Honor Thy Father
Summary: Alternate ending to the episode "Drive, He Said." The Girardi family must learn to cope when Will is killed in the line of duty. With one family member lost, and another about to be gained, Joan starts to question whether God really has been speaking to her, or if God is really there in the first place.
Disclaimer: I don't the characters, I'm not making any money off this, so don't sue me.
A/N: Review, pretty please? The sexy purple button down there at the bottom of the page is calling you.
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Helen sat on the living room couch, her head in her hands. She didn't care that there were police all over the house, or that Joan and Luke still weren't home from the Trimathalon that was supposed to have ended over an hour ago. She only cared that her husband was missing, and that so far no one had been able to find him. It was getting late. He should have been home by now.
She kept thinking back to the last time she'd heard his voice, and going over and over the conversation in her mind. She'd called to tell him that Joan had gotten her driver's license, and also to let him know that she had something important to talk to him about. She hadn't wanted to tell him over the phone that she thought she could be pregnant; she needed to see his face. She recalled quite vividly the tone of his voice when he'd replied, "I need to see your face, too." That semi-romantic statement was one of the last things he's said to her.
She shook her head, and wiped one stray tear from the corner of her eye before it had the chance to fall. She couldn't give up hope yet. She refused to. Will was out there, he was alive, and the police were going to find him. That was there job, wasn't it? No matter how much they disagreed with him, even disliked him, he was their cheif, and it was their job to find him. They had to. She couldn't go on if they didn't...
The phone rang, interrupting Helen's train of thought. She looked up sharply, glancing over at Toni to see what she should do. Toni waited a minute, until she and the other two policemen had tapped into the phone call, and then nodded. Helen picked up the phone.
"Hello?" she asked in a shakey, yet hopeful voice. She wanted so badly for it to be Will's voice on the other line, and when it wasn't, she was too overwhelmed to even listen to this other police officer who's voice she didn't recognize. She handed to phone to Toni, who listened carefully. After a few minutes, she hung up the phone, sat down next to Helen, and took both of her hands. It was then that Helen knew for sure that her husband wasn't coming home.
"No," she begged, tears streaming quietly down her face. "Oh, please, God, no."
"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Girardi," Toni said, her own voice quavering with emotion. "Will was... he was a good cop, a good chief, and a good man."
"Then why did this happen?" Helen demanded. "How? Tell me how this happened to him, to us."
Toni hesitated, then spoke. "You know that he pulled this guy over without his gun on an otheriwise routine moving violation, thinking that it was the judge, and that this guy took him hostage. Will had been trying to talk him down, I guess, like every cop is trained to do in that situation. What we think happened is that Will distracted the guy long enough to turn the wheel hard enough to send the car into a tailspin. A shot was fired, and then the car hit a pole. Will... didn't make it. Maybe I shouldn't have told you all that," she added, sighing.
Helen shook her head. "I asked. I wanted to know. I can understand that he was trying his best to get out of a really bad situation, but... how could he have thought that this was the answer? He had to have known that he might not survive. How could he have taken the chance? What was he thinking?"
"My guess is that he was thinking of you, and the kids," Toni said. "He probably had no idea how long it would take or if he would be able to talk this guy down. He saw his oppurtunity, and he went for it. I'm sorry that it turned out this way, I really am."
"Yeah," Helen said, "So am I." She sighed, closing her eyes to block out everything around her. Without opening them, she asked, "How soon can you get everyone out of here? It'll be bad enough, when I have to tell the kids. I don't want a lot of cops swarming the house when Joan and Luke get home."
Toni nodded understandingly. "I'll start getting everyone out now. If you need anything, you call, okay?"
"Okay," Helen agreed, doing her best to force a smile. What she really needed was her husband, but they couldn't give her that. Knowing she had to stay strong for her children, she got up and went outside, into the shed where Kevin was looking over the boat that he'd been working on with his father. Helen paused, bracing herself so she wouldn't cry in front of her son, and went in.
"Did they find him?" Kevin asked, looking up and wheeling himself toward his mother.
Helen nodded. "Yes, they... they found him. But Kevin, he..." She took a deep breath, and said it. "He's gone."
Kevin's eyes widened. "No. No, that can't be right, he can't be..."
"I know, honey," Helen said, leaning down to give him a hug. By the time they pulled apart, both of them were crying, and both were trying to hide it.
"Mom, the last thing I said to him... We had a fight, and I... He thought that I think he's a racist," Kevin said helplessly. "I defended the editorial, because the facts were there and they were right, but they were just so taken out of context and I knew that and I should have said it but I didn't and... He died thinking that I hate him."
