Acceptance and denial

"I want you to live, I want you to love

I wanna go back to the way it was

to hear you say my name again

I wanna see your smile again

I want you to live."

-I Want You to Live, George Canyon

"I can't do this Carmen."

Flack was shaking. Deathly pale. He and Carmen sat in the front pew in the small chapel of the funeral home in Lower Manhattan. The director had asked him if he wanted to come an hour before the scheduled start of visitation so he could have 'private time'. He'd been unable to make the sad twenty minute drive alone. He had insisted that the kids didn't come to the funeral home. The church service on Saturday would be enough for them to deal with. Kieran had put up resistance. He was going to be ten soon and as far as he was concerned, he was old enough and strong enough for such an event. Flack had held firm and had an elderly neighbour come over to stay with all of them.

In his trembling hands were brightly coloured cards and pictures and letters in childish handwriting. Carmen had told the kids to do something for mommy that she could take with her to heaven so she could look at them and think of her babies down on earth. They'd happily obliged and even helped the two year old prepare something. Flack planned on putting the kids' things in the casket, along with a letter he'd written and refused to let anyone, even Carmen, read.

Carmen reached out and took his free hand. "Yes you can." she assured him. They were waiting for the director to finish last minute preparations and then come and get them.

"I can't..." he insisted. "I can't see her..."

"Don... she's your wife.. the mother of your children. You have to."

"I don't want to see her like that. I don't want my last memory of her to be like this."

"Then just think back to the last time you saw her and she was alive and well." she suggested.

"I can't think of that!" he argued.

"Why not?"

"Here? The last time I saw her, we were... you know..."

Carmen gave a small laugh. "Even after ten years and four kids you two were still like bloody rabbits."

"I always kept in enjoyable and interesting for her. My wife had no complaints."

"No. She didn't." Carmen agreed. "She said a lot of loving, sweet things about you, Don."

"Yeah?"

Carmen nodded.

"She wasn't one for saying things like that. Not to me anyway. Half the time we were arguing and she was telling me what an ass hole I was."

"She loved you." Carmen informed him.

He nodded and stared down at his wedding ring. "I know. we went through a lot, Carmen. There were times I didn't think we were going to make it. Sam didn't either. We talked once about it. Divorcing."

"Really?" Carmen was genuinely surprised. "I never knew that."

"We kept it to ourselves. It was private."

"Why were you talking about it?"

"We weren't getting along anymore. We were fighting a lot and saying a lot of mean, hurtful things to each other and the kids were getting in the middle and seeing it and it wasn't fair to them. It was a bad situation. I think we even hated each other there for a little bit. I think she hated me more than a few times in the past ten years."

"Are you insane?" Carmen asked. "Don, she loved you come hell of high water. She put up with a lot of shit to be with you. And vice versa."

"There's never been a time I didn't love her. But I was a real bastard to her."

"Don-"

"I was.Sometimes. I wasn't the easiest person to live with. There were times I drank too much, spent way too much time away from her and the kids, put the job ahead of her."

"She accetpted that reality when she married you, Don. She knew what marrying a cop would be like."

"Trust me." he said firmly. "I was a real bastard to her a few times. I didn't deserve her. The girl with the masters degree and a guy with a grade twelve. She could have had anyone she wanted. Danny, Hawkes, even Mac."

"She didn't want any of them. She wanted you. Plain and simple."

"Well I must have been a really good boy in a previous life than." Flack said. "Because my wife was amazing."

Carmen smiled. "Yes... she was."

He sighed heavily. "I'm scared." he said.

Carmen rubbed his back softly. "I know you are."

He stared down at the letters and cards in his hand. "How am I gonna do it?" he asked. "Raise four kids without her?"

"One day at a time, Flack." Carmen replied. "One day at a time."

Carmen felt numb. From head to toe. She was vaguely aware of the pounding of her heart and the nausea building in her stomach. There may as well have been no one else in the room save for herself and that once bubbly, hard working and energetic soul that was now deathly still in the polished oak casket before her. Her mind seemed incapable of thought or process. She felt the sympathetic eyes of the funeral director on her as he stood discreetly several feet behind. She could see out of the corner of her own eye that Flack was watching her intently, struggling with a flood of his own tears while holding out concern for her as well. That was so like Flack. Always looking out for others. Even at an immensely personal and painful time, he was still worried about her.

She moved closer to the coffin. It was surrounded by stunning flower arrangements and displays of pictures of her and Flack with the kids and of her and Adam and Clint and their mother when they were all much younger. Other photos of her and various members of the team. Carmen could only stare at the familiar face lying there in a bed of cream satin. A soft smile on the lips, hands clasped in traditional pose, a rosary between her fingers.

