Chapter Thirty-One: From A Cradle To A Grave
"I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough."
— Nicholas Sparks
Will raced through the front door and shut it behind him, blocking the sharp wind and pouring rain from coming into the house. He clipped the leash in his hand off of Bean's collar and watched as the dog thoroughly shook himself off, water spraying onto the hardwood floor. Crossing into the kitchen, he could see Tate on the couch in the living room while Kit and Henry sat on the floor playing with some blocks.
"Oh look, you didn't melt," Tate quipped as she looked up from her book.
"It was a close one, it's pouring out there. I haven't seen rain that bad since hurricane season back home," Will said.
Will went over to the fridge and opened the doors, grabbing ingredients out of one of the drawers. He then grabbed a cutting board from the counter to start chopping some carrots and potatoes to make a stew for dinner. It was only lunchtime, but it would still take a while to cook, so he wanted to get started.
"Have the boys had a snack?" he asked Tate.
"Some cheerios," she told him as she got up from the couch and came to sit down at the kitchen counter.
"Are you still going to the movies with everyone?".
"Yeah, Carter and Ellie should be here soon and we're meeting everyone else there," Tate replied.
After being cooped up in the house for the past two days during the torrential downpour, Tate was looking forward to getting out of the house. She loved Will, Henry, and Kit of course, but two days alone with the three of them would give anyone a bit of cabin fever.
"Not sure I like the idea of you guys being out in the car in this," Will said, glancing at her as he poured himself a glass of water.
"We'll be fine, I promise. Carter will just drive slow," Tate assured him.
"Alright, just be careful," Will said hesitantly.
Being a cop, he had seen his fair share of car accidents, and even the best of drivers could crash in this type of rain. He sure as hell didn't like the thought of Tate being out in the storm but Carter was a responsible kid and Will knew he was a good driver. Will wasn't exactly sure what had happened between Tate and Carter–he'd only heard from JJ that they had broken up–
but there were apparently no hard feelings between the two, and Will had learned it was best for everyone involved if he stayed out of his daughter's love life.
The sound of a car horn pulled Will out of his thoughts, and he went back to chopping the carrots on the cutting board as Tate got up from the counter. Kit had run in from the living room at the sound of the horn, knowing it was Carter since he was the only one who ever honked outside the house.
"Catuh?" the little boy asked Tate.
"Sorry Kit-Kat, you'll see him later okay?" Tate told him, ruffling his brown curls.
Tate disappeared into the entryway to grab her raincoat and shoes, and Will called out to her as he heard her opening the door.
"Make sure he drives slow, alright?"
"I will, I promise, okay Dad?" the girl said before stepping out into the rain and closing the door behind her.
Meanwhile, Will stood in the middle of the kitchen, the knife he'd been holding frozen in mid-air as he stared after his daughter.
Dad. Such a simple word. He'd heard a variation of it from his sons a thousand times over, but he'd never ever heard it from Tate. Never in reference to Thomas, and certainly not in reference to him. JJ had claimed Tate had come close to calling him Dad before, but he'd assumed she was
just saying that to make him happy. Truth be told, he'd come to the conclusion that there was a very good chance Tate would never call him Dad or JJ Mom. Such a simple word, and yet here he was- a grown man, and a hardened police officer- standing in his kitchen with tears in his eyes.
For some inexplicable reason, it was so incredibly different from the first time Kit, and then Henry, had called him Dad. Perhaps it was because Tate wasn't actually his child, at least not by blood. After all, Kit and Henry were pretty much stuck with him, but Tate had chosen to stay with him and JJ. She'd chosen them to be her parents, for Will to be her father. But deep down, maybe it was just a matter of trust. Tate finally trusted him enough to be not just a father, but a dad, which Will had learned were so incredibly different. Thomas Jacobs had been a father, and so had Richard Sullivan; they'd been providers and protectors. But neither one of them had been dads; they hadn't been caring or loving, or someone whose children could depend on them.
Tate had been hurt or abandoned by everyone who had ever promised to be a parent to her, and she'd closed herself off from the rest of the world to prevent herself from being hurt again. So naturally, there'd always been some small part of her, a little voice in the back of her head, that told her she couldn't trust JJ and Will, no matter what they promised. And Will knew that. He knew she might never get past what had happened, and yet here she was; a happy, healthy 15-year-old that just called him Dad. Such a simple word, one that most people don't even think twice about, but to him, it was everything in the world.
