Emily sniffled softly, an errant tear falling to splash on the laminated page in her lap. She hadn't realized she was crying.
Sensing her sadness, Tafann, who was curled up at her feet, lifted his head and snuffled at her curiously. He let out a forlorn howl in sympathy before returning to his nap.
At the sound, little feet thundered down the hall, then Declan's little head peered around the corner. "Mommy! Why are you crying?" he exclaimed mournfully when he saw her tears. He raced across the room to fling his little arms around her neck in the biggest hug he could manage.
She nuzzled her nose into his bubblegum scented hair and breathed deeply of his sweet scent. She dropped a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm okay," she murmured. "Just sad."
Declan pulled back and patted her cheek with starfish fingers. "Why are you sad?" he whispered.
"I'm just remembering," she said softly, tapping his nose. She attempted a smile to alleviate his concern.
He cocked his head to the side, studying her, seeing through her like glass. "Ba-membering what?"
She shifted over on the bed so he could sit beside her and see the photo album in her lap. She only had a few photos left from her childhood – when she was fourteen in a fit of teenage pique, she'd burned most of the ones containing her father. It had felt good at the time, she felt vindicated in her anger at him, at life. Now that she was older and hopefully wiser, it no longer felt quite as freeing to have no memories.
Declan flipped through a few pages curiously. "Who's that?" he asked, poking a still chubby finger at a picture of her fifth birthday. Back then she'd been all pigtails and pink cheeks, all sundresses and smiles. Back then, she'd been happy, been carefree. She supposed she didn't much resemble that girl anymore.
"That's me, silly, when I was about your age," she said, voice soft and wistful, reminiscing about a girl who didn't exist anymore.
"Oh..." He paused, thought. "Then why were you sad?"
She sighed softly, flicked her tongue out over her top lip. "You're very lucky, you know that, right?" His little forehead crinkled in confusion. "Your Dad loves you so much..."
"He's a good Daddy," he agreed.
"The best." She pointed at one of the pictures. "That's my Dad."
Declan studied the blurry photo of the man helping her blow out the candles on her cake – the last birthday he'd been there for. "Is he a good Daddy too?" he asked.
She paused, thinking how to word her thoughts in a child-friendly way.
Joseph Prentiss had been a good man, in her memories. She remembered thinking he'd hung the moon. He'd brought flowers to her dance recitals, made her chocolate chip pancakes on her birthday, and scared the monsters out from under her bed. He'd been her whole world...
"He was..." she said slowly, "But when I was your age, he left."
"Where'd he go? To the store?"
She smiled at his six year old innocence, prayed he'd stay that way forever. "I don't know where he went. He just said goodbye and never came back."
Concern washed over his face. "Is that why you're sad? 'Cause you miss him?"
She was thoughtfully silent for a moment. She'd thought she'd gotten over the abandonment a long time ago, but it seemed that Gideon's departure had dredged up the memories. Reid wasn't the only one who'd been hurt before.
"I guess so... I loved my Dad, just like you love yours." That was the simple answer.
"I'd be sad if Daddy went away," he said.
"Your Dad would never ever go away," she promised. If there was one thing she was certain of in life, it was the strength with which Ian loved his son. The strength with which she loved him. "And neither will I."
Declan seemed to be suddenly struck by a thought; he wriggled out of his spot next to her and raced from the room. Moments later, he returned, dragging Ian along behind him looking confused and a little concerned. Declan gestured for him to kneel down so he could whisper in his ear.
Ian obliged, catching Emily's eye as he did so, silently inquiring about the boy's sudden demands, but she simply shrugged, as confused as he was.
After a long whispered conference, he turned to Emily and fixed her with a look that was wise beyond his years. "You don't have a Daddy, but you can borrow mine," he said genially.
Blinking quickly to ward off tears, she sniffled softly, even as she smiled tenderly. "That's very sweet, Schnecke. Thank you for sharing your Dad with me." She knelt down to kiss his cheek, then rose to kiss Ian's cheek as well.
"Now you're not sad?" Declan asked, eager to make everything better.
"How could I be sad when I have the best son in the whole world?" she replied, ruffling his hair.
He puffed out his little chest with pride. "You're the bestest Mommy in the world," he echoed.
"What about me?" Ian asked, arms crossed over his chest in mock anger.
"You're okay, I guess," Emily teased him. Her smile was watery but genuine as she looked up at him through tear-clung lashes.
"Dec, your Ma is being mean to me," Ian complained.
Declan shrugged. "She's sad," he said seriously, as if that were sufficient excuse. Then, an idea seemed to dawn on him. "I think she needs ice cream."
"Ice cream?" Ian repeated with mock incredulity. "No one here likes ice cream...do they?"
Declan flung himself at Ian's legs. "I like ice cream!" he hollered.
"You do?"
Declan nodded vigorously, then whirled around to smile at Emily, an enormous grin on his face. "Ice cream makes it better," he informed her. "Chocolate ice cream."
"I guess that means it's time for ice cream," she said as if were out her hands. "Doctor's orders."
