Okie dokie, some housekeeping first!
Welcome to wildehaywardsbab and fridmame, I see you lurking there in the back! Hope to hear from you often!
Fridmame: I keep saying I tried something different with this one, you'll be the judge of that but these first chapters certainly have a more introspective tone
Now, a little note about this chapter: this here is my own interpretation of whether other people besides Cal knew. I know that in "Truth or consequences" Loker mentions something about it but I always found it hard to believe that he knew all about it (you'll see what I mean soon). So anyway, I'm just going with it.
Anybody up for some Gillian/Emily time?
She didn't sleep, she didn't even try. She didn't trust her own ability to block out thoughts and visions from the impromptu rescue mission they had stumbled upon, and even less she was confident that she could keep painful memories at bay. They were going to come anyway, she had known that the instant she had seen the newborn baby being brought out of the house, but she knew she could fight back better if she was awake and could rationalise.
Awake, she could think about all the other people affected by the events of the day, like that young EMT who had been bawling his eyes out.
Awake, she could focus on the fact that none of the kids was seriously hurt and that they were going to be ok.
Awake, she could pretend that the long shower had washed away the events of the day.
Awake, she could think about how Cal's small passing touch on her hand had brought her enormous comfort. Awake, she could think about the deep and loving concern in his voice, the painful attention in his eyes as he had taken the risk to ask the stupid question knowing that she was going to lie about it.
Awake, she could remember that Emily was there and that whatever was going on there was most definitely something that a girl her age shouldn't have to deal with.
So she just laid there, in a foreign bed that was definitely too big for her who had just about started to get used to sharing one with someone again, her eyes open staring at the ceiling as if the rustic wood beams held some kind of precious answer. After a while Gillian rolled on her side, not for the first time trying to conjure up the image of Cal lying next to her and, not for the first time, feeling like a teenager with a crush on the cute boy in class. Of the many ways she had dared to imagine the shift in their relationship would occur, a slap to his face had not made the list. The initial argument, that made sense, but it had been the impact of her open hand on his cheek that had really kick-started it all. It still struck her, after months, how much they had improved. It wasn't always easy, far from it, but it was in moments like that, when she missed him even though he was just in the room next door, that she realised how good they could be together.
With those thoughts running through her head Gillian stared at the pillow, groaning in pain and sinking her face in the mattress when it seemed to morph into Cal's smiling face.
"Ok," she huffed then and sat up on the bed. "Enough of this Gillian!"
She didn't know exactly how long she had been there, but she knew she didn't have the luxury to disappear for long. They still had a case to solve, part of it at least, and she was painfully aware that the more she hid away the more people would worry about her. She could handle Cal's silent concern, but there was also Emily to think about and with her Gillian couldn't just act like that.
Giving herself a little motivational speech Gillian stood in front of the mirror and checked herself, she did look a lot better after the shower and had opted for a more comfortable and house appropriate attire. She gave a last look to her reflection and nodded, then took a deep breath and left the room.
As she approached the door to the living room and kitchen area she heard some loud voices and nearly panicked, but then she realised that it sounded like a movie. Surprised and a bit confused, Gillian opened the door and stepped in, immediately seeing Emily had made herself comfortable on the couch and was using the projector on the wall to watch a movie.
"We should try this in your father's office," she commented then, admiring the definition on the big screen. "Of course not with him, it's impossible to watch a movie with him."
"Oh, I'm sorry Gillian!" Emily immediately jumped on her feet and paused the film. "Did I wake you?"
"No, don't worry Emily. I wasn't even sleeping, just…taking some time." She smiled at the girl and glanced up at the screen. "What are we watching?"
"Scream," Emily answered
Gillian nodded although the title didn't ring a bell, then walked over and joined her on the couch. The film had been stopped on the image of what seemed to be a very distraught young woman running toward the camera, chased by someone wearing a black tunic and white ghostly mask and brandishing a knife.
"Let me guess, horror?" She chuckled.
"Yeah, but also a bit of a thriller. Like one of those 'whodunnit', where you try to figure out who the killer is."
"I see, so no seemingly unstoppable killer like Jason or Freddie who keeps going to matter what?" Gillian had just about the time to take in the impressed look Emily gave her, clearly appreciating her knowledge of the subject, then the girl on the screen fought her assailant back with a well placed kick before dodging his knife and running away. "No, definitely not that kind of killer."
Emily chuckled, then adjusted back on the couch and they sat watching the movie together for a bit. Somehow the girl managed to escape and lock herself in her room, seemingly safe, only to have the hell scared out of her when the boyfriend suddenly showed up at the window.
"You've been watching for long?" Gillian asked, seeing as the boyfriend was dragged away by the police.
"No, not that long," Emily said, then scoffed. "It can't be that easy, can it? We're not even halfway through it."