That can't be her, Carmen thought. It can't be. It looks like her but it can't be. She's not really gone. She's going to walk in this room any minute and tell us this is all a mistake. Some sick, twisted joke. That she's not really dead.

But she is. She is dead and for the first time since it happened, Carmen's brain finally clicks on. That this is real and it really did happen and that is her. She's gone and she's never coming back. She was never going to hear that girly little giggle again or hear some sarcastic comment in that Brooklyn accent or sit back with a coffee and share in some girl talk. No more processing crime scenes and chasing down perps and bitching that they were overworked and underpaid. No more proud mom bragging about her kids' achievements and showing off the newest pictures. That was all gone.

"Samantha..."

Did the name actually escape her lips? Or did she just imagine it? She stepped even closer to the coffin. She needed to see for sure. She put her hands on the edge of the smooth wood and shook her head repeatedly. She reached out and laid a hand over the cold, still hands clasped over a motionless chest. Touched her friend's face softly.

She whispered the name once more and completely broke down. Heavy, gut wrenching sobs taking over her entire body, screaming the word no over and over again as grief brought her to her knees.

"Carmen..."

Flack's voice from somewhere nearby. And then he was standing beside her and reaching down for her and she circled his legs with her arms and sobbed into him.

"Carmen..." he repeated, laying his hand on the top of her head.

"What am I going to do?" she wailed. "How am I going to go on without her? I loved her!"

"I know." Flack said and stroked her hair.

"She was my best friend! She never judged me or talked about me behind my back! She accepted me for who I was and all the little faults that came with it. And she was always there when I needed her and now she's gone! She's gone, Flack! What am I going to do?"

He reached down and untangled himself from her arms and took her underneath the arms and gently lifted her to her feet. Wrapped his big strong arms around her slender body and held her tightly.

"It's okay..." he whispered in her ear. "Its gonna be okay."

"If I hadn't have gone away none of this would have happened?"

"What?" Flack held her out at arms length. "Carmen, it wouldn't have made a difference no matter who was with her. It happened. And if someone else had have gone in there with her, it probably woulda been two dead cops. You don't think I haven't thought a million times about the what ifs. Every second of every day I think about them."

"What could you have done?"

"I don't know. Make her call in sick. Keep her home that day.Anything that would have kept her alive."

"She was a stubborn little thing." Carmen sniffled. "She wouldn't have listened to you."

"Probably not. But I've lost everything, Carmen. I've lost my wife and my best friend and the mother of my kids. And all I can think about is the if only side of things. I can't do this alone, Carmen. I can't. I need you to be the strong one. I need you to be here for me and my kids. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded.

"She loved you Carmen. You meant the world to her. You were always there for her no matter what."

"She was my girl." Carmen said and drew in a shaky breath. "You should go up there and have some time. Say what you have to say."

"I said it all in the hospital. I had my time then."

"You need this, Flack. You know you do."

He nodded and took a deep quivering breath and let it out slowly.

"I'll come with you." she offered.

"No. I need to do this alone. I need that last few minutes alone."

She nodded in understanding and laid a comforting hand on his forearm before being escorted out of the room by the funeral director.

"Take as much time as you need." the man said and smiled sadly at Flack before leaving.

He sighed heavily and steeled himself as he approached the coffin.

"Always thought you'd be doing this for me." he said light heartedly. He pushed her hair behind her ears. She always wore her hair behind her ears. Said she hated the feel of hair on her face. He touched her face softly with his fingertips. Needing to memorize every inch and feel of her face. Because in two days he wouldn't get the chance again.

He put the letters and pictures in the coffin alongside of her, fighting his tears. It was a loosing battle.

"I want you to know I love you." he whispered. "There was never a time I didn't love you. Ever since that day outside the lab. Moment I looked at you and you said something smart ass to me, I knew I loved you. Thank you for everything. For the life that we had the for my kids and for..." he choked up. " for loving me like you did even when I didn't deserve it."

He reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out her wedding ring. "You always said you'd never take it off. And even if you can't wear it, you can still have it on you." he tucked it into the breast pocket of the blouse she'd been dressed in.

"I just..." he closed his eyes and composed himself. "I just wish none of this happened. I want things to go back the way they were. We were happy. We had a family and a house and we were happy. For once we were happy and ... I just want you back, baby. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh and hear you say my name again. That's all I want."

No answer. Not that he expected one. She was gone. And there'd be more questions and no answers for a very long time.

He needed to be alone. An hour into the public visitation and Flack had had enough. Enough of shaking peoples hands and accepting condolences and then listening to comments about how good she looked or how it looked just like her and she was in a better place now and thank God she didn't suffer.

