Title: Mango
Rating: PG-13 (some violence, angst, a couple f-bombs)
Characters: Charlie Crews, Dani Reese, Kevin Tidwell, Ted Earley, a few OCs
Pairing: Crews/Reese
Summary: Crews and Reese, five years post-series. Life is changing.
Spoilers/Time Period: Set five years after One. (May 2014)
Disclaimer: Most of the characters (sans the Ayers) aren't mine, but the situation is.
Chapter Three: Angels
Jake's raggedy head pulls up slowly as the door to his cell opens. As soon as his eyes meet Dani Reese's, though, he scrambles for the back corner, pulling his knees up to protect his chest.
"I didn't mean it, Dani," he immediately starts rambling. "I fucked up. I was fucked up. You know what that's like… Please, Dani."
"That's really what you wanna do right now, Jake? Pull the junkie card?"
"I'm just sayin' none of us, no, none of us are saints." His knees are bouncing and his hands are shaking.
Dani squats down to his level, her eyes deathly hard. "Katie was."
Jake's face crumples, and he looks away, preparing for a blow that never comes.
"God takes his angels early," Jake eeps, with the conviction of a child raised in the house of a preacher.
Dani slams her hand down on the metal cot next to Jake's head. He flinches.
"You took her, Jake."
"I didn't!"
"You did, Jake. You left Daniel without a mother. Took your sister's life. How's that feel? She loved you, no matter what, saved your life a million times. And this is how you repay her?"
"Dani," Jake moans pitifully, rocking back and forth.
She stands up and looks disgusted. She takes several calming breaths and walks away.
"That's it?" Charlie asks softly as she reaches him in the doorway.
"Violence towards others is violence towards myself," she says ironically. "He's not worth it."
Charlie nods, squeezing her shoulder. "I want to talk to him."
"I'll wait for you in the car. I'm driving."
The softest hint of a sad smile passes over Charlie's face. "Okay."
Once Dani's gone, Charlie approaches Jake.
"Stand up," he orders.
Jake pauses, fear in his eyes.
"Stand up," he repeats, tone soft but brooking no argument.
Jake does as he's told. His legs are unsteady, but a hand on the wall gives him enough support. Crews fishes in his pocket and pulls out an orange. He hands it to Jake, who eyes it warily.
"N-not hungry, Detective Crews."
"Take it," Charlie urges.
"No, thank you."
"I grew it myself. In my orange grove. Well, in our grove. Y'know, fifty-fifty, the whole marriage thing. She's not as into it, though. Take it."
Jake finally takes the orange but makes no move to peel it.
"I'd eat it," Crews says conversationally. "No fruit where you're going."
"W-where's that? Hell?" Jake says, gripping his shaky hand around the orange.
"Prison, Jake. Much worse than hell. In hell, you're dead; in prison, you want to be. I don't know for how long you're going, or what type. We'll let the DA sort that out. Doesn't matter in the long run, two years, twenty years… Every day feels like the first, like you're never getting out. I do know one thing for sure: you'll never see Daniel again. Dani and I will make sure of that."
Jake hangs his head again.
"Goodbye, Jake."
***
The two days after they get the news, Tuesday and Wednesday, they just go through the motions at work. They get up. Dani pukes. They go to work, Dani pukes. They meet at home where Noor, who's spent the last few nights, has dinner waiting. Dani eats what she can, and then she calls to talk to Daniel. Jamie has all but banned them from the house since Monday night, claiming he needs time with his son. It makes Dani antsy, but they respect his wishes. Later, she'll wonder if things would have been different if they hadn't.
***
"Reese."
Charlie looks up as Dani answers her phone. It's Thursday evening and they're in the living room reading, stretched out on the couch, her feet in his lap, his hand absently rubbing her ankles as he reads. Listening to the person on the other end, Dani slowly sits up straight, the color draining from her face.
"I understand." Her voice has never been more devoid of emotion. "Thank you. We'll be right there."
She clicks off the phone and then sits for a solid three seconds, staring at it. Finally, quick as lightning, her entire demeanor shift. She stands and hurls her phone across the room, where it shatters. The noise brings Noor to the top of the stairs.
"Dani?" Charlie ventures.
"Fucking bastard," she says through clenched teeth.
"Dani?" Noor asks, making her way down the stairs.
"Jamie put a bullet in his head."
"What?!" Noor hisses.
"Three hours ago. D was in the other room."
"Did he…"
"Ask questions in the car, Crews. We have to get him out of there, now."
She's already going towards the garage, towards the keys hanging by the door. She pauses and turns back to her mother.
"Mom, can you get D's room ready? And he's probably going to be starving."
Noor nods, and then adds something Charlie can't understand in Farsi. The tone, though, implies "Be careful".