By the time JJ got into the office, Reid and Blake were already in the kitchen drinking coffee. It was almost the end of the summer, and Garcia and Morgan had been in London visiting Emily for the past few weeks. Blake had arrived soon after they left and despite working with her for several weeks, JJ had yet to form a firm opinion on the woman. She was obviously smart, and fairly talkative, but she managed to make conversation without revealing too much about herself. Her lack of a relationship with Blake only made JJ miss Emily all the more. After all, the woman had been her best friend, her confidant in both her work life and her personal life, and now she was gone. JJ had wanted to go with Morgan and Garcia to see her, but the team couldn't spare anyone else and JJ was also taking time off starting at the end of the week to head down to New Orleans. Will and the kids had already been down there for two weeks just like the previous summer, but JJ had to stay behind in DC for a little while longer. She really hated missing the time they all spent as a family down there and seeing Beck and Amelia, but she knew it was unavoidable.
After they finished their coffee, JJ and Reid started heading back towards the bullpen only to find Garcia and Morgan already there.
"Hey! You guys are back!" JJ exclaimed as she and Reid walked through the doorway.
"Oy mates, give me a squeeze," Garcia greeted them in a surprisingly decent fake British accent.
JJ quickly hugged Penelope before breaking away and hugging Morgan while Reid gave Garcia a hug. Penelope, being the typical shopaholic that she was, had a mug with a Union Jack on it in one hand and a bag full of tourist tchotchke gifts in the other.
"How's Emily doing?" Reid asked.
"Brilliant and lovely," Garcia replied, still using her accent. "Now, how have my godson and his siblings been?" she asked, turning to JJ.
"They're good, the twins love seeing Amelia and Beck," JJ told her.
"And my favorite niece?"
"She's good," JJ said after hesitating for a moment.
And it wasn't a lie; Tate was good. Great, in fact. JJ had come home from an assignment just a few weeks ago, and everything had seemed normal. But as they were sitting down to eat dinner that night, she'd heard Tate call Will Dad, and she'd glanced up at Will to find him giving her the tiniest shake of his head. So, she hadn't said anything about it, at least not until Tate had gone upstairs to and to her room hours later. Will said it had started while JJ was gone, and Tate had mostly been switching off between calling him Dad and Will. As time passed, she'd started calling him Dad even more, and by the time they left for New Orleans, she rarely called him Will. And JJ was happy about it, she truly was. Except Tate hadn't called her Mom, not even once. She wanted Tate to do it when she was comfortable, of course, but she couldn't help but feel just a little rejected.
"You sure?" Garcia asked.
"Yeah, everything's great," JJ assured her.
The sun was setting as the jet flew over the clouds. The team had just finished up their case on the SIlencer, and were flying back home. Once they got back, JJ would go home and pack her bag before heading right back to the airport to catch a flight to New Orleans. JJ traced a finger over the photo in her hand, the only one she ever brought with her on trips. It was a picture of Tate and the twins that Grant had taken when they went out on the boat. As it turned out, the young Mr. Sullivan was quite a good photographer. It was JJ's favorite picture, as all three kids were laughing with the ocean in the back and the wind off the sea was ruffling their hair just slightly.
"Everything okay?" a voice asked, startling JJ slightly.
JJ looked up to find Blake standing in front of her, a cup of coffee in hand.
"Yeah, just fine," JJ replied quietly.
"I didn't know you had kids," Alex said, nodding towards the photo as she sat across from JJ.
"Yeah, three. Henry, Kit, and Tate," JJ explained as she handed Alex the picture.
"So what's wrong?" Blake asked. "I know you said everything's fine but well, you're over here staring at this photo so…"
"Tate's adopted," JJ found herself blurting out.
She didn't know why she found it easier to talk about this with Blake than she did with Spence or Penelope. Maybe it was because she didn't really know Blake, or how she would respond. Or perhaps it was because Blake had never met Tate. But either way, JJ was going to take advantage of her opportunity to finally talk to someone about it. Black simply sat there in silence, knowing that JJ had more to say.
"She's started calling Will, my husband, Dad recently but she hasn't…" JJ trailed off.
"She hasn't called you Mom," Alex finished, and JJ nodded in response.
"It's stupid, I know," JJ told her.
"Not really. You just want to make sure you're being a good mother," Alex assured her.
"Yeah," JJ replied quietly.
She'd really been trying to be around for Tate ever since the adoption, but her job made it hard. She wanted to be there for Tate, for all her kids, as much as she could, but it just wasn't possible. And maybe that was the reason Tate hadn't called her Mom. JJ was never around, and Will was always there for Tate to depend on.
