark liquor and some short glasses. "What are you having?"
He lit a few matches and closed the screen. "Lady's choice."
She poured two generous glasses of bourbon.
4.25pm, 8thPrecinct
"Who's Taryn Bates?" Walker asked, after Fusco left Harry Wells crying in the interrogation room.
"A young girl who killed her father, she got a custodial sentence at a juvenile detention facility. I worked the case with Carter, some good news for when she gets back." Fusco realised he'd been doing more than just sitting at her desk. "What is it with you and Carter anyway?"
"I like a challenge. Harry confessed."
"It's not a confession. Nodding yes, saying no. Repeating the questions back to me. It won't hold in court; he's lying. He didn't do it. I know enough about lying to know that giving too many details is a dead giveaway. No pun intended. Lynne dumped those files in our hands."
"Darius is like a son to me. That's what she said on Thursday. Does Lynne Brady have a son?"
"No, she has a daughter."
Walker typed away. "Marie, 19, she's a volunteer at the Platt's church in Staten Island. She visited the campus every two weeks, as Darius' guest. They did Outreach together, feeding the homeless."
"You think Marie and Darius had a thing?"
"Or Marie and Harry. Why else would he confess if he didn't do it?"
"To protect who did."
"I've got your motive; Marie booked an appointment at a Women's clinic on Friday. She never made it."
"Find her, I'll do the rest." Fusco headed back into the interrogation room.
5.30pm, Ashland, Aroostook County, Maine
The room was finally warm enough for him to undress and blindfold her like he'd planned to all along. She submitted to the darkness, heightening her remaining senses. Touch: the curve of his lips as he kissed her neck and worked his way across her collarbone. Taste: the burn of bourbon and the bitter sting of perfume as he sucked on her bottom lip. Smell: that soap smell again. The sound of their hungry kisses and lashing tongues and the moan when he lifted her up against the wall and moved inside her, feeling every inch slowly until she was full. She squeezed her thighs around his waist as he lifted her body again and again, assaulting her G spot, giving her pleasure and pain she couldn't escape from. He couldn't see her stinging eyes but he heard her curse more in a matter of minutes that she had since they first met. He watched her face change, her brow, her frown lines, her teeth, like she couldn't take it anymore, like he was hurting her.
"Say when." He whispered, inviting her to use their safe word.
She came a few strokes later. "...When." She gasped. He put her down on her feet.
6.30pm, Ashland, Aroostook County, Maine
"Where did you get these?" Joss was wearing a royal blue Zeta Pi Mu tank top with white Greek letters and matching boy shorts.
" ."
"I never should've told you; I've created a monster."
Richard Pryor: Live at the Sunset Strip was playing on a solar TV-VCR Combo. Two fatty steaks were sizzling in frying pan.
"And where'd you get this?" She asked, opening the golden tin and smelling its green contents.
"It's homegrown." He turned the steaks.
"John. You can't-"
"Finch told me you let Philip Rowell smoke in front of you."
"That was medicinal – he was suffering."
He smiled. "He was faded."
She giggled and shook her head. "I can't. I haven't since...I just can't John." She poured two more drinks.
"Okay, why'd you pledge?"
"I always wanted sisters so I thought, why not move in and have 20?" She rolled her eyes. "I was their pet project."
"Really?" He smiled.
"They helped me to shed my "nun image". I'd never been so carefree before; I haven't been since."
"What happened to that girl?"
She tugged at her t-shirt. "The Zeta?"
"No, the little girl."
"We moved around a lot so I learnt to keep it mobile; to pack up my life at a moment's notice."
"Following your father?"
"When we could. For the record, this is peer pressure." She rolled the perfect blunt and sealed it with a long lick.
"Where'd you learn that?"
"Law School. I had finals coming. I was so afraid I would fail my first year." She shook her head at her own behaviour. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She giggled again and took a long drag. She stood beside him and made smoke circles. He watched with a newfound respect for her. "I swear it's the altitude."
He plated the steaks and put one arm around her. "What happened to that carefree girl?"
"Life. My mom said I used to collect wounded birds, bring them in, nurse them back to health." She exhaled, blowing away from his face. "And Paul was the most wounded of them all."
"She didn't want you to marry him?"
"No. To her he was damaged beyond repair and I needed a man more like my father. Solid. Whole. Dependable."
"You were in love."
"And she couldn't tell me any different." She stubbed it out on the stove. "You see John. It's in the eyes. I saw the good in him and I believed. And I made him believe. That's why I loved him." She looked at him, penetrating through like only she could do. "And then I found you and I saw the good in you and I believed. But you don't believe John. And that's a shame. My wounded bird."
He pulled her closer to him. "So who brought you in and took care of you?"
She smiled with joy and pride. "The man who held me in that alley, and told me to hold on, because he needed me." She sniffed. "'Cause the world needed me." She went silent. A solitary tear dropped. She wiped his face.