Author Note – I didn't think I'd write a follow up to the first chapter, but an idea struck me. It is sad, so bear that in mind if you continue reading past this point. I would love to know any thoughts you have so if you have the time please leave a review or send me a PM if you're uncomfortable leaving a public comment.
Last Rites – chapter two
'History is hereditary only in this way: we, all of us, inherit everything, and then we choose what to cherish, what to disavow, and what to do next, which is why it's worth trying to know where things come from.'― Jill Lepore
Dozens of people came to bid her farewell, celebrate her life and everything she achieved. He sits in the cemetery for a long time after her coffin is lowered in to the ground. Day turns into dusk and he marvels at how tranquil it is being surrounded by the dead, he wonders if she's at peace. His mother slipped away in the night and he found her the following morning when she failed to meet him for breakfast. At the age of twenty five he'd only been to two funerals before in his life and as the son of a cop he's grateful there weren't more.
Noah had accompanied his mother to both, her hand gripping his tightly during the first, his elbow during the second. Noah was twelve when Donald Cragen was laid to rest and he cried for the man who was like a grandfather to him. Threw her own tears, his mother consoled him and explained to him about the cruelty of life and the end which befell everyone. It didn't matter how it happened, death was always horrible she told him as they trawled through a photo album of memories which were older than he was.
He'd hung onto the memory of that afternoon when they attended Uncle John's funeral last year. John had known he was ill for a while but chose not to receive treatment or tell anyone till he was too sick for anyone to change his mind. In the end he had passed away in the middle of the night with Uncle Fin by his side.
Noah heard the gravel crunch and flick a few feet away. He didn't need to look up to see Fin walking towards him using his cane which he'd needed after being hit during a shoot-out which put him in retirement. Noah slid along the bench to make room for him, trying to ignore the grumble of pain his uncle gave as he lowered himself to the bench, his gloved hands clasping together on the top of his cane.
"Is everything okay at the wake?" Noah asked his gaze fixed on the pile of earth that had been filled in after his mother's coffin was lowered into the ground.
After the funeral everyone had left for a local restaurant to share memories of his mother. Noah hadn't been able to leave her, not yet. He stayed as the other mourners filed past him. He shook one hand after the next, wondering how many people knew Olivia. Only Fin, Nick and Amanda showed concern over his decision to stay, his refusal to leave. He didn't know what to do, and he thought maybe staying here he would find guidance.
"Yeah, it's fine," Fin told him. "How you doing Noah?"
"I miss my Mom," Noah replied, his eyes sheening over. He reached into his pocket and took out the pouch which he'd been carrying around since he'd found her. "I don't know what to do," he said showing Fin the pouch. "I found it in her hand."
Fin looked at the little purse and after a moment he reached out to take it from Noah. "What's inside it?"
"An envelope, Mom put it inside when the paper was too delicate to handle." Noah exhaled loudly. "You know who gave it to her?" He asked when Fin didn't look surprised, just sad and full of regret.
Fin nodded and turned the pouch over in his hand. He handed it back to Noah with a sigh. "Do you know who gave it to her?"
Noah nodded forlornly. "I always saw it in her bag when I was a kid and I would always ask what was inside. She would always say she wasn't ready to know. I had no idea how she could stand the temptation, because I wanted to know." He paused, swallowing before carrying on. "I know things got bad when I was a teenager, I acted out-"
"Kid, you were a pain in the ass," Fin injected with a laugh. "But you grew out of it. She was proud of you, never forget that, never forget the day you graduated college. She was so happy."
Noah smiled ruefully at the memory; Fin and John joined his mother in the audience, watching him cross the stage to accept his diploma. But he shook his head, pushing it aside for the one which had him feeling ashamed.
Olivia had told him about his biological mother when he was fifteen and even though he'd always known he was adopted, he couldn't comprehend what happened to Ellie and the start to life he had as a result, the life his mother saved him from. It was difficult for him to deal with, so he acted out, blamed Olivia for not telling him sooner. For a while he'd stopped calling her Mom, opting instead to use 'Olivia' as a painful reminder that she wasn't his birth mother.
"I missed my curfew by about an hour when I was fifteen, I'd done it before but she'd always been at work so I got away with it, I didn't think it'd make much difference. But she was waiting for me when I got in, got my favourite for dinner. She was angry and worried, and I couldn't help yelling back when she told me off and grounded me. Mom cried," he screwed his eyes shut as the image of Olivia with a glistening tear rolling down her cheek. "She told me she was scared and I said she always was, especially when she was too scared to open a stupid envelope. I went to my room and I could hear her crying, I cried too because that was our first big argument.