"Maybe she was just closer with her mother when she was younger. If she's more used to having a loving mother, it'd be hard to switch to someone else," Blake suggested.
"Yeah, maybe," JJ murmured.
JJ knew Tate hadn't had a great relationship with Thomas Jacobs, and she couldn't imagine her relationship with Lauren had been much better. Perhaps Tate just didn't want JJ to be her mother. It wouldn't surprise JJ, given the fact that she chose work over her children. How could she be a good mother if she was constantly leaving her kids?
"Just give it time, I'm sure she'll come around," Blake promised.
The sound of laughter filled the house as everyone sat crowded in the living room of Beck and Aemlia's house. JJ had finally made it to New Orleans, and the entire family was having dinner together, including Collins' family. JJ looked over from where she was standing in the kitchen helping Amelia make dinner just in time to see Beck tickling a giggling June.
"This one is definitely gonna be a daddy's girl," Amelia spoke up from behind her as she rubbed a hand over her baby bump.
JJ hummed noncommittally before the meaning of Amelia's words hit her.
"You mean it's a girl?" JJ asked, and Amelia nodded.
"Get ready to have a niece,".
"That's amazing!" JJ exclaimed as she hugged her sister-in-law.
"It'll be amazing once she comes out. I, for one, do not enjoy being pregnant in the middle of the summer in New Orleans," Amelia quipped as she went to stir a pot on the stove.
"At least you only have one baby in there," JJ told her.
"True. So, how about you and Will, hm? Do you think you guys will have any more once the boys get a little older?" Amelia asked JJ.
JJ did her best not to flinch at the innocent question. After all, all Amelia wanted to know was if she was ever going to have another niece or nephew. But the thought of trying to have another baby, the thought of potentially losing another child, made JJ sick to her stomach.
"Um, no, I don't think so. We'll probably just stick to three," JJ replied.
Amelia stared at her silently for a moment before turning back around to the stove.
"You know, Beck and I tried to have another kid for years after Ezra was born, but it just never worked out. It was always so hard to get pregnant and when I did, well…" she trailed off.
JJ snapped her head up to look at Amelia, immediately understanding her meaning, and her sister gave her a sympathetic look.
"When did it happen?" Amelia asked.
"When I was in Afghanistan. There was an explosion and…that was it," JJ murmured.
"And you never told Will?"
"I found out when I was overseas, and he said he wanted to be told in person. So, I was waiting until I got back and then…I didn't want to burden him with it, with the pain," JJ said.
"But who are you to take that decision away from him?" Amelia asked quietly, and JJ didn't respond.
She loved Will more than she could say. If there was any way to keep him from feeling the pain she was feeling, she would. He didn't deserve to have to think about their dead child while he watched Tate play with the boys, wondering if the twins would have been good older brothers; or when the twins reached a new milestone and thinking about how their baby could have been doing the same thing one day if it had lived.
"Look, I know it's hard, believe me, I do. There were so, so many times I wanted to spare Beck from that pain. But pain is a part of life, as awful as it is. He deserves to know about his child, and you deserve someone to share your grief with. And it'll be hard, sure enough. It'll be one of the hardest things you've done in your life because it feels like you're causing him that pain. But no matter how much suffering it brings, he needs to know. He needs to have a chance to mourn his child and think about all the things that might have been and all the things that never will be, even if it hurts," Amelia explained softly.
"They would've been due around the same time," JJ whispered.
Ever since the moment she'd found out she was pregnant, JJ had firmly believed the baby was a girl. She hadn't been able to explain it, but somehow she just knew that her children would be getting a little sister. If she thought hard about it, she could picture it. Two little girls running around, one with straight blonde hair and the other with unruly brown curls– both with a set of blue eyes- racing around with each other. The two cousins could have been the best of friends, but now that would never happen.
"I know. I'm sorry,".
As much as JJ appreciated Amelia's words, they both knew there were no words in the universe that could fix what had happened. There was nothing anyone could say to ease JJ's suffering and she just had to continue on in life, mourning the loss of her child that she barely got the chance to love.
"I need to tell you something," JJ said from where she sat perched on the edge of their bed.
JJ knew Amelia was right, that Will deserved to know. So, she had spent all of that evening after dinner finished trying to work up the nerve to tell him.
"Don't tell me you've decided to divorce me already," Will joked as he finished brushing his teeth in the bathroom.
It wasn't until he turned around that he saw the serious look on his wife's face, and his heart dropped slightly.
