Learning to live again
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
-Mad World, Gary Jules
Flack woke up with a splitting head ache. The pounding echoed in his ears. The acrid taste of bile was cemented into his mouth. Early morning sun spilled through the partially opened curtains on the picture window across the room. Sending rays of light dancing over the bed and into his face. Even the slightest bit of light burned into his eyes and made the head ache worse. He groaned noisily and rolled over onto his side, blindly reaching for the warm, welcoming body alongside of him. Ready to offer up an apology for being so out of it and somehow finding his way home safely.
Only when his hand brushed up against cold empty sheets, his eyes snapped open and he stared for a long time at that untouched pillow next to his head. Despite the alcohol still lingering in his system, reality hit him hard and fast. He was alone. There was no one sharing his bed with him anymore. No sleepy smiles shared between them and lazy, soft kisses and those quiet, long moments of holding each other or making slow, tender love when the rest of the house was still asleep. He'd spent a decade of his life sharing his bed with the same woman. Waking up to her beautiful face and watching her sleep in the late night hours. And it was then that he realized how much he was going to miss the simple things. The way her hair brushed up against him, the soft scene of her bath wash that lingered on her body, the gentle way she'd kiss his forehead and whisper 'I love you, Donnie' when she thought he was asleep.
Tears spilled hot and free down his cheeks and reached out and pulled Sam's pillow into him. He buried his face into it, breathing in the last of her smell that clung to the cotton fabric. He couldn't let go of her. He didn't think he ever would. He didn't think the ache in his chest would ever dissipate. Or if he'd ever feel whole again. He would never forget her. Or love anyone the way that he loved her.
And he didn't want to. No one could ever take her place in his life. And it would be unfair to any woman to have to compete with Samantha. To know that he'd never love them in that all consuming way or be able to give himself completely to them. He knew that he'd never marry again. It was a one time deal and he'd been married to the most amazing woman in the world who had given him four incredible kids and years of happiness. All the pain and the anguish had been worth it in the end. He had loved her more and more everyday and had grown along with her in their life.
I miss you, he thought. I can't let you go. I don't want to let you go. Give me some strength to get through this.
"Daddy?" Daniel whispered from the side of the bed, shaking Flack's arm lightly. "Daddy? What's wrong, daddy?"
Flack raised his head from the pillow and looked into the innocent face of his seven year old son. Clutching that old stuffed cat under his arm.
"You miss mommy, don't you daddy."
It was more of a statement than a question.
Flack nodded.
Daniel reached out, and with a gentle hand, brushed his father's tears off of one cheek, and then another.
"It's okay, daddy." he whispered. "Mommy understands."
Flack choked up but held back another flood of tears for the sake of his son. He raised his head and checked the bedside clock. 6:17.
"What are you doing up, Daniel?" he asked.
"It's time to cuddle, daddy." he replied cheerfully and clambered up onto the bed. "Can I use mommy's pillow?"
Flack nodded and shifted over in the bed to give Daniel some room. This was a routine for Daniel. Getting up disgustingly early and creeping into the room to cuddle with whoever was in the bed. Sometimes it was both mommy and daddy. Most of the times it was just mommy. She'd been on straight days since Kieran came along so that her schedule corresponded with day care hours and eventually school. Mac had been amazing when it came to accommodating their growing family.
Daniel tucked himself into Flack's chest and snuggled his head into the crook of Flack's arm. "Daddy?" he asked.
"Mm-hm."
"Did you love mommy?" Daniel reached out to play with the chain around his father's neck.
"I love your mommy very much." Flack told him.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you love mommy?"
"Because she's beautiful and smart and makes me happy. Because she gave me you and your brothers and your sister. And because she loves me, too."
Daniel smiled, pleased with that answer. He yawned noisily. "Daddy?" he asked.
Flack sighed. "Yes?" he replied.
"I love you."
Flack smiled and pressed a kiss to his son's head. "I love you, too. Let's just lie here for a bit, okay?"
"Okay. Just 'til six thirty though. Then breakfast."
