Told in a Garden
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, concepts, or names in here. The only thing I own is the idea expressed in this story. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: Suppose one random decision gives rise to two separate but parallel universes. What might happen in those two universes?
Lisabella's arms went around him in a gentle hug. "Dad, it wasn't your fault. You said yourself she was stubborn about things, and if she'd decided to be stubborn that morning there was nothing you could do to change it." Her father's muscles were still tense, though. She could tell that he still blamed himself, and she wondered what more she could say. "You didn't twist one arm up behind her back and march her out to the car, did you? And belt her in and start the engine for her? You didn't pull the trigger on that gun. Dad, it's not your fault."
Horatio turned his head slightly towards his daughter, and raised one eyebrow. "Bella, I know in here," tapping his temple, "that it's not my fault. But here," resting one hand above his heart, "it's a different story. If we hadn't argued, she wouldn't have left for work so early. And if we hadn't argued, she wouldn't have stopped for coffee, and that one stray round wouldn't have hit her. All because of a stupid argument!"
"What about the rest of the team? Did they blame you?"
"No, they never did. We were all so devastated, we barely even discussed what she'd been doing there. By the time it did come up, we were trying to put ourselves back together as a functioning team. We really all just pulled together into one family...just a family with a Calleigh-shaped hole in it."
"So has anyone ever blamed you for it, other than yourself?"
"No, no one has. But over the last fourteen years, I've looked back so often and wished that I'd acted earlier on what I felt for her, and wished that things had happened differently that last morning. There have been so many times I've wished I could take back everything I said then, but I never can. And sometimes it just tears me apart that the last things I said to her were something mean and hateful."
"Oh, Dad. I wish I could remember her better, all I can remember is these little, almost like photographs or freeze-frame shots, usually of the three of us together. But I do remember that I never felt anything but happy, and safe, and loved. I know that she loved you, and I'm sure that if she could, she'd tell you that she'd never blamed you for what happened."
"I know that, Bella. But how do I stop blaming myself?" He sat back against the bench and looked up at the sky. The sun had shifted while he and Lisabella had sat talking, but the tree still shaded them from the worst of it. "How do I not blame myself?"
The hum of the bumble bees droned louder, as the breeze died and the leaves of the almond tree ceased their whispering dance. One particular bumblebee buzzed away from the lavender blossom it had been investigating. Taking to the air in a dizzying spiral, it bumped gently against Horatio's face, circled in front of him, and then flew off. Suddenly he felt a once- familiar love, a love he had not felt in fourteen years, spreading from that one careless contact of the bee against his face and surrounding him. He felt somehow more at peace now, whether it was from talking with someone else about what he had kept buried for so long, or from something more than real, something outside his understanding, he did not know.
"Dad, you OK?"
He smiled. "I am now."
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, concepts, or names in here. The only thing I own is the idea expressed in this story. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: Suppose one random decision gives rise to two separate but parallel universes. What might happen in those two universes?
Lisabella's arms went around him in a gentle hug. "Dad, it wasn't your fault. You said yourself she was stubborn about things, and if she'd decided to be stubborn that morning there was nothing you could do to change it." Her father's muscles were still tense, though. She could tell that he still blamed himself, and she wondered what more she could say. "You didn't twist one arm up behind her back and march her out to the car, did you? And belt her in and start the engine for her? You didn't pull the trigger on that gun. Dad, it's not your fault."
Horatio turned his head slightly towards his daughter, and raised one eyebrow. "Bella, I know in here," tapping his temple, "that it's not my fault. But here," resting one hand above his heart, "it's a different story. If we hadn't argued, she wouldn't have left for work so early. And if we hadn't argued, she wouldn't have stopped for coffee, and that one stray round wouldn't have hit her. All because of a stupid argument!"
"What about the rest of the team? Did they blame you?"
"No, they never did. We were all so devastated, we barely even discussed what she'd been doing there. By the time it did come up, we were trying to put ourselves back together as a functioning team. We really all just pulled together into one family...just a family with a Calleigh-shaped hole in it."
"So has anyone ever blamed you for it, other than yourself?"
"No, no one has. But over the last fourteen years, I've looked back so often and wished that I'd acted earlier on what I felt for her, and wished that things had happened differently that last morning. There have been so many times I've wished I could take back everything I said then, but I never can. And sometimes it just tears me apart that the last things I said to her were something mean and hateful."
"Oh, Dad. I wish I could remember her better, all I can remember is these little, almost like photographs or freeze-frame shots, usually of the three of us together. But I do remember that I never felt anything but happy, and safe, and loved. I know that she loved you, and I'm sure that if she could, she'd tell you that she'd never blamed you for what happened."
"I know that, Bella. But how do I stop blaming myself?" He sat back against the bench and looked up at the sky. The sun had shifted while he and Lisabella had sat talking, but the tree still shaded them from the worst of it. "How do I not blame myself?"
The hum of the bumble bees droned louder, as the breeze died and the leaves of the almond tree ceased their whispering dance. One particular bumblebee buzzed away from the lavender blossom it had been investigating. Taking to the air in a dizzying spiral, it bumped gently against Horatio's face, circled in front of him, and then flew off. Suddenly he felt a once- familiar love, a love he had not felt in fourteen years, spreading from that one careless contact of the bee against his face and surrounding him. He felt somehow more at peace now, whether it was from talking with someone else about what he had kept buried for so long, or from something more than real, something outside his understanding, he did not know.
"Dad, you OK?"
He smiled. "I am now."