Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.
A/N: A ficlet from Ambrose's point of view, drawing on a comment in Mr. Monk and the Three Pies.
You Were Strong
by RRP
You were strong.
I watched you carry the box from the car, and drop it on the grass. I remember watching you wash your hands, and scrubbing your face, then going into the kitchen to kiss mother.
The same words, every night.
"Good evening, dear."
Except, that time, you added something.
"I'm going to put a swing set together for the boys, like we talked about."
And so you did.
You were strong. I didn't doubt that. I never did.
And he was brave. I remember watching Adrian walk off the porch, and stand next to you on the sidewalk. I couldn't do it.
He drank it all in, as you put the swing set together. He followed every bolt with his eyes, while I watched your strong hands. Adrian smiled delightedly as the swing set took shape. He grinned impishly at you, and you winked at him.
He was brave. I wasn't brave enough to smile like that.
You were strong. I remember.
You finished, and I looked at you.
"Try it out, boys." You urged.
Adrian touched the frame with his finger tips, and whispered to you. But I could hear him.
"That was fun. Thanks, Dad." Then he fled back inside the house.
He was so brave.
I wouldn't have touched it.
You picked me up off the porch, and carried me across the yard.
I remember screaming. I was so afraid, of everything. It was a black fist that gripped my heart and caught my breath. I closed my eyes and begged you to put me down.
I was so sorry– sorry I couldn't be brave like Adrian.
I wished I could be as strong as you.
Then one day you were gone.
You walked out of our lives and never came back. Did you look back? Did you wonder?
Was it my fault?
Mother wouldn't talk about you. She tried to pretend you had never existed. She took the pictures down every morning, and I would follow her and put them all back up.
She yelled a lot that year.
Was she mad because of me? Or was she mad at you?
Was it my fault?
I set an extra plate every night, hoping you would come back.
Adrian still washed it before he put it away, even though we never used it.
No one ever knew I left the house that day.
Mother was at work. She had to work, since you were gone.
Adrian was at school.
The babysitter called to say she would be late. Mother never got the message. I didn't give it to her.
I wanted to be alone.
You had been gone for a year.
The swing set was still in the front yard. Mother tried to get someone to take it down. Adrian wouldn't let her.
I went outside. I took a bucket and soap and towels.
I scrubbed the seat of the swing, until I could see my reflection in the shining rubber.
Then I got on and pumped my legs.
My fingers trembled until I almost couldn't hold the chain, I was so scared. It was so high, and fast, and the air smelled like damp leaves. I hated that smell. It smelled dirty.
And every time my feet touched the sky, I closed my eyes and begged.
"Daddy, come home. I'll be good, I promise. I promise I'll be brave, I'll be strong. I promise."
When I stopped, the tears had dried on my face.
And you still didn't come.
I took the bucket and towels inside. I waited for the babysitter.
I never told anyone.
You never came back.
Was it my fault?
You were strong, Father. Adrian was brave.
I wish I was.