Stef was thankful that time was creeping slowly past her today. After recieving the news that she was a grandmother and her children were coming home, she had been pulling longer shifts. Volunteering to tackle that mountain of paperwork that she had pushed off onto her rookie partner for the better part of three years. Some of her blonde hair had come loose from the bun she quickly piled at the base of her neck as she was rushing out of the house at four this morning. She had lines forming an almost perfect 'W' when she squinted at the tiny print of her partner's handwriting. The was a migraine pulsating behind her eyes and the only thing she wanted to do now was curl up into her wife's side and sleep for a month.
There was nothing keeping her at the station though, and to be completely honest she would rather be anywhere but here. But the thought of her son, and his wife, and their son...she let the thought trail off, it already being too painful to think about. And in the recess of her mind, which had been littered with the conversations from the last four years, she couldn't remember why she was still so against them. And if she had a valid reason, where in the world did it go? But Stef was angry, and in her mind she was justified, they had broken the rules...the law.
Stef couldn't pinpoint exactly where in her life she had decided to become an officer of the law. It was always her intention to go to law school, but sometimes life doesn't pan out the way you expect it to. Her nose was always in the books in high school, gobbling up information. There was something about useless facts that caught her attention, and she soon found herself desperately researching long outdated laws, wondering what exactly had happened to make that one stick. Sighing she leaned back into her chair at her desk, her hand reaching up to rub the persistent migraine away with no luck. She rested her head in her hands, hunching over the mahogany, and let out an exasperated breath.
Her mind shifting back to 22 years ago, when she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, one who depended on her for everything. One who as he grew, was so quiet, and good natured, and obedient. Stef taught him right from wrong, and her uniform served as a reminder, that rules were made to contain order. Rules were not made to be broken in Stef's house, and the small child would laugh, and smile, and play. But he was respectful, and cleaned up after himself, and never left his toys where they could be stepped on. When it was bedtime he would brush his teeth, kiss him mom on her cheek, and promptly fall asleep after exactly one story. Stef's child loved to follow the rules as well. That was until Callie came along, the young girl igniting a fire in Stef's son, one the older woman was hoping she would never have to deal with.
She saw the beginning of her son turning into a man, with him raising his voice and speaking his mind. Disobedience began to shine through him, but not so much as to get him put into prison, but enough to give his mother headaches. And in particular it was this headache, and it had been with Stef for almost six years now. Her tired eyes glance over at the analog clock, promptly snapping her mind into the future, as she notes that the time is pushing on five o'clock in the afternoon. There was a part of her that didn't want to go home to see her family, that wanted to go find her ex-husband at the bar and drink away their failures together.
Speaking of the man, Stef wondered, if he too, had been in on their child running away with the foster daughter that caught his attention. And Stef wondered, if he too, would soon have the bomb dropped on him that he was a grandfather. Two years, in Stef's opinion, is a long time to hide a human being. It is also a long time to dileberately hide your feelings from your family. And she wonders if she missed anything back then, if she had paid just a bit more attention would she have seen it? Were their stolen glances, and lingering hugs that she chose not to see?
The San Diego police officer wonders where exactly she went wrong in raising her son.
And she wonders how she can still call herself a good police officer, when she was completely, and irrevocably, oblivious to her own damn life.
Brandon stares intently at his wife, watching the way her chest rises and falls in perfect harmony with his own. He is reminded of just what transpired in this bedroom many years ago, and he couldn't even have imagined then, what his wife would be like today. Callie is curled into his side, in his childhood bedroom, where the couple is trying to catch a few hours of sleep until the twins get here, and Jude gets home...and his mother. His wife's head is resting gently on his chest, her mouth slightly open, her breathing heavy. He didn't think that he could love this woman anymore than he had when he was a teenager, didn't think that he would ever be here in this room, with her in his arms, again anyway. But here they were, cramped onto the twin sized bed where they had made love for the first time, and he knew in his heart that if he loved her anymore, it would surely break.
There are days when he watches her as she is making dinner for him, and their son, and he is so proud of all of her accomplishments. Working, and going to school, and raising a perfect child, and still managing to clean the house and cook them dinner, all while he is out searching for a job to pay for the house he plans to buy her. Because he wants nothing more than to hang the moon for this woman, he wants to give her everything she never had. And he wants nothing more than to get out of their cramped one bedroom apartment in Southy.
Hardwork and determination have led the both of them to the people they have become, and since leaving home they had to learn quickly the price of a dollar, and just exactly how far it would get you. When they left home, they left with the idealistic notion that everything was going to be sunshine and roses. Quickly, they learned that that wasn't the case and the two teenagers adapted to the real world, one as harsh as the winters in New England.