"Dani," Charlie tries again as he slides into the passenger seat. "Did Daniel see…"
"I don't know," Dani admits, throwing the car into reverse. "But he definitely heard. Charlie, he called 911."
Charlie thinks back to the very serious, frequent conversations between Dani and Little D about the importance of dialing 911, what to do and say. Though they always ended with tickles, the lessons made an impression.
A few moments of silence pass over the car.
"Do you remember where the wills are?" she asks.
"Linen closet, back room. Why?"
"So no social worker tries to stand between us and Daniel."
***
It hits her again, viscerally, so much more overwhelming than the frequent morning sickness that has plagued her last several weeks. A sob catches in her throat, and she stifles it only for fear of waking the finally sleeping boy in her lap. She buries her face in Daniel's thick, wavy blond hair, cursing her suddenly rampant hormones.
No, no. She has a right to be devastated; her best friend, the person who, next to her mother, she has loved the longest in her life, is gone, stolen by cocaine and stupidity and Kate's heart-breaking inability to give up on her beloved little brother. Dani has cursed Katie's devotion before, but it was part of the reason she is alive today. Jake, however, abused that love, and stole her life.
And now Little D is without a mother and the child Katie had been so excited to meet will never know her.
Daniel's soft lashes flutter against his tan cheek; he's dreaming. Dani can only hope they are sweet, and not of the gunshot he most definitely heard when his father took his own life. They are Jamie's cheeks, Katie's lashes, mixed into D and their only legacy.
"Hi," Charlie says softly, his voice barely audible as he attempts to let Daniel keep sleeping. His long fingers gently cup her cheek, his eyes searching hers, which are puffy and swollen from crying.
"I finally got a hold of Rachel. She'll be over soon."
Dani starts to shift, trying to figure out how to maneuver out from under the sleeping six-year-old. It's much harder than it was when he was a toddler.
"No," Charlie shakes his head. "Stay. Rest. Your mom said you've had him out here all afternoon. How long has he been asleep?"
"An hour at the most."
"You doing okay?"
She nods softly.
"Get some sleep," he suggests, leaning over and pressing a kiss into her forehead. Two years of marriage, five years together, and seven years since they first met, and Dani is still surprised by how comfortable she is with his gentleness and affection.
Her eyes feel heavy, weary from the crying and lack of sleep, and the general fatigue she's told is normal in the first trimester. Her eyes drift close as he kisses her again, and she thinks that first trimester is a phrase she never really expected to be familiar with. She hears Charlie lean over to kiss D's head too as she feels sleep finally overtaking her, lulled by D's steady breathing against her chest and Charlie's comforting presence.
***
"Uncle Charlie," Rachel sighs with relief as Charlie opens the front door, blessedly unharmed. She moves to embrace him, then steps away, puzzled at the darkened foyer. "Is everything okay? You sounded so serious on the phone."
He puts a finger to his lips with a sad smile and leads her into the house.
"Dani and Danny are sleeping."
As they pass by the couch, the moonlight paints Dani Reese's and Daniel Ayers's faces with a pale glow. Stepping lightly, Rachel Seybolt follows Charlie into the kitchen, where he offers her a glass of water.
"Charlie, what's going on? Why is Little D here? Shouldn't he be with his dad at a time like this?"
There's a hard set to Charlie's jaw, but a sadness in his eyes.
"Jamie Ayers killed himself yesterday afternoon. He went into his room, locked the door, and shot himself. Little Danny was playing two rooms over."
"Oh my god," Rachel says, casting her eyes over to Daniel with a new, deeper look of sympathy and understanding. Victims and witnesses.
"The uniforms called us and we got D out of there. He had called 911 like Dani showed him." He pauses. "We're named in Katie's and Jamie's wills as Daniel's guardians. Children's services granted us temporary custody this morning. We expect to make it permanent some time next week or the week after."
"Oh, Charlie. This is huge."
Charlie nods, finally tearing his eyes away from his wife and her godson. "There's more. Dani's pregnant. Ten weeks. We found out a month ago and we were waiting to tell people to be sure…"
He trails off, unsure of how to continue.
"Wow. Anything you need…"
"Stay over for a few days? The funeral's tomorrow, and we could use all the extra hands we can get. Katie's funeral, I mean. Jamie's is Monday. We're taking D tomorrow, but not Monday. Dani's mom has moved in to help, and Ted is just around the corner, but…"
"Right, of course. I'll get my stuff tomorrow.
"Thanks, Rachel."
"How are you holding up? This is a lot to handle."
"I'm just worried about Dani. Well, both of them."