"Everything okay?" he asked as he walked over to sit down next to JJ, and to Will's utter alarm, JJ started crying.
She didn't know how to do this, didn't know how to form the words to tell him that she had been pregnant, that she had lost their child. It would crush him, she knew it would. It had been bad enough discussing it with Amelia, and she hadn't even had to say it outright, it had just been understood.
"Hey Cher, what is it?" he asked as he gently brushed the tears off her cheeks.
"I had a miscarriage," she blurted out, not knowing any other way to deliver the news.
Will stiffened and his breath caught in his throat. JJ had been pregnant. He was supposed to have another child, but that child was gone.
"I…you didn't tell me you were pregnant," was all he could say.
"It happened in Afghanistan. I'm sorry, Will, I'm so so sorry," she mumbled between her sobs.
"Hey, none of that. It's not your fault," he whispered as he pulled her into his arms.
He could feel JJ trembling beneath him, and it took him a moment to realize he was shaking as well. There was a pain deep inside his chest, causing his breath to quiver slightly. He hadn't even known about the baby, hadn't had a chance to love it, and yet the news of its death was eating at him.
"If I had come home earlier…" JJ began shakily.
"You couldn't have known,".
"I'm sorry".
Will pulled back from her and cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him.
"It's not your fault, okay? You don't have to be sorry. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I'm sorry you had to go through that, I'm sorry you've been keeping this to yourself for months, and I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me," he said gently.
And it seemed his words were the straw that broke the camel's back, as JJ began fully sobbing into his chest. He wanted to do something, anything, to ease her pain but he knew there was nothing he could do. So he just sat there holding JJ in his arms, both of them clinging tightly to one another. It wasn't until he felt something warm on his face that he realized he was crying.
Will sat in the rocking chair in the boys' room, holding Kit in his arms. JJ had finally exhausted herself from crying for almost an hour, but Will hadn't been able to sleep. He'd gone to the boys room in an attempt to remind himself that he hadn't failed to protect all his children; that they were still here, and happy and healthy. After a while, simply watching the rise and fall of their chests hadn't been enough, and he needed to hold one of his kids, to feel their tiny little heartbeat against his chest and their warm breath on his neck. Knowing Kit was the heavier sleeper of the two, Will had scooped him out of his crib, and the little boy hadn't even moved.
As he sat there, Will heard the front door downstairs creak open, and a brief flash of panic went through him before he realized it was Beck. He stood up and crept over to Kit's crib and leaned over to lay the little boy back down.
"Hey," he heard Beck whisper from behind him.
Will finished laying Kit down before turning around and following his brother out of the nursery, slowly closing the door behind him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, running a hand through his hair as they walked down the stairs and into the living room.
"Amelia told me," Beck said quietly. "I'm sorry,".
Will glanced over at his brother as he plopped down on the couch and saw the sadness in his eyes. Beck understood all too well what it was like to lose a child; he and Amelia had gone through three miscarriages before giving up trying to have another baby, and Will remembered the heartbreak in his brother's eyes ever time he had told him.
Beck got up and headed into the kitchen, and Will heard the distinct clinking of glasses before Beck showed back up with a bottle of scotch in one hand and two glasses in the other. He popped the cap off the bottle and poured the brown liquid into a glass, handing it to Will before pouring one for himself and sitting down.
"You'll get through it, you and JJ. I'm not saying it won't suck, because it will; or that the pain will fade, because it won't; but it'll get easier to deal with it," Beck told him.
"How do you deal with it?" Will asked, staring into his glass.
"You have three wonderful children. I'm not saying they can replace what you lost, or that they'll make you forget what happened, but they're enough. They're more than enough to keep you going. You just…you keep them close, and you go on living,".
Will knew he could do that. His kids needed him to, and he'd do anything for them. It didn't ease the pain he was feeling, the grief buried deep inside him, but he knew it was what had to happen. Despite what had happened, the world was still spinning and everyone else was still moving, still living; he and JJ just needed to figure out how to keep moving with it.
"Á ceux que nous avons perdus (to those we have lost)," Beck murmured as he raised his glass.
Will looked up at Beck, slightly surprised at his brother's use of French. Their father had spoken French to them quite often when they were growing up, and both men were fluent in it, but they rarely used it. Then again, their father had always done toasts in French, so perhaps it was fitting.
"Á ceux que nous avons perdus," Will repeated before he and Beck raised their glasses and drank the amber liquid.
"Home wasn't a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go." –Sarah Dessen