Daniel had been getting up every morning between six and six thirty since the day of his third birthday. It was around the same time when Flack and Sam had realized that there was something not quite right with their son. The first hint of 'trouble' came when he didn't speak an intelligible word until well after his second birthday. They'd been at Christmas Eve Mass when all of a sudden, Daniel stood up on the pew and screamed 'dammit, dammit, dammit!' at the top of his lungs when he dropped the money for the collection plate on the floor. The entire family had been embarrassed and Flack had to take his son to the back of the church when a simple scolding threw Daniel into a rage.
The speech had been a concern for some time. Both Kieran and Daniel could say a multitude of single words by the time they were sixteen months and both could speak simple, full sentences shortly after they turned two. Even Hawkes, as smart as he was, had been impressed by the communication skills of kids so young. Thank God they have their mother's brains, Danny always said.
Yet while his brothers were on track with kids their age, Daniel lagged behind. He had rarely cried as an infant and didn't start cooing until his fourth month. He never babbled ma-ma or da-da until well past his first birthday. Hawkes had mentioned to them it could be a hearing problem and made some calls and got them in to have an audiology assessment done on Daniel. All the tests had come back normal. Stumped, they expressed concern -yet again- to the pediatrician, only to be told that it wasn't uncommon for one twin to be behind. And in Daniel's case, he'd had a traumatic start to his life having the cord wrapped around his neck a few times. He had been completely blue when he was delivered and had to be resuscitated. The oxygen depletion could have caused him to be a bit slower. Until an MRI showed no loss of function whatsoever.
Despite his slow start, Daniel had come along extremely well. Intellectually he was smarter than the average seven year old. Hell, he was smarter than most pre-teens. He seemed like a damn genius with some of the things he could remember and the conversations he could carry on. The morning of his third birthday, Daniel woke up at quarter after six in the morning and announced he wanted breakfast. Then threw a massive tantrum when Sam told him it was too early for breakfast and to come and lie with her for a little while until it was time to get up. A tantrum that included biting and kicking and punching on Daniel's part and tears for both him and his mother.
Flack had been on nights and was getting ready to pull a double when Sam called him in a state saying Daniel was out of control and she needed him to come home and 'do something about your son!'. Flack had been pissed off the entire drive home. Angry that she'd yanked him out of work to handle an unruly three year old. How bad could it be?
He walked in the house and found a terrified Kieran and Mackenzie barricaded in their rooms and Sam sitting in the middle of the hallway, Daniel in her lap, clutched tightly to her as she rocked back and forth, tears streaming down both their flushed faces. Daniel was screaming at the top of his lungs. Sam's clothes were torn and she was covered in bruises, welts and bites.
A trip to the ER and a doze of sedatives were followed by an assessment with a child psychologist who suggested it was ADHD and violent, aggressive tendancies and then offered up a prescription for Ritalin. A three year old on drugs? No fucking way, Flack had said. The specialist had looked at him and asked him if there was violence and aggression displayed at home. Which only infuriated Flack even more. Two days later, child protective services showed up at the house with a warrant to submit Daniel to a physical exam for evidence of abuse. In the end, CPS apologized for having to do it and admitted it was a waste of time. Daniel had never been abused a day in his life and he was happy and healthy. As were the other two boys. And they lived in a clean, safe and loving home.
The OCD first began to rear its ugly head when Daniel started school. The teacher was the first to point it out. How he would spend an unbelievable amount of time washing his hands and would fight with the teacher's helper if she tried to stop him. There were other little things: having to hang his coat on the same hook in his cubby hole, having to arrange his lunch a certain way and then eating it in a certain order. He spent more time organizing and setting up toys than he did playing with the other kids. Then Sam (who spent most of the time with the kids, something that Flack was somewhat ashamed of) began to notice things at home as well. The hand and face washing. The repetitive teeth brushing (to the point his gums bleed and the enamel began to wear off). The way he kept his room in immaculate condition and his toys, books and movies organized. And how he'd freak out on anyone who upset his system.
Then he began sorting and arranging his food on his plate at meals. He had to have an even amount of peas, all the same size or he would refuse to eat. He couldn't stand it if one food touched the other. Sam remained her ever patient, calm self, catering to every little complaint the child had and rushing to remedy the situation. Flack however quickly lost his patience with Daniel. Especially with the out of control, Exorcist style temper tantrums. And no amount of yelling or time outs and on the rare occasion, spankings, would stop Daniel from being the way he was. It either made things worse or the kid laughed at you. Whereas the other two boys were scared of daddy's yelling and Sam often threatened them when they were bad (which was a lot) 'Wait until I call you father and tell him what you two did!'. It was enough to have Kieran and Mackenzie halt - temporarily at least- what they were doing.