"Oh, no, baby," Helen replied, shaking her head. "He didn't think you hated him. He could never think that." She sighed, leaning against a table. "The night of your accident, you and your father had a fight. Do you remember that?"
Kevin shook his head. "No. No, I don't remember."
"Well, you did," Helen told him. "That night, we were in the hospital, just waiting and praying, and he turned to me and asked, 'Kevin knows I love him, right?'"
"You told him yes, right, Mom?" Kevin asked.
"Of course," Helen nodded. "And that's what I'm telling you. Your father knew that you loved him, Kevin, and he loved you, too, more than you can know. Don't ever doubt that, okay?"
"Okay," Kevin agreed. "I'll try not to."
"Come on," Helen said, tousling his hair like she'd done so many times when he was little. "Let's go inside and wait for Joan and Luke."
He nodded, and followed her into the house, which now was empty. Helen sat down on the kitchen table, propping her head up against her hands. Kevin wheeled himself next to her, and put a hand on her shoulder, letting it rest there without saying a word.
It was only a few minutes before the door slammed open and shut, and they could hear Luke's voice shouting, "If anyone cares, I won the Trimathalon!"
"That's great, honey," Helen called, her voice cracking. "We're in the kitchen." She tried to smile as her youngest son and only daughter came in, but they immediately knew something was wrong.
"Mom, Kevin, no offense, but you both look awful. What's going on?" Joan questioned.
Helen sighed, and sat up, wondering how she could possibly tell them this when she couldn't quite grasp it herself. Kevin opened for her with, "Maybe you guys should sit down."
Apprehensively, Luke and Joan both took seats across the table from their mother and brother. Helen inhaled slowly and said, "Guys, there's been... an accident. Your father was just doing his job, and he pulled someone over, and... he was killed."
Joan and Luke looked at each other, at first not understanding what their mother had just said. They looked back at Helen and Kevin's faces, and suddenly it hit them. "Daddy..." Joan whispered. "No, you're wrong, he's not..."
"He's not coming back," Luke said disbelievingly.
"No," Joan denied.
Helen got up and pulled them both into a hug. Kevin followed. They were all laced into one big family hug, doing their best to comfort each other. All four remaining Girardis were painfully aware of the person missing from this picture.
Summary: Alternate ending to the episode "Drive, He Said." The Girardi family must learn to cope when Will is killed in the line of duty. With one family member lost, and another about to be gained, Joan starts to question whether God really has been speaking to her, or if God is really there in the first place.
Disclaimer: I don't the characters, I'm not making any money off this, so don't sue me.
A/N: Review, pretty please? The sexy purple button down there at the bottom of the page is calling you.
****************
Helen sat on the living room couch, her head in her hands. She didn't care that there were police all over the house, or that Joan and Luke still weren't home from the Trimathalon that was supposed to have ended over an hour ago. She only cared that her husband was missing, and that so far no one had been able to find him. It was getting late. He should have been home by now.
She kept thinking back to the last time she'd heard his voice, and going over and over the conversation in her mind. She'd called to tell him that Joan had gotten her driver's license, and also to let him know that she had something important to talk to him about. She hadn't wanted to tell him over the phone that she thought she could be pregnant; she needed to see his face. She recalled quite vividly the tone of his voice when he'd replied, "I need to see your face, too." That semi-romantic statement was one of the last things he's said to her.
She shook her head, and wiped one stray tear from the corner of her eye before it had the chance to fall. She couldn't give up hope yet. She refused to. Will was out there, he was alive, and the police were going to find him. That was there job, wasn't it? No matter how much they disagreed with him, even disliked him, he was their cheif, and it was their job to find him. They had to. She couldn't go on if they didn't...
The phone rang, interrupting Helen's train of thought. She looked up sharply, glancing over at Toni to see what she should do. Toni waited a minute, until she and the other two policemen had tapped into the phone call, and then nodded. Helen picked up the phone.
"Hello?" she asked in a shakey, yet hopeful voice. She wanted so badly for it to be Will's voice on the other line, and when it wasn't, she was too overwhelmed to even listen to this other police officer who's voice she didn't recognize. She handed to phone to Toni, who listened carefully. After a few minutes, she hung up the phone, sat down next to Helen, and took both of her hands. It was then that Helen knew for sure that her husband wasn't coming home.
"No," she begged, tears streaming quietly down her face. "Oh, please, God, no."
"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Girardi," Toni said, her own voice quavering with emotion. "Will was... he was a good cop, a good chief, and a good man."
