#JohnCrawfordIII

A/N: This originally had a different name. Unfortunately. John Crawford III was a 22 year old Black man, killed in a Walmart while playing with a toy gun. The gun was unpackaged, and it's very existence in the hands of a Black man was enough for Beavercreek Police officers to justify murdering him on sight. Never a threat to anyone, John was browsing the store, on the phone to his girlfriend. Ohio is an open carry state as we see now with the RNC taking place. Ms. Sherrod lost a son. Mr. Crawford lost a son. Ms. Trimm lost a grandson. Two children lost a father. #BLM

"Good morning, Baby," Dana walked in, grocery bags hanging from her arms.

Lena quickly jumped up, "Mom. Here," she grabbed at a bag in each hand, "let me help you." Setting the first load on the table, she turned as Dana handed her another bag. "You and Daddy didn't have to bring all of this food. I'm not even sure all the kids will be here."

"Yes, Lena. I know we didn't have to," she raised an eyebrow holding up fresh fruit. "We passed this little produce stand trying to navigate from the Greene's yesterday. Your father was frustrated, I was hot, believe me it was our pleasure to stop."

Grinning, Lena set some juice in the refrigerator. Then smelled the bag of herbs. The strong odor had a South East Asian flare. Growing up with the campus community, Lena was surrounded by a small piece of a lot of the world. Indian or Thai herbs and spices seemed to make you remember them. Bold, pungent she hadn't had really good Indian food for a long time. "These are wonderful," Lena closed the door.

"You are wonderful," Dana folded Lena into a hug. She breathed in the scent of Lena's hair. Regardless of age, style and there'd been a few, Lena's hair always smells like Dana remembered the first few moments of her life. It was nice. "So, my grandbabies are leaving their Grandparents on New Year's Eve?"

"What can I say," Lena took two mugs from the cupboard, "they go from the hot chocolate and living room campout to cheap beer and beach pretty quickly now. Daddy," Lena kissed her father's cheek, taking a bag from his hand. "You look good." She turned back to the counter. "Coffee?"

"He looks good?" A smile played at Dana's lips. She raised her eyebrows as her daughter turned for an answer, "yes, please. Two?" Stewart nodded. "See, Darling, I told you eating cleaner would have a positive result," Dana nodded at her husband.

Shrugging, Stewart took the cups from Lena, "the only reason Lena noticed me is because I'm standing next to you." He captured Dana's smile in a kiss, handing her the cup. Pivoting to Lena, he gave her a side hug and kissed her cheek, "but that's nothing new."

Lena squeezed her father, breaking away to finish with the groceries. She heard movement from upstairs and glanced at the clock. "Someone's up early," she observed. The bathroom door slammed loudly. Instinctively, Lena went to the stairwell to yell. Stopping herself, "I forget sometimes they are on break," she turned sheepishly back to her parents.

"No, I've had it," Marianna yelled back up the stairs. Being abruptly woken for the second time during winter break, she'd reached her breaking point with her brother. "No, I'm not going to shut up," she stood her ground on the stairs. "You're ridiculous. You and your stupid boyfriend. I'm done with it," her voice rose, amplified by the stairwell.

"Knock it off," Jude yelled as Jesus went back into the bedroom. "Stop being so loud. You're ridiculous," he mumbled.

"Can't forget my wallet," he rummaged around his desk. "You seen my wallet?" He asked Jude.

"Actually, it's right here," Lena pressed her lips together, standing in the boys doorway. She held up the wallet.

"Sorry you don't have friends to hang out with. Must suck," Jesus stepped around Lena, "aww, Fairy Fingers, did my social life interfered with your beauty sleep?" He reached for his wallet acknowledging his older brother.

"Enough," Lena moved the wallet from Jesus' reach. She glared at Jesus as he tried to grab it. "Grams is in the kitchen," she smiled at Brandon.

"Grams is here already," Jesus brightened, "Grandad too?"

"Yes, Grandad, too," Lena confirmed, grasping Jesus' arm as he tried to rush downstairs. "You need to take a minute," she put her hand to his chest. "Just take a minute and focus yourself."

Jesus drew in a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Opening his eyes, he grinned at Lena, "I'm centered." His eyes darted between the two stairwells, the bathroom, and the girl's open door. Unreleased, he again found Lena's eyes. Jesus covered Lena's hand.

She breathed deeply a few more times, feeling Jesus' tension lessen a little each time, "better," Lena conceded. "Take your medicine this morning, please." Satisfied with Jesus' agreement, Lena handed him the wallet. "Sorry, honey," she apologized to Jude, "get some more rest. It's going to be a long night." Lena quietly shut the door. Walking down the steps, she smiled at the lively kitchen.

"Mama made me take some of them down. But next year, Grandma is going to take me shopping on black Friday. It's going to be amazing," Jesus excitedly explained to Stewart. He looked at his phone, "sorry Gramps, I gotta go. See you guys at dinner," Jesus hugged Dana.

Stef glanced up at the clock. "You've called Nick's phone too?" She asked Marianna again. "I don't know, Love, let's start without him," she shrugged at Lena. The family was all gathered for the traditional New Year's Eve meal. "Dana, Stewart, please lead the way," she waved toward the kitchen table.