Flack hated to admit it, but there'd been a time after one of Daniel's infamous freak outs in the middle of the precinct, that he actually began to hate his own child. And that he'd think 'If you weren't that bastard Tim Speedle's you wouldn't be this way'. It shamed him to think he'd ever thought that. But at that point and time, his nerves were shot and his patience depleted.
"Don't you think you're part of the problem?" he'd snapped at Sam one night after she came back to their bed after she'd sat up with Daniel for nearly two hours trying to calm him after a nightmare.
"What's that suppose to mean?" she'd retorted.
"Everything is for that kid. I might as well not even have a wife anymore. I miss having my wife."
"Go to sleep, Don." she said, switching out the lamp and turning her back on him.
"You spoil him, Sam. You kiss his ass every time he gets upset. Spank his ass instead when he acts up. He's not a baby. He's a spoiled rotten little brat who knows you have no control over him. It's why he is the way he is."
"Give me a fucking break." she snorted. "Ever thought that maybe you're the problem? You're never around and these kids forget they even have a father because they never see you."
That comment had triggered a screaming match that woke everyone in the house. The next day, Flack went into work and asked for three weeks off to spend some time with his kids. They went camping for a week and the hung around the house the rest of the time. And he spent time with his wife, who was beginning to feel neglected and taken advantage of, like she was nothing more than a cleaner and cook and occasional sex partner.
They'd gotten Adam and Gus to stay with the boys for three nights and they went away to a hotel in Manhattan and got to know each other all over again. In every sense of the word. The sex had always been amazing between them. No two times seemed the same. But those three nights had honestly been the most incredible sex they'd ever had.
Two months later, she was pregnant with Mikayla. The thought of having Daniel around a newborn was terrifying. He was unpredictable when he got in his moods. It wasn't until Hawkes had suggested medication that Sam and Flack had agreed to it. They both respected him and his opinion and knew he'd never recommend anything that would harm his 'nephew'. Daniel became a happier, more relaxed kid mood wise. But his routines and OCD continued.
Which was why, at six thirty in the morning, despite his nasty hangover, Flack found himself supervising Daniel as the seven year old brushed his teeth. Daniel always brushed his teeth before breakfast. But had t be watched to avoid him going over board.
"Okay, daddy." he said and jumped down from his step stool. "I'm hungry."
Whether or not Daniel was actually hungry that early in the morning or if he'd just gotten so into a routine that he went along with it, remained a mystery. But every morning he had to eat the same thing: a bowl of Frosted Flakes with just the right amount of milk and one piece of toast with just the right amount of peanut butter. He had to have the same bowl and the same cup for his juice. And he had to sit in the same seat. Mackenzie and Kieran would torment him by sitting in his chair or using his bowl and cup and pandemonium would erupt in the Flack house at supper time.
"Not that one, daddy." Daniel scolded when he spied his father getting ready to pour apple juice in the wrong plastic cup. "The purple one, remember?"
Flack nodded, put the green cup back in the cupboard and got down the purple one.
"Remember, daddy." Daniel said in all seriousness. "Only half full. Okay?"
"Okay." Flack agreed and did as he was told.
He sat Daniel's breakfast on the table and made himself a coffee and went to grab the paper from the front porch. The unmarked squad with the tinted windows was still parked across the street. Flack was tempted to go over and knock on the driver's side window and tell whoever was on duty that day to just piss off and leave them alone. Instead, he just shook his head in disdain and went back inside.
He joined Daniel at the table. The little boy was on his knees on his chair, eating quietly.
"Daddy?" he asked, swirling his cereal around with his spoon.
"What, buddy?"
"What if mommy wants to come home? Is she allowed?"
"Daniel, I've told you this a million times. Mommy can't come home. Okay? Where mommy is, she can't leave. I want her to, but she can't. It's her home now. Understand?"
"What was wrong with our house?" he asked.
"Nothing. But something bad happened to her and she had to go to heaven. She can't come back. Okay?"
"No, daddy. It's not okay." Daniel said sadly and was contemplative for several long minutes. "If she gets hungry can we send her some food?" he asked.