"Then why did this happen?" Helen demanded. "How? Tell me how this happened to him, to us."
Toni hesitated, then spoke. "You know that he pulled this guy over without his gun on an otheriwise routine moving violation, thinking that it was the judge, and that this guy took him hostage. Will had been trying to talk him down, I guess, like every cop is trained to do in that situation. What we think happened is that Will distracted the guy long enough to turn the wheel hard enough to send the car into a tailspin. A shot was fired, and then the car hit a pole. Will... didn't make it. Maybe I shouldn't have told you all that," she added, sighing.
Helen shook her head. "I asked. I wanted to know. I can understand that he was trying his best to get out of a really bad situation, but... how could he have thought that this was the answer? He had to have known that he might not survive. How could he have taken the chance? What was he thinking?"
"My guess is that he was thinking of you, and the kids," Toni said. "He probably had no idea how long it would take or if he would be able to talk this guy down. He saw his oppurtunity, and he went for it. I'm sorry that it turned out this way, I really am."
"Yeah," Helen said, "So am I." She sighed, closing her eyes to block out everything around her. Without opening them, she asked, "How soon can you get everyone out of here? It'll be bad enough, when I have to tell the kids. I don't want a lot of cops swarming the house when Joan and Luke get home."
Toni nodded understandingly. "I'll start getting everyone out now. If you need anything, you call, okay?"
"Okay," Helen agreed, doing her best to force a smile. What she really needed was her husband, but they couldn't give her that. Knowing she had to stay strong for her children, she got up and went outside, into the shed where Kevin was looking over the boat that he'd been working on with his father. Helen paused, bracing herself so she wouldn't cry in front of her son, and went in.
"Did they find him?" Kevin asked, looking up and wheeling himself toward his mother.
Helen nodded. "Yes, they... they found him. But Kevin, he..." She took a deep breath, and said it. "He's gone."
Kevin's eyes widened. "No. No, that can't be right, he can't be..."
"I know, honey," Helen said, leaning down to give him a hug. By the time they pulled apart, both of them were crying, and both were trying to hide it.
"Mom, the last thing I said to him... We had a fight, and I... He thought that I think he's a racist," Kevin said helplessly. "I defended the editorial, because the facts were there and they were right, but they were just so taken out of context and I knew that and I should have said it but I didn't and... He died thinking that I hate him."
"Oh, no, baby," Helen replied, shaking her head. "He didn't think you hated him. He could never think that." She sighed, leaning against a table. "The night of your accident, you and your father had a fight. Do you remember that?"
Kevin shook his head. "No. No, I don't remember."
"Well, you did," Helen told him. "That night, we were in the hospital, just waiting and praying, and he turned to me and asked, 'Kevin knows I love him, right?'"
"You told him yes, right, Mom?" Kevin asked.
"Of course," Helen nodded. "And that's what I'm telling you. Your father knew that you loved him, Kevin, and he loved you, too, more than you can know. Don't ever doubt that, okay?"
"Okay," Kevin agreed. "I'll try not to."
"Come on," Helen said, tousling his hair like she'd done so many times when he was little. "Let's go inside and wait for Joan and Luke."
He nodded, and followed her into the house, which now was empty. Helen sat down on the kitchen table, propping her head up against her hands. Kevin wheeled himself next to her, and put a hand on her shoulder, letting it rest there without saying a word.
It was only a few minutes before the door slammed open and shut, and they could hear Luke's voice shouting, "If anyone cares, I won the Trimathalon!"
"That's great, honey," Helen called, her voice cracking. "We're in the kitchen." She tried to smile as her youngest son and only daughter came in, but they immediately knew something was wrong.
"Mom, Kevin, no offense, but you both look awful. What's going on?" Joan questioned.
Helen sighed, and sat up, wondering how she could possibly tell them this when she couldn't quite grasp it herself. Kevin opened for her with, "Maybe you guys should sit down."
Apprehensively, Luke and Joan both took seats across the table from their mother and brother. Helen inhaled slowly and said, "Guys, there's been... an accident. Your father was just doing his job, and he pulled someone over, and... he was killed."
Joan and Luke looked at each other, at first not understanding what their mother had just said. They looked back at Helen and Kevin's faces, and suddenly it hit them. "Daddy..." Joan whispered. "No, you're wrong, he's not..."
"He's not coming back," Luke said disbelievingly.
"No," Joan denied.
Helen got up and pulled them both into a hug. Kevin followed. They were all laced into one big family hug, doing their best to comfort each other. All four remaining Girardis were painfully aware of the person missing from this picture.