He just couldn't deal. Because no matter how good a mortician was at their craft, a dead body still looked like a dead body and he didn't think that body looked anything like his wife. And a better place? What could be a better place than being with him and their kids? And as far as suffering went... well they weren't there in that ambulance listening to her gasping for breath and choking on her own blood and grabbing at her chest and at Stella's hands. She had suffered. She had lied there and known she was going to die. No one knew what went through her mind or what pain she was in or what her last words were. Stella said the last thing that came out of her lips before going into convulsions and crashing were: Tell Don...

She never finished the sentence. And now he'd always wonder what she was going to say.

He sat in a 'quiet room'. A place where people could go when they were feeling contemplative or needed time to themselves. There was always fresh coffee and cold drinks and a fish tank bubbling in the corner. He sat on one of the navy blue sofas, staring at the coffee in his hand when he felt the presence of someone standing in the doorway.

He glanced up.

"Flack?" the African American man in a well tailored three piece suit asked.

That voice. Something about that voice.

"I'm Flack." he concurred.

"You mean you don't remember me, son?"

With that one little word at the end, a flood gate of memories opened up.

"Carter?"

"How are you, Flack?" the new and improved Carter England entered the room.

"Jesus Christ, Carter." Flack shook his head and stood up. "Last time I heard you were in re-hab."

"Long time ago now, son. Almost nine years. Got myself clean, took some trade courses and got myself a job in sanitation. Got a job, decent place to live. Even a girl, son."

"Knew there was more out there for ya then the drugs. I'm happy to hear every things working out."

Carter nodded and offered a small smile. "I uh... I read it in the paper. About your wife. I remember the last time I saw you you;d guys just had a baby."

"That baby's nine years old now. Almost ten."

"Time flies for sure. Other kids?"

"Three. Twin boys that are almost seven. And a little girl that just turned two."

"No kiddin? Flack the daddy. Wonders never cease. Look, I just wanted to come and say thanks for helping me out all those times.You didn't have to, but you did. And I wanted to tell you that..." Carter sighed heavily. "I'm sorry about your wife Flack."

"Thank you." Flack said in a faltering voice.

And then Carter England reached out and pulled Flack into his embrace. "Gonna be okay." Carter assured him. "Gonna be okay, son."

Don Flack Sr never showed up to his daughter in law's wake. Flack Jr never said a word about it and accepted a hug from his mother and gave her a tense one of his own and then nodded at the bull shit excuse she made up. Truth was, when his mother showed up the visitation was almost over and Flack was emotionally drained from having to keep Danny and Adam from having breakdowns.

Carmen was pissed that the old man couldn't support his son that one time when he needed him the most. But Gavin Moran had shown up at the very start of things and stuck by Flack's side through the whole thing, as had Mac. With the two of them, Flack had two fatherly shoulders to rely on. Yet she knew it still hurt.

At ten that night, she found Flack alone, as usual, in the kitchen, writing feverishly on a yellow pad of paper, the light from the over head light making the white gold wedding band on his finger sparkle. She briefly wondered if he'd ever take it off.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked.

He simply gestured to the empty chairs.

"Wanna beer or anything?"

"Thought you were trying to keep me from being an alcoholic?" he laughed.

She got one for each of them and joined him at the table. "What'cha doing?" she asked.

"I have to go back to work next week."

"I know. And...?"

"Its my last will and testament."

She shivered. "That's eerie, Flack."

"Just in case." he reasoned. "Sam was the executor of my estate and the beneficiary and she's gone now and if anything happens to me, I wanna make sure my kids are taken care of."

"Good idea. So what...?"

"I left everything to the kids obviously. If Kieran is eighteen, then he came be the executor and beneficiary. If he's not, I wrote that you and Rick are to keep everything in trust for him until he's old enough. Can you do that?"

"I can."

"I need to know that if they're still little and something happens, that they won't be separated. They stay together."

"Rick and I will take them. You have my word."

Flack smiled. "Thanks."

She nodded and reached for another piece of paper. "And this?"

"That's what I'm planning on reading at the funeral."

She silently scanned through the writing on the page and felt tears sting her eyes. "That's beautiful, Flack." she said and sat the paper down.

"I am a constant study in contradiction." he declared.

"Its what she loved most about you. You weren't always homicide detective. You were just Don."

"She use to love it when I got all cop on her." he teased.

"Okay, lets leave that thought in your head!" Carmen laughed.

"You know what I loved most about her?"

"Flack..."

"Other than that."

She watched him and waited.

"The way she looked at me each and every day with love and respect. And the way I looked at her and she took my breath away."

Carmen smiled and reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

"I love her." he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"I know. And you have all those memories in your heart and no one can take them away."

He nodded and managed a small smile. "An entire lifetime of them." and then he went back to his writing and was lost in those memories once again.

Sorry smut lovers. Gotta wait a little longer!