"There's food in heaven." Flack assured him.
"What if they don't have oreos? Mommy loves oreos. Can we send her some?"
Flack sighed. "Daniel, we can't. They have everything she wants. Trust me."
"Can I write her a letter? And draw her a picture?"
Flack didn't see the harm in that. Whatever helped the kid cope. "Sure." he said.
"And you'll mail it to her?" Daniel's face brightened.
"I will."
"Promise?"
"I promise." Flack said. "Now eat your breakfast."
Daniel happily went back to his eating. Flack sipped his coffee and flipped open the paper. His heart pounded in his chest when his eyes fell on the bold, black lettering of a headline on the third page.
NYPD Internal Affairs Investigating Death of Detective
There was a small picture of Samantha below.
The NYPD Internal Affairs Bureau is continuing their investigation into the shooting of a crime scene investigator after the head of the New York City Crime Lab, Detective Stella Bonasera-Taylor admitted in her initial interview that Detective Sargent Samantha Flack went into an unsecured crime scene alone despite repeated suggestions that she wait for assistance. It was not the first time such an incident took place. In 2008 at another unsecured crime scene……
Flack closed the paper and squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the threat of tears. You fucking bitch, Stella, he fumed silently. He never thought he'd ever think that way about Stella. Not after everything they'd been through on the job together. But the woman was treading on thin ice talking shit about his wife.
"What's a matter, daddy?" Daniel asked, concern in his voice.
Flack's eyes snapped open. "Nothing, buddy." he assured his son with a gentle smile. Reaching out, he ran a hand over Daniel's head. "I'm fine. I just have a bad head ache. Say, you feel like going on a drive today? Maybe go to mommy's work and see Auntie Stella and Auntie Alexis?"
"Uncle Peanut and Uncle Danny, too?" Daniel asked excitedly.
"If they're there. Sound like fun? We can go and get some McDonald's and some ice cream?"
"Just me and you?"
Flack nodded. "Just me and you."
Daniel beamed. "Sounds like fun, daddy." he said.
It may be a fun visit for a seven year old, Flack thought. But it's not going to be much fun for Stella.
"Uncle Tim!" Mackenzie bellowed, jumping up and down on the mattress of the pull out couch. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"
Speed groaned noisily and cracked open an eye, looking up at the boisterous seven year old above him. Sunlight streamed through the window of the first floor den. It made his head ache seem a hundred times worse than what it was. And the noise. The noise was horrific. Between Mackenzie screaming his name and wake up over and over again and Daniel yanking and shaking his arm and the sound of a baby alternating between crying and babbling nearby, it was enough to shatter Speed's ear drums.
"Wake up!" Daniel chimed in. "It's breakfast time! Daddy made pancakes!"
"What time is it?" Speed mumbled.
"It's eight o'clock." Mackenzie told him.
Speed groaned again. "Too early to get out of bed. Why don't you guys go watch t.v. or something."
"Daddy said to wake you up." Daniel said. "Come on, Uncle Tim. Wake up."
"You sick or something?" Mackenzie asked.
"Just a little." Speed replied with a sigh.
"Gotta get up!" Mackenzie commended jumping up and down once again. "Time to eat! You have to eat, Uncle Tim!"
"Not hungry." Speed grumbled and tried to yank his arm away from surprisingly strong seven year old hands.
"BREAKFAST!" Kieran yelled from the doorway. "GET OUT HERE YOU BRATS!"
The sound of Kieran yelling pierced through Speed's skull and rocked his brain. It was just to much to take after too much booze and too little sleep. He managed to get out of Daniel's grasp and rolled over onto his stomach and placed a pillow over his head. The sheets below smelled like Carmen. He loved her smell and had missed it for so long. It made him smile to himself and his heart feel complete for the first time in a long while.
"We're not brats!" Mackenzie argued. "You're a bully, Kieran!"
Kieran strode into the room, grabbed his brother by the back of the shirt and yanked him off the pull out. Mackenzie landed awkwardly on his feet, his knees buckling and his forehead colliding with the frame of the couch. Most kids would bawl at something like that, but Mackenzie got up and glared at his older brother and tackled him backwards onto the floor. Then sat on his chest and began trying to pummel him with his fists.