***
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Her best friend reduced to a seven by seven box of ash, just as she'd asked. For the best, probably, so Daniel would have no opportunity to see her mangled body. Still. The simple marble box, heavy though it is, is too light to be Katie's legacy, even paired with the fifty pounds of sweet little boy now resting in Charlie's arms.
Ted, Olivia, Rachel and Noor all stand behind Dani, Charlie, and Little D. The latter is in the new suit Noor bought for him, matching perfectly with his Uncle Charlie. The funeral had been small, but rough. Katie left a big impression on those in her life. Dani's officers offered to show up to support their sergeant but were politely declined.
Even fewer went with them to the cemetery. The only other mourners present are Daniel's wheelchair-bound paternal grandparents and their nurses. The minister offers some words, but few are actually paying attention. The urn is slowly lowered into the earth. Daniel is too shell-shocked to do anything more than cling alternately to Crews or Reese and stare blankly ahead. Dani may be crying, but she has her sunglasses on so no one can tell.
Afterwards, the gathered mourners return to Charlie's house for dinner. There, the others try their best to occupy Daniel as the newly minted guardians speak with retired Marine First Sergeant and Mrs. Ayers.
"We don't want to take him away from you," Mrs. Ayers is quick to assure them.
Though it was a remote possibility, saying it out loud takes a huge weight off their backs.
"We're in no position to take care of him ourselves anyway. We just want to make sure we can still see our grandson," Sergeant Ayers says. "He's all we have left of James."
"Of course," Dani reassures them. "And we want him to still have a relationship with you. Whenever you want. Just call us."
They arrange to see each other on Monday, at Jamie's funeral, and to meet later in the week with D. An hour later, having spent some quality time with their dazed grandson, Sgt and Mrs. Ayers head back to the nursing home. Daniel is showing signs of sleepiness, and Ted and Olivia take their leave as well. Charlie offers to take little D up to bed after he kisses Dani and Noor goodnight.
Dani sends Noor and Rachel off to bed as well, claiming she could use the quiet time while loading the dishwasher and washing the pans. Hands in the soapy water, she lets loose all the tears she's tried to keep at bay all day, crying for Katie, and Daniel, and herself a little. The idea of becoming a mother to a newborn was terrifying enough; raising an emotionally scarred, orphaned six-year-old is just incomprehensible. At the same time? She doesn't know if she can.
Rinsing the rest of the soap away and switching on the dishwasher, she lets out a sigh. She splashes cold water on her face, and goes to check on Charlie and D. On the stairs, she drifts back to lazy Saturday afternoons at the Conroy house, sneaking up and down the stairs playing Harriet the Spy while clumsy, loud, little Jake tagged along.
Shit. Is that fucking tweaker going to ruin all of her memories of Katie? He was a constant, annoying presence in their youth, witness to most of their greatest exploits.
She's angry again as she reaches the top of the stairs. She makes her way down to D's room and pushes softly into the cracked door.
At the sight that greets her, all anger drains away, and for the first time in all of this mess, she thinks for just a second, that things might actually be okay.
There's a book (Where the Wild Things Are) closed and abandoned at the foot of the bed. The bed itself is a full-sized bed, the wooden frame tricked out to a model of Charlie's Grand National. Katie had complained when Charlie insisted on this custom-made bed three years ago, when D got his own official room. She said it was too cool, that he'd never want to sleep in his own bed at home. Dani wonders if now he asked for his simple twin.
Further up the bed, Charlie and Daniel are tangled together, asleep. Charlie still has his funeral suit on, sans tie and expensive Italian shoes. Daniel sleeps in a worn racecar t-shirt and tiny boxers, his six-and-a-half-year-old embroidered blanket clutched firmly in hand. His little body is tucked safely into the curve of Charlie's long frame, sprawled out so one hand has father onto the smooth fabric of his uncle's Oxford. Charlie is on his side, as if he'd been talking to, and then watching over, Little D.
Dani strips her heels off, followed by the black sweater she now wants to burn and the pantyhose that have bugged her all day. She then slips in to the bed and switches of the light, D tucked safely between her and Charlie. She moves in close, smelling first D's mixture of kid sweat and apple pie (Kate's favorite, served tonight) and then the fruit-infused, Charlie smell she's so used to. A long-fingered hand sleepily reached across to brush her hip, pausing at her stomach and continuing up to her shoulder, her neck, her cheek.
"Hey," he whispers.
"Shh," she warns. "Go back to sleep." Then, Katie's oft-repeated advice: "Let sleeping babies lie."
His thumb brushes softly, twice, over her cheek before retreating as he mumbles his agreement. She wants very much to lean over and kiss him, but she dares not wake Danny and sleep is quickly overtaking her with each rhythmic breath of her two companions. In sleep, her hand unconsciously rests on her belly.
TBC