Whew the mental health has sucked, well, remember Toby's friend with the giant balls?
Anyway, here's an update I should have had a week ago.
Sylvester was having a bad dream.
Florence awoke – she'd heard once that people born with the kind of reproductive systems that give birth were hyperaware of high pitched sounds, to ensure that they'd wake up when their baby cried. She'd noticed that since Tilly was born, even though she'd spent almost no time around her, that sense was heightened. Maybe it somehow kicked into gear when she became a mother.
That still felt odd. Strange. Wrong. Florence Tipton – Dodd, somebody's mother.
She rolled over. She could see Sylvester in the dark, curled up as if attempting to protect himself. She thought she could remember Paige saying something about Walter having dreams about his sister. Florence wondered if Sylvester was also having dreams about Megan.
She rose to her knees, a hand gently on his shoulder, hoping she wouldn't startle him awake. She slowly rubbed his arm, shoulder to elbow and back again, wanting to speak but not knowing exactly what to say. Eventually, she opted with a quiet "Shhhh."
"Shhhh." Shoulder to elbow, elbow to shoulder. "Shhhh," and repeat. Again. Again. Again.
Eventually, he went silent and still, the bed creaking as his body relaxed. Florence stayed with him another few minutes, and then slipped off the mattress.
It was a funny set of circumstances, Florence thought, that led to her flying back to Los Angeles alone. Just that morning she was running chemical tests on evidence found in the Armstrong home and during Lauren Armstrong's autopsy. Now, she was carrying the split sample back home, to see if an independent lab would find the same results.
She also was going home because they still needed Sylvester there, to help Walter with his tasks. And when Sylvester admitted that morning that he'd had a nightmare about Tilly, Florence knew she had to be the one to provide him with reassurance that the baby was alright.
It was daunting. What if she showed up and Tilly wasn't alright? Sure, the hospital would call, sure Cabe and Allie would let them know…but what if something happened just minutes before she walked in? She wasn't strong enough to deal with that. She'd always thought that if the girl didn't make it, she'd find out from Sylvester, the only one she trusted to break that news in a way that wouldn't make Florence herself want to die.
So now she was in the hospital, in the room, a nurse handing her the tiny bundle that contained her daughter. "The doctor will be in to talk to you in a few minutes," the nurse said, and although she knew that was routine, Florence's mind instantly went to panic mode. Doctor? What was wrong? What was he coming to tell her?"
"Okay. Thank you," she managed, trying to make her voice sound as normal as possible.
Florence held Tilly against her chest. The baby was coming along. She looked like a baby now. She didn't have chubby cheeks, but they were getting there. She at least had the appearance of cheeks, now. Her arms were thin, spindly was the word that came to mind. Florence could still cup the entirety of her daughter's head in her hand.
But she was alive. Some details of her birth were entirely blocked from Florence's memory. Like her ring cutting into the side of her finger as Walter held her hand. She hadn't even noticed that until later. But she could remember some details with agonizing clarity. And other than the fear, there was one thing she remembered particularly well.
Toby examining Tilly. Florence, Walter, and Paige waiting. And then Toby speaking.
"Alive."
Alive.
That was the one thing that remained consistent over the past few months. Tilly was alive. And right now she was alive in Florence's arms, her mother the closest person to her of the population in the world. Florence still felt guilty that the emotion that showed itself the strongest wasn't an overwhelming love.
But she was glad that Tilly was alive. She was glad to feel her warmth through the blanket. It was…reassuring.
And looking at Tilly now, Florence could see Sylvester in her. She could see herself too, sure, but Sylvester shined through. That gave her a warm feeling. This was Sylvester's child. Her Sylvester's child. Somehow, that was easier to think about. It was easier to feel something.
There was a knock on the side of the door, and then the curtain was pushed aside to reveal a very tall man who appeared to be in his early forties. "Hi there, Mrs. Dodd," he said. "I'm Thomas Suchyta, one of Tilly's doctors."
"Nice to meet you," she said. "I'm Florence, one of Tilly's parents." It was half a joke. Half an assertion.
He chuckled. "It's good to see you. It's been a bit odd the last few days, she normally has one of you here all the time."
Florence appreciated his 'one of you.' Others might have said 'she normally has her father here.'
Dr. Suchyta sat across from Florence and Tilly, explaining the baby's progress, her milestones, what they were still waiting on, what they were looking for. He specified that they were hoping, should things go well, to send her home around what her due date would have been.
It was supposed to be encouraging. But it just gave Florence a pang. She was supposed to be still pregnant. Every little movement that Tilly made, she was supposed to be feeling inside, calling people to lay their hands on her stomach.
"Is there anything in particular that's concerning you?" Suchyta said. "Any worries that I can do my best to minimize or explain?"
"She doesn't know me," she said. "I know that sounds shallow. That isn't my biggest concern. I just want her to live. And thrive. But…she doesn't know me." It was her own fault. She knew that. But she still hated it.
"She will," said Suchyta. "She'll start recognizing your voice, and your smell."
"Does she know my husband?"
"She appears to," Suchyta said. "But hey, it's okay that she doesn't know you yet," he added quickly when she dropped her eyes. "So many people adopt children; most of them don't know their parents this young. And they're just as much their parents' children as Tilly is yours, or that my sons are mine."
Florence certainly knew that. Tad was Happy and Toby's son. He knew he was adopted, but not everyone who knew him did. It didn't matter. His parents were his parents. And then there was Walter and Ralph. Ralph was Walter's son as much as anyone was their parent's child. And while Tad did come into Happy and Toby's life as a baby, Ralph didn't meet Walter until he was almost nine years old
"I know all of this," she said. "But adoptive parents are there for their kids as soon as they come into their lives. Tilly was born nearly three months ago. And I haven't been here. And I don't…I am…I haven't visited, you know. Much."
"So, if I may give a personal example, my ex – wife," Suchyta said, "she and I got married young, had our kids young, then grew apart. She started dating someone else after the divorce, and he left her when she found out she was pregnant. When their daughter was four months old, he came back into her life. She asked me – we are amicable – if I thought she should let him see the baby. And you know what I told her?"
"What?"
"That it's better to give him the second chance now. If he leaves again when Keltie was seven months old, she's not hurt. If he shows back up and then leaves when she's seven years old, she'll feel abandoned." He smiled at Florence. "You haven't been here much, fine. But Tilly doesn't know that. She's not going to remember that. She's not going to remember any of this. You still have time to bond with her. And years down the road…it won't matter to her that you weren't around the first few weeks of her life. By the time she's old enough to understand what love is, she'll know you love her."
But I don't, Florence thought. Or…do I?
They'd talked at the support group about how depression can numb a person, make it harder for them to enjoy things that they used to, make them unmotivated, make them feel things in a more muted way than they had before.
Florence looked down at Tilly. "Maybe I do love you," she whispered when Suchyta had gone. "Maybe I just can't feel it yet."
Coming up in the next few chapters: more Ralph/Patty/Daisy, a tie from events in their lives back to Scorpion, a one on one scene with Walter and Tim, and a Paige/Florence conversation that I'm really excited about.
And yes, this fic has an ending; I'm not just going to string the characters along indefinitely. You might be able to guess how - or at least at what point - it will conclude, and you might not, but we're getting there. Not quite yet, though.