"Well, it's a movie, Emily. I doubt a killer would wear something like that in real life, it seems highly impractical."
Emily chuckled and Gillian followed, meanwhile on the screen people were dealign with the aftermath of the failed assault and, Gillian found out, two more murders. The mood in the movie changed, no more upbeat action but tensed atmosphere, and when she glanced at Emily ready to ask if she could catch her up on what she had missed she found the girl next to her absently thoughtful.
"Emily?"
"Is it weird," the girl asked with a sigh, her eyes shying away from Gillian, "that I am watching a movie like this after what happened today?"
Gillian immediately went for the remote and paused the movie, scooting a little closer to her. Only then, as she looked around, Gillian realised Cal was nowhere to be seen and wondered where he had gone, but without that information she felt the responsibility to take over.
"It's just a movie, Emily. We watch them to be entertained, to be distracted and to forget about things we don't want to think about." She gently placed a hand on Emily's shoulder and waited for the girl to look up at her. "Don't know about you but five minutes of this and it was the first time I got that out of my mind."
"I guess it doesn't hurt when it's a good movie?"
"Well, let's see how it plays out first, uh?"
Emily nodded, a hint of smile on her lips reassuring Gillian, then she pressed play again.
"Hopefully we can get through this before Dad comes back," she sighed then. "You're right, it's impossible to watch a movie with him."
"Where is he anyway?" Gillian asked, then absently looked down at her empty hands. "I wish we had some popcorn!"
"He went to buy some food, get some take out for dinner. And I've already checked, no snacks in the house," she explained with great regret. "Maybe I should text him to buy some savoury stuff along with the ice cream."
"He's probably going to argue that it's all the same thing anyway."
"He will," Emily agreed while typing up the message on her phone. "But he's going to get what we want anyway."
Gillian chuckled and shook her head, well aware of the fact that she was absolutely right. She could almost picture Cal huffing and puffing, maybe already on his way back, grumbling something against them but still going back to get whatever they had asked for. They kept watching the movie for a while longer, exchanging theories and observation on the plot that was developing in a rather intriguing way: but as much as she was enjoying the movie, Gillian was almost hoping that it wasn't so damn engaging because she had been waiting for a good moment to ask Emily the million dollar question. So she had to cheat a little, saying that she had to go to the bathroom and asking Emily to pause the movie for a moment. When she came back, Emily was in the fridge getting some sodas for the both of them. She seemed ok, not much on her mind besides who the killer could be, and Gillian bit at her bottom lip feeling terrible for having to burst her bubble. But she felt like she had to, even without consulting with Cal first: no matter how distraught she had been back at the house she hadn't failed to notice Emily's shellshocked reaction, and as sure as she was that Cal had already intervened she felt sure enough that he wouldn't have minded some extra help.
"How are you doing Emily?" She asked then, her voice as gentle as possible so that Emily could see that she didn't have to answer if she didn't want to. "Are you ok?"
"Better, I guess," she answered with a small shrug, confirming to Gillian that Cal had already done most of the ground work. "The kids were all ok, we found four of them. I'm sure we'll find the last one too."
"I think we will," Gillian dared to agree, mostly because she was in desperate need of good news and happy endings. "Listen Emily…I'm sure your dad already told you but if there is anything you want to talk about, or if you would like to step back a little tomorrow we're here for you. You know that, right?"
"Yes, I do. But…I came to help, and I want to do that more than anything now." She sounded very determined, her voice steady, and Gillian realised that her intervention might have been mostly unnecessary. "But Dad said no more shop talk today, so…"
With that she handed Gillian one of the bottles and headed back to the couch, where Gillian followed thinking Cal had been absolutely right. They went back to watch the movie, wondering how it was possible that in a city under curfew because of a killer on the loose a bunch of teenagers could gather for a party after dark. Then, right when it looked like some kind of big final showdown was about to start, Emily suddenly grabbed the remote and paused the movie again, then she shifted on the seat and turned toward Gillian in one fluid move that looked scarily like one of the tricks out of her father's mannerism.
"I do have a question," she announced the obvious, then seemed to realise she might have started off a little too aggressive and softened her stance. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"I don't think it would be fair of me Emily."
"I know, but…I'm not even sure I should ask."
"At this point I think you really have to, don't you think?"
Emily looked up at her, her eyes big with appreciation and a bit of hope, then she nodded and leaned back on the couch needing to avoid eye contact for the next part.
"I was talking to Dad earlier. I asked him if you were ok because you were- I don't know, it looked like you were having a really hard time." Gillian wasn't surprised that she had noticed, Emily had always been high on empathy and she hadn't exactly done a good job at hiding how she felt then. Besides, she was her father's daughter. "Then we kept talking and I…kinda asked him how come you didn't have kids when you were married."