Speed rolled over onto his back and sat up to see what was going on. There was the two kids on the floor, Mackenzie wailing on his older brother and Kieran laughing hysterically about it.
What the hell is wrong with these kids? Speed thought. Although he was somewhat amused at the sight.
Daniel was standing over them, watching quietly with a huge smile on his face that indicated he was more than pleased with the thought of his older brother (and probably biggest tormentor) receiving a beating.
"Hey!" Carmen shouted as she appeared in the doorway, a plate of food in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. "Knock it off! Take it outside!"
The boys ignored her. Kieran got the upper hand and rolled over and pinned Mackenzie to the floor with a knee on either side of his torso, sitting directly on his little brother's chest and holding Mackenzie's arms over his head and secure to the floor by the wrists.
Now that's a move to use on perps, Speed thought. That kid is gonna be big and strong like his father and be kicking some major ass all over this city one day.
Carmen was not impressed. She slammed the plate and cup down on the nearby desk and stomped over to the boys, yanked Kieran off of his brother by the back his shirt and almost tossed him onto the carpet. Giving Mackenzie the opportunity, bump on the forehead and all, a chance to get away.
"Now both of you get out in the kitchen and eat your breakfast!" she yelled, pointing towards the door. "I don't want to hear another word out of either of you or even sit anywhere near each other! Got it?"
"But Auntie Carmen…." Mackenzie attempted to argue.
"Got it?" she repeated, in no mood for back talk. And those kids could back talk with the best of them.
Both Mackenzie and Kieran nodded and got to their feet and headed from the room. A slight collision in the doorway nearly started tempers flaring once again, until Flack appeared in the hallway and did little more than glare at them and point in the direction of the kitchen to get his message across.
"Daniel." he said in a serious tone.
"I didn't do anything, daddy." the little boy said.
"Daniel." he repeated and nodded his head sideways in the direction of the kitchen.
"Fine…fine." Daniel said with a heavy sigh and reluctantly left the room.
Carmen and Flack looked at each other, both shaking their heads.
"It's a freaking three ring circus." Carmen said.
"Welcome to my world." Flack grinned.
Carmen was happy to see that grin return to his face and his blue eyes regain some of their sparkle. Although she knew there'd be a lot of dark days ahead for Flack where it seemed to difficult to cope and a struggle to go on. He still had many tears to shed and his heart was shattered. But that grin was testament to the fact he was at least making an attempt to heal.
"Is it always like this in here?" Speed asked.
"Yes." Carmen replied honestly. "It's constant. Everyone in the neighbourhood knows the Flack kids and cringe when they see them coming."
"How do you do this every day?" Speed asked Flack in a mixture of admiration and pity.
Flack shrugged. "I'm a dad. It's what dads do."
"No wonder you're not insane by now." Speed said.
"It's the bane of having so many boys." Carmen reasoned.
"Mikayla doesn't stand a chance." Speed commented.
Flack laughed. "You kidding me? She yells louder and pulls hair harder than the three of them put together. She's trouble. Just like…."
He stopped. He just couldn't bring himself to say her name.
Carmen smiled softly and laid her hand on his shoulder. "You're okay, Flack." she told him. "You're going to be okay."
He bit his lip to fight back the emotion. "When?" he asked quietly. "When am I going to be okay?"
"It could take a long time." Carmen responded. "But one day, Don, I promise you, you'll wake up and you won't hurt so bad anymore."
He nodded and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt.
There was a loud crash from down the hall, followed by Mikayla screaming loud enough to wake the dead.
"Daddy!" Mackenzie called. "Mikayla dumped her bowl all over the place!"
"It's a big ass mess!" Daniel added.
Flack smirked, and remembered the time that Daniel was four and Sam told him it was time to give up playing in favor of a bath. And he'd looked at her in all seriousness and said "Aww fuck mommy." Sam had just stood there, stuck between laughing and walloping the kid's ass. Flack had just laughed and had gotten the dirtiest 'don't encourage him' look Sam could muster up. The three boys had long ago mastered profanity and got their mouths washed out numerous times. It's what happened being around so many cops.
"Daddy!" Mackenzie bellowed. "She's finger painting on the wall with syrup!"
Flack sighed and gave Carmen and Speed a small smile before leaving the room.
His kids needed him.
But not as much as he needed them.