"Next morning, I woke up early to make Mom breakfast as an apology but she was already awake, staring out the window holding the envelope. She looked so lost. I can't remember saying anything as I stepped into the kitchen but she just started talking. About Elliot. About them. I didn't know it was the anniversary of his death."
For the following two weeks, Noah had made sure to be on time, do everything his mother asked him to. His downward spiral continued till he was seventeen and he'd been arrested for tagging a bridge. He'd been stuck in a holding cell for a couple of hours with a bunch of guys who looked ready to kill each other and him. By the time Fin picked him up and set him straight on few things he was ready to apologise to his mother. He'd crumbled the second he saw his mother, hugging her fiercely, mumbling over and over how sorry he was. After that he did his best to stay out of trouble.
Since then Noah had grown up and realised the life his mother saved him from, everything she protected him from. He tried to make up for the turmoil and heart ache he put her through, but she relieved they could put it behind them and move on. He was grateful for her support, for protecting him, for never giving up on him, for loving him. He hoped she knew how much he loved her. She was his mother, she raised him to be the man he was today and he hoped he could honour Olivia's memory properly, the way she deserved.
"She was in love with him," Fin stated quietly.
Noah looked at him with a frown. It wasn't that the information was new to him; he'd always known that on some level. It was that Fin was telling him. Fin never meddled, was usually a source of silent strength which Noah had looked up to his entire life. "Did he love her?"
"Yeah," his uncle nodded once, his eyes softening as he looked to Olivia's grave. "But they never had their time. I was there the day she got it, the day he died. He'd been carrying it around for a while."
"Do you think she knew what was in it?"
"Why would she put it in a pouch if she did? She was gonna open it when she was ready to say goodbye."
He'd hastily drawn it together as it was in his mother's hands before he rang for an ambulance. He knew he shouldn't have but all he could think of was how protective she was of the small velvet purse clutched in his hand and precious gift inside.
Fin's eyes drifted closed and Noah studied him, noting the lines on his face, the weary expression as the last of his team left in the world. None of them were related by blood but they were a family. It was more than genetics, a bond forged by their work, why they chose to do the work they did. They readily accepted him as part of their family because he was Olivia's son.
He had been in awe of the amount of people who came to pay tribute to her today, the amount of tears shed for her. He knew his mother would have been overwhelmed by the response of people taking the time to remember her, thank her for helping them in the worst times of their lives. His mother was loved, but she would have brushed it off as being part of the job, doing nothing more than what should have been done. She was her job, and apart from him, that was her life. She loved it.
Noah fingered the seam of the pouch, itching to open it. "It was open when I found her," he admitted. "But I closed it." Noah paused, scrunching it in his fist to resist temptation. "What do you think is inside?" Noah asked.
Fin bowed his head as he thought. "An apology, an explanation…I don't know Noah. Elliot loved your mother but he broke her heart too. I have no idea if they could have fixed things, or if they would have tried."
"He obviously wanted to tell her something. Did she know he loved her?" Fin nodded.
"He shouldn't have waited so long. I think they both regretted not telling each other. They were scared, let their chance slip by." Fin eyed his hand pointedly. "What do you think is inside?"
"Them," Noah replied. "I think whatever he put in there is part of them, and they carried it around when the other one wasn't there. They weren't ready to say goodbye. That's why Elliot never gave it to her before he died, because there was part of Mom inside and he still needed part of her with him."
Fin didn't answer, but he nodded his approval of Noah's assessment. They sat in silence for a long minute, staring at Olivia's grave.
"Are you going to open it?" Fin asked eventually.
He thought about it, over and over since the morning he found her but he couldn't bring himself to do it when he didn't know his mother looked inside before she died. Deep down he knew she wouldn't want him worrying about this, about her. He couldn't help it. He knew she wouldn't want him to carry this for her, wouldn't want him to dwell in her past, and doesn't want him to inherit this from her. Noah shook his head.
"I can't, it's not mine to open. As much as this meant to them, this isn't mine to keep."
Without waiting for Fin's approval Noah used one hand to push off the bench and walked the short distance to the pile of earth. Mindful of Fin's gaze on him Noah knelt at its' side and used his free hand to dig down to below ground level. When the hole was deep enough so it wouldn't be disturbed Noah carefully placed the pouch inside of it before recovering it with the soil.
They weren't religious and Noah had no particular thoughts on life after death or heaven but in that moment he hoped there was just so his mother could have someplace to be, not just in the ground a few feet below him. He liked to think she had opened the envelope, seen what Elliot had intended to give her all those years ago, that she'd made her peace with the temptation she held on to all these years and never gave into.
He hoped she had said goodbye.