Somehow Gillian managed not to react, still worried that somehow the lack of reaction would give her away no matter what and thankful that Emily didn't have the courage to look at her while bringing up the topic. Her first thought was to take advantage of that and deflect, lie to Emily and make up some stories…but then she realised that that particular painful drawer had already been opened for the day, and that perhaps it might have done herself and Emily some good to tackle the topic head on. But first, she realised, she needed to know one thing.
She let out a small sigh and placed her hand on Emily's knee, waiting for the girl to make eye contact again before smiling and asking.
"What did your father say?"
"That-" Emily mumbled, somewhat shocked that Gillian seemed to be willing to play ball. "That he couldn't say. I'm not sure if that means that he doesn't know or wasn't allowed to."
"Neither, really." Gillian kept smiling, although she couldn't entirely fight back a sad curve on her lips. "He knows, but I never asked him to keep it to himself."
"I'm sorry Gillian, I shouldn't have asked, I-"
"No, it's ok Emily. It's not a huge secret, just…just something I don't like to talk about too much."
"You don't have to-"
"Honestly Emily, today of all days I think it might do me some good." The smile was persistent but still sad, yet it felt oddly relieving to know that she didn't have to pretend otherwise. "And don't worry about your father, ok?" Emily nodded, then they both settled a little closer as Gillian went on. "While I was married I was told I couldn't have children of my own." She paused, knowing that was the moment for the shocked reaction full of pity and pain. "Lots of big medical words, but that was the gist of it. Alec and I decided to adopt and we were given this little girl, a newborn baby. She was with us for a few weeks but then the biological mother changed her mind on the adoption and took her back."
"Oh my God Gillian! I am so sorry! I didn't-"
"It's ok Emily, nobody really knew besides your dad." Not something I wanted to advertise, she thought. "And it's been a while now. I can't say that I'm over it but it gets easier, with time. And yes, today seeing all those kids… But I'm ok, it's ok."
"I shouldn't have asked." Emily muttered in a low voice, looking down at her own hands. "To Dad, to you-"
"There's nothing wrong with asking when you care about people," Gillian tried to reassure her. "Your father knows that too, or he would have told you to let it go when you brought it up, don't you think?"
Emily shrugged, but the thought did find its way in her mind now that Gillan mentioned it. Her dad could have tried to deflect or tell her it was none of her business, and she knew how protective of Gillian he had always been. For a brief moment she thought about completing the puzzle, telling Gillian that it was a shame because she thought she would make a great mother, but thought better not to. Instead, she slowly leaned into the older woman and gently wrapped her arms around Gillian, not sure who was holding who but feeling like both of them were getting something out of the awkward embrace.
He needed time alone.
Time to process the events of the day, time to cleanse his mind of the images of those kids abandoned to himself, time to find a bar and drown some of that in a glass of something strong. He needed to take the darkness inside him away from Emily, to stop being terrified that Gillian might have been about to implode. He needed time to think, maybe put together a plan to send Emily back to Washington or to her mother and pretend he didn't care if she was hurt by it; he needed to stop being utterly lost in the fact that he was sure going through that would have been so much easier for all of them if only he and Gillian didn't have to hide.
So he had left, only after making sure Emily wasn't going to break down on him, although his daughter's inquiry had been hard to deal with. It wasn't his place to talk about it, not without having consulted with Gillian first, and even then he would have encouraged her not to share the story with Emily. But he had realised that either way he didn't have a say in it: he wasn't going to tell Emily about his partner's painful secrets, but he had no right to assume he knew how Gillian wanted to manage that particular information.
He hit the bar first but hadn't stayed long, the place buzzing with people talking about the big bust and certainly not helping with his desire to put some distance from the events of the day. Then he had gone for groceries, every now and then checking his phone in case Gillian or Emily would call or message with specific requests. That had come later, when he was at the Chinese restaurant waiting for his order, and even while vehemently protesting in his head he had gone back to get what the ladies wanted.
Then he had gone back, the backseat of the car invaded by bags and takeout boxes, wondering what kind of atmosphere was awaiting him and if junk food could make it any better. Eventually, Cal stopped the car and got out, retrieving the bags from the back seat before making his way to the door. He was trying to juggle the bags in his arms and free one hand to knock when he heard a noise, the last noise he would have expected to hear coming from that place after the day they've had.
It was a laugh.
Two actually, Gillian and Emily laughing in a cheerful duet that was a joy for his ears. Surprised, pleasantly surprised, Cal stepped back from the door and peeked through the window, looking inside and seeing them at the table, playing some sort of card game he couldn't recognise. They were having fun, carefree fun, laughing and talking to each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and he decided that a bit of melted ice cream and cold Chinese food was a very cheap price to pay for such an amazing show.
There will be some Cal and Gillian time next chapter, not what most of you might want but hopefully good and meaningful enough