Callie snores, and she does so loudly, this he has known for the better part of six years, but as the sound rips through his thoughts he smiles down at her. Brushing back a piece of her hair that had fallen into her eyes, and kisses her forehead, exhaling on the skin there. He continues to watch her, noticing how her arm has curled around her stomach protectively. Cradling with love what the couple secretly wishes were a little girl.
And as if she can sense him staring at her, she groans a bit and opens her eyes.
"Hey babe." She says, leaning in to kiss him. He accepts her kiss, clutching her face in his hands, and pushing his lips roughly against hers. She has never been more beautiful to him than when she first wakes up. With her hair tousled, her eyelids still heavy with sleep, andlips that are slightly chapped. Add the fact that she has mothered one of his children and if carrying his second, and he doesn't want to keep his hands off of her. She chuckles into the kiss, pushing him back slightly.
"I miss Avery." She continues, swinging her legs off of the side of the bed. When she makes it to the door she freezes with her hand on the doorknob, seemingly caught in the place between a memory and reality. He can clearly see the tears that begin to gather in her eyes, and he is off of the bed and clutching her to him in less that five seconds. She doesn't shed those tears, but instead wipes them away with the back of her hand, much like Avery does.
"What's wrong?" He asks her gently, rubbing small circles on her back. She sniffles, and inhales sharply, already on the verge of a panic attack.
"What if she still doesn't accept us, B?" And he would be lying if he said that the thought hadn't crossed his mind during the three thousand mile drive back here. The thought of his mother looking into his face, and still telling him that she doesn't accept and support his decision, doesn't phase him nearly as much as it used to. The first year away from home tore him up inside literally, with thoughts, and nightmares, of never closing this rift between him and his mother. That she would die, or he would, and there would be so much left unspoken between the two of them. But the day his son was born, he knew in his heart, that it didn't matter if she accepted them anymore, as long as she accepted Avery. And this is what he tells his wife, whose eyes are shining with tears and fear.
When the couple enters the first floor of the house they grew up in, it seemed too quiet to them. Their son was a rambunctious one, growing up in South Boston would do that to a kid. The boy shouted things he didn't need to, and was always affectionately vying for the attention of those around him. No matter who they were. Callie's heart started to race in her chest, a nausea that wasn't there a few minutes ago sprung to life in her stomach, causing her to south her stomach in pain as they entered the kitchen to find it empty. Brandon immediately searched the backyard, and she frantically entered the living room.
Callie froze in the doorway at the sight before her waiting desperately for her husband to slip behind her, his hand automatically encircling her waist. The couple looked at each other and then back into the living room, waiting patiently for the woman to realize they were there. Callie, realizing that her stubborn oaf of a husband would never make the first move. There were too many harsh sentences, and nights of slamming pots and pans around their kitchen for him to speak to her without prompting. So Callie did what any mother would do, she inhaled deeply, squared her shoulder, and spoke.
"Hi, mom." She said. And the blonde woman who was still in her uniform finally looked up from her grandson, her eyes connecting with those of the younger woman across the room. Stef smiled down at Avery, swiping his hair off of his sleeping face. Lena had fallen asleep on the other side of the couch with her hand gently clasping that of her grandson. Time seemed to stand still as they waited for their matriarch to speak to them. Different scenarios ran through Callie's mind, ones where Stef stood angrily clutching her son, and telling them all to get the hell out of her house because they were no longer welcome here. The fear clutched at the younger woman's heart, causing bile to rise to the back of her throat, stinging her every so slightly. But she feared for nothing because when Stef finally spoke she only said three words.
"He's so beautiful." Brandon huffed, desperately controlling himself from strolling across the room and snatching his son out from his mother's grasp.
"Hello to you too mother." He spoke through a harsh exhale from flared nostrils. "It's good to see you." And if you paid attention you could see the sadness that flickered through his eyes as he actually spoke to her for the first time in four years. You could see the disappointment that flashed through his face at the realization that they once again were proven right. His mother would never approve of them, and for some reason it stung just as hard today as it did six years ago.
A/N: First of all, I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed. It's amazing the show of support I am getting. Secondly, I want to let you all know, in a case you missed it, that I wrote a two shot prequel to this story. Named I Will Fall, it has a bit of backstory to different feelings, people, events, moments, and songs that will be referenced in this story. In no way do you have to read that to read this, but you should check it out. Also, if you want to see a more mature role of David Lambert's go check out The lifeguard. It's different and very indie, and you get to see his bum. So...