Max flipped her cell phone closed with a heavy sigh. Terminal Two in Toronto's Pearson International Airport was a hub of activity. Passengers rushing to different boarding gates to catch their flights, tearful loved ones waving farewell and others waiting impatiently and excitedly for those coming in to visit. Max was in no mood to join in the exuberance. Her flight back to New York had been delayed by heavy fog over Toronto for the last two hours and she was tired and cranky from all the noise in the airport and the hellish four weeks she had just somehow managed to survive.
Four days before Samantha Flack had been brutally gunned down in that cold, empty warehouse, Max's younger brother Micheal, who'd lived almost seventeen of his thirty-six years in a long term care facility better suited to care for his low functioning autism and major anxiety disorders, had been killed in a freak accident while out with one of his care providers in the parking lot of the facility. The worker had been temporarily distracted and had only taken her eyes off of Michael for a brief moment. But that brief moment had given him enough opportunity to bolt away to 'make his break for it'. He was struck by a car backing out of a parking space, and died several hours later from massive brain trauma.
Mac had flown up with for emotional support. He'd become a father figure of sorts to her over the years of working with him and she valued his wisdom and the shoulder to cry on that he provided everyone close to him with. She'd missed him when he became commissioner. She was just thankful that her bonds with him and Stella had firm and all of the families spent holidays and special occasions together.
Mac had headed back to New York on the first flight possible when Gerrard had called him with the news that Stella, although fine, had been involved in a shooting on the job. And that one of the team members was critically injured. At that point, Samantha was still in surgery but not expected to pull through. Max had been so consumed with funeral arrangements and financial issues with her family that it wasn't until two days later that she called the Flack house and was told by Gus (who'd been staying with boys) that Sam was on life support and declared legally brain dead. And that Flack, a constant presence at he bedside, was in the midst of making the toughest choice of his life. A phone call from Mac two days after she'd talked to Stella had confirmed that Samantha had passed away.
Max felt guilty when she admitted to herself that she grieved harder and longer for the loss of her good friend than her own brother. She had Sam had had a rough start but that honest, blunt talk at a restaurant by the lab ten years ago had cleared the air between them and started off the beginnings of a beautiful friendship. With no family in New York, Max and Daria had spent many a holiday at the Flack house. Sam and Flack and those boys and eventually that angel Mikayla had become their family. And Max loved them all dearly.
Samantha Flack's death had left a gapping hole in her heart and a permanent emptiness throughout her entire body. She would miss her terribly. That girly little laugh and that smile that crinkle her nose and that Brooklyn accent. The often foul, sarcastic mouth that had you in stitches. Samantha was always fun to be around, whether it be the easiest day in the world or the crappiest one.
Tears stung Max's eyes and she fought them back. Someone taken so unexpectedly and tragically in the prime of their life. With four children at home and a husband that was no doubt destroyed. Max wished she had have gone back to New York sooner. But her mother had been assailed by all the special needs paper work tossed her way by the government. And dealing with the government was a full time hassle. Even when Michael was alive it was a constant struggle.
Her brother had died young and tragically as well. And while Max grieved for him, she thought of how his life had been over a long time ago. It had been years since he even remembered he had family outside of that hospital. A child in a grown man's body. As cold and vicious, it was almost a relief for the entire family. They didn't have to deal with the tantrums and the self harm and the unexplainable behaviour.
She was suddenly overcome by a vivid memory of her and Michael shortly before he had slipped inside himself and became unrecognizable. They were giggling and chasing each other around the front yard, attacking each other with water pistols. That was her last memory of happiness with her brother, and it took all she had to not break down right there in the airport.
Instead, she composed herself and kept her mind off of things by flipping her phone back open and hitting re-dial.
Again the call went unanswered. It just rang and rang. Not even the answering machine picked up. Which was extremely odd.
Where the hell are you Flack? she thought and snapped her phone closed once again. She stretched out her legs and closed her eyes.
She was in for the long haul.
"You're not planning on answering the phone today?" Carmen asked, bringing the last of the breakfast dishes to the sink.
Flack was up to his elbows in soapy water. The sounds of the boys' hysterical laughing filtering in from the backyard where Speed was playing soccer with them despite his massive hangover. Flack couldn't deny the fact that he didn't like seeing Tim Speedle having that kind of affect on his kids. But then he reminded him he was only feeling that way for purely selfish reasons, and he should just be glad his kids were able to have a good time despite loosing the most important person in their life. Mikayla was in her high chair playing with some Mega-Blocks.