Lena sighed in half relief as she picking up her ringing phone. "You're late, Son," she said. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sir," she walked out of the noisy kitchen. "What? Is he ok? I see. No, my wife and I will be right there. Thank you," Lena quickly grabbed her purse, "Stef, come on," she called. "Now, we have to go. Jesus is at the hospital," Lena's voice quivered.

"Babe," Stef was confused, "slow down. What's going on?"

"That was Sergeant something. I don't know what happened. I just know Jesus is under arrest and at the hospital. Come on," she urged. "Don't just look at me, Stefanie, get your purse. We need to go."

Dana and Stef traded concerned looks, "Honey, what did the Sergeant say?" Dana asked gently.

"He said, your son, Jesus Adams-Foster, was involved in an incident this afternoon. We currently have him in custody at San Diego General Hospital. He is in good condition," she repeated, tears on her cheeks.

"Do you want us to come?" Stewart put his arm around his daughter.

"No, I want my wife to hurry up," Lena pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. "You guys stay here. Now, Stef."

"You're still up?" Dana walked into the kitchen. Taking the half empty wine bottle from the table, she set it in the refrigerator. "Why don't we switch to tea?" Hearing no objection, Dana filled the tea kettle, set some mugs on the counter, and prepared the tea bags. She noticed Lena's blank stare. The only indication of life was the small rise and fall of her chest. Removing the whistling tea kettle, Dana filled the mugs and carried them to the table. Sitting at the end, she scooted the cup to Lena. Mother and daughter sat, the silence speaking more than words.

Lena felt someone grab her hand. She looked, almost startled at Dana's presence. "Mom?" She noticed the tea, gratefully taking a sip. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize," she shook her head.

"It's ok, Baby," Dana answered softly. She took a deep breath, watching Lena.

"Stef is being unreasonable. She goes from not understanding why I am so upset to handing in her badge first thing tomorrow. I just couldn't any longer," Lena shook her head. "I mean, that is our son. Does she not understand that? Our baby boy," she trailed off, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Dana pulled her daughter close, "he's not a baby or boy anymore, Sweetheart." Her words carried double meaning. Jesus' last growth spurt added thirty pounds of muscle and height. After today, Dana feared his soul was beginning to catch up with his body.

"That's what Stef said," Lena pulled back bitterly. "He should know better. He has to take responsibility. You can't protect him from everything, Lena," she parrotted her wife. "She didn't see what I saw, though. My son was in shackles, Mom. Shackled, with gauze covering his entire face, lying there with this big white man standing over him holding this yellow taser, the prongs of which were lodged in my son's back. Who then intercepted me, saying, please stay away from the prisoner." She bit her lip keeping the sobs from escaping.

"I'm so sorry, Baby," Dana rested her forehead on the side of Lena's head. She stood, enveloping her daughter. "So, sorry," she tried to soothe her daughter. This wasn't the first time Dana had heard about the family's evening, and it wouldn't be the last.

"He's not perfect, I'm not trying to say that," Lena reasoned. She broke from Dana and continued, "I'm not asking he be absolved of responsibility. He was breaking many laws. That isn't in dispute. I just wish those cops and even doctors hadn't-," she stopped shuddering. "They acted like he wasn't human. Just a report to be filled out. And my wife, is that how she looks at people she arrests? I mean," Lena just trailed off.

Dana listened to her daughter, rubbing circles on her back, "no one is perfect, Lena. Not me, Jesus, you, the officers, doctors, or Stef. Conversely, everyone has humanity. Yes, Jesus is responsible for his actions. As is the young man he was with, his parents, and even you and Stef responsible for your roles. You asked him no questions as he was leaving," she explained when Lena gave her a confused look. "I'm not saying he would've told you. You didn't ask-"

"That's not-" Lena interrupted her mother only to be stopped.

"Lena," Dana put her hand on Lena's arm, "we don't have the luxury of not asking anymore. You are raising a Brown, teenage son. A Brown teenage son who at times has difficulty thinking through his actions. You don't get to define fairness. It's not fair or unfair, it's simply fact. My beautiful, loving, and thoughtful grandson sleeping in the room beside his brother isn't seen as so by law enforcement," she shook her head sadly. "Especially, when he has a pistol between his leg, and tactical gun under the car seat," her voice caught. Dana hadn't been able to get the what ifs from her mind since Stef, Lena, and Jesus walked through the door.

Lena put her hand over her mom's, "Mom, we could've lost him," she shook.

After Dana's tears stopped, she dabbed her cheeks, "you know your wife better than that, Lena," she began gently. "She is kind, gracious, protective, and amazing. Not perfect," she smiled at her daughter, "but she's human, too, Love. You married a woman who happens to be a cop, not a cop who happens to be your wife. We can't live in the land of coulds, my Dear, we will go crazy. You can't expect her to see what you saw, Lena. She has a different perspective"

Lena relaxed a little and took another drink, "yeah. I just hate that my children live in a world so defined by how they look. It's scary."

"Terrifying," Dana agreed. "And you will have to figure out how to help them best navigate it. Together with your wife." She finished her tea and set the up in the sink. "Now, I must get some rest. You might want to think of doing the same. Go, check in on your son. Make sure he isn't too congested and his skin isn't too red. The effects of the spray will last a few days," Dana advised. She'd read Jesus' discharge papers. "Don't trip over my grandaughters," she smiled walking up the steps. "Love you," Dana added.

"Love you too, Mom," Lena called after her. She sat at the table, listening as the house once again fell silent.