He shrugged at Carmen's question.
"It's been ringing non stop for nearly forty five minutes." Carmen said. "It could be important."
"I already received the worst phone call of my life. Nothing can beat that."
She couldn't argue with that.
"Probably telemarketers." Flack said. "I ain't in the mood to buy a vacuum cleaner or donate to charities or shell out forty bucks for some encyclopedias."
"You should at least check the call display to see who it was."
"Who cares?" he asked. "They'll keep calling if they want something that bad."
Carmen grabbed the dish rag off the hook on the fridge and busied herself with drying the dishes. "Don, about last night…."
"I don't need a lecture on how stupid I am, Carmen."
"I wasn't going to lecture you. I was just going to say that you scared me and I hope that if there's a next time, you'll come and talk to me instead of thinking killing yourself is the only solution."
"There won't be a next time." he told her.
"I understand why you felt the way you did. Hell, I've even thought about it since Sam died. But that would only hurt the people closest to me. And in your case, that's those kids."
"There won't be a next time." he repeated firmly.
Carmen gave a small smile. "Good." she said.
"So you and Speed….."
"We're taking things slow." Carmen told him.
Flack nodded. "You didn't find it weird, being with him knowing he'd been with Sam?"
"Did you find it weird being with Sam any time in the past seven years?" Carmen asked.
"First couple of times." he admitted.
"I forgave her, Flack. I just never forgot."
"Yeah? Well you don't have two permanent reminders under your nose all the time either." he said.
Carmen frowned. "That's unfair. To those kids and Sam."
"It's how I feel." Flack said with a shrug. "I have to go back to work on Monday." he said for a change of pace.
"All ready?"
"Been nearly a month, Carmen."
"You have unlimited paid sick leave." she pointed out.
"Maybe. But Gerrard keeps calling to remind me I have monstrous case loads waiting on my desk and he needs me to get my ass in gear sooner rather than later. And honestly, Carmen, I can't stay in this house day in and day out. Even picking the kids up from school and what not and trying to make things seem normal. I'm going insane. I need to get back to work."
"Maybe. But are you ready to go back to work?"
"It's not a matter of being ready, Carmen. It's a matter of needing to for my sanity."
She nodded, considering his answer. "It's going to be hard, Don." she said gently.
"I know. Going up to the lab…." he sighed heavily and his shoulders tensed. "I'll see her every where, Carmen. Everything will remind me of her. But she wouldn't want me to just roll over and die. She'd want me to be strong and go on and…" his voice faltered from emotion. "I have to do it for her, Carmen. I don't want to let her down anymore than I already have."
"You never let her down, Flack. You were a great husband and you're an amazing father. You were there for her no matter what. Through thick and thin. And she loved you with every ounce of her being,"
"You know there's an IAB investigation going on, right?"
"Danny mentioned it."
"Not sure how long it's going to go on for. But they're holding up Sam's vacation pay and her pension pay out until it's over. I don't know how I am going to take care of my kids on just my pay. I'm just glad we have a small mortgage because Sam was smart enough to keep some of Zack's money back to help us get this house."
Carmen listened quietly. Understandingly.
"But there's still some mortgage payments and property taxes and insurance on two cars and bills to pay and four kids to feed and buy clothes for and all of that. We could barely manage sometimes on both our wages. How will I do it on just mine?"
"You shouldn't worry yourself over this right yet, Don. You're fine at this moment so don't make yourself sick with worry."
"I was thinking of selling Sam's car and maybe moving us into a smaller house somewhere that's more affordable. Or maybe moving in with my parents for a while."
Carmen shook her head. "This house was Sam's pride and joy, Don. She wouldn't want you to do that."
"I just can't do it myself." he admitted.
"Then I'll tell you what. Seeing as I'm not going back to Rick, why don't I come and stay here with you and the kids. I can help you out around the house and with taking care of them. I can pay rent. Room and board type thing."
"I can't take your money, Carmen."
"You don't have a choice. I can stay in the den. The pull out is comfortable and…."
"I'll stay in the den." Flack argued. "You can stay in the master bedroom. I'll even buy a new mattress so you don't have to sleep on the same one Sam and I did. Place would light up like Chernobyl if you ever shined that ALS thing on it."
"Toxic swamp." Carmen laughed. "I can't take your bedroom, Don."
"Why not? I can't sleep in there anyway. I barely like going in there. You take the bedroom and I'll take the den."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"I'm sure." Flack replied. "And thanks…..for being willing to do this."
"I'd do anything for you and those boys. And Sam. You know that."
"I do. You were a great friend to her, Carmen. Thank you for that."
She smiled and put her arm around him and rested her head on his arm. "She was very special to me, Flack." she said and struggled with tears. Just when she thought she was teared out.
"I know, Carmen." he said in a near whisper. "I know."
"I just…..I miss her….I miss her so much."
Flack only nodded and took his hands out of the water. Drying them on the front of his pants, he wrapped both of his big strong arms around Carmen's slender frame and held her tight to him.
Carmen clung to him as she sobbed into his chest.
"One breath at a time, Carmen." he said, his chin resting on the top of her head. "It's how we'll get through this."
"She just…..she didn't deserve this, Don. I can't stop thinking about it. About her lying there and you having to watch her…."
"She wasn't alone, Carmen. I promise you she wasn't alone. I know that's what you're scared of."
She nodded.
"I would never have left her alone. You know that. I was always with her. Just like she was with me. I promise you that she wasn't scared and she wasn't alone and that I bet she was thinking about you."
"If only…."
"We can't live on if only's, Carmen. It would kill us if we did. And Sam……Sam wouldn't want you to live like that either."
Carmen sniffled noisily and raised her head from his chest. "Boy, if this isn't a role reversal." she said with a small laugh.
"You have the right to grieve." Flack told her. "You're human. Just know that I'm here for you just as much as you're here for me. Okay?"
She nodded. "Thank you, Don."
"For what?"
"Loving her as much as you did. And for taking such good care of her. You made her so happy."
He managed a smile. "Wasn't easy." he said.
"I know."
"But she made it worth my while." he said. "All the bad times we went through…..I'd do it all again for more time with her."
"You're going to be okay, Don. You will. You'll cope. You have to. For Sam."
He nodded. "For Sam." he agreed.
It hadn't always been that way.
And that was his biggest regret of all.
Special thanks to 'my Montana' for another great song.
Also to: Aphina: for her endless support and understanding
Sister luv v.2: for her many words of encouragement and for giving me such an amazing character to work with
Hope4sall: for her late night chats and for letting me bounce many an idea off of her and offering up such great ones of her own
Thanks to all of you reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of you! And for the lurkers, if you like the story (positivity only please) drop me a review! I love getting mail!
Aphina: You were expecting smut weren't you! LOL. So was I to be honest and then it went in it's own completely different direction. The boxer shorts scene was just for you my lovely!
Mauveine: I tend to agree with Flack, too. And Sam's hormones are so out of whack it makes her reactions even worse. I love sarcasm. I'm glad it makes you laugh.
Hope4sall: thanks for all your help with that last chap. You gave me the confidence to go for it and I did.
Blue: Your girl is causing major issues, huh? I love it
Laplandgurl:Counselling for everyone! LOL. I need it sometimes just writing the story.
Madison: Things are going a little better, thanks for your concern. That is how I pictured Flack to be in a fight and when he doesn't get his own way.
much madness: I have had fights like that where you just toss whatever you can think of just to hurt the other person. And Flack means well and he'll get it all sorted out soon.
Brttmclv: I love your praises. blushes and I am glad that you enjoyed that chap.
Soccer: my faithful supporter! Thanks for sticking with this!
Hardylover7477: I am glad that you noticed some of the things between Sam and Flack and you're right, it doesn't always have to be violent.
Eva: The warning just lured people in even farther. I am evil that way. LOL. Real life is slowly getting better.
Todays plugs:
Mauveine: Someday
Madison Bellows: Playing with Fire (based on the show Rescue Me. This story is fab!) and The Saints Aren't Coming
Aphina: Devine Intervention and Finding Kate (a fab Miami fic
Hope4sall: Behind the Scenes
Brrtmclv: Bonds and Crash and Burn (a fic based on the movie Four Brothers. It's fantastic!)