Fic: My Girl
So, I had decided to hold off posting this fic because there are some people who still haven't seen the four held back eps, but I've read all the awesome fics posted recently and decided that I couldn't wait any longer. So I'll just have to settle for a big fat warning: DO NOT READ THIS FIC IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN 2x04.
Title: My Girl
Character(s):Pairing(s): Greg, Jules, Ed
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The events of 2x04, from Greg's and Ed's perspectives.
Author's Note: This story directly follows the events of 2x04, which has not aired in North America. So, if you've decided to be a good little fan and wait until CTV/CBS get off their lazy asses and air it, DO NOT CLICK ON THE LINK. You have been warned.
When Eddie asked me what happened with Dean in Dallas, I brushed him off. Like I always brush him off when it comes to the subject of my son.
I never got to be a real father to him. Kim never gave me the chance. No, the bottle never gave me the chance. Either way, I lost my shot with him, and although jumping on a plane and showing up on his doorstep unexpectedly may work for those folks in the movies, it didn’t for me.
When I got there and Dean opened the door, it took a full three minutes before he said one word. I know because I timed it. It was better than just listening to the silence.
Then he started screaming at me. And I stood there and took it. I deserved every word. I hadn’t been there for him. He had no reason to welcome me back into his life with open arms. Eventually the screaming brought his mother to the door. She was just as stunned to see me as he was. Gently, she placed her hand on our son’s shoulder. It took a minute, but Dean stopped shouting at me. I waited while he tried to get his breathing under control and his mother stared at me. Then, I spoke:
“Hi Dean, Kim. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to do this, and I know you have no right to trust me, but I decided that letters weren’t enough. And you are completely entitled to shut me out, son, but as hard as you push me out, I’m gonna push back. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere. I’m your dad and I’m not going anywhere.”
That was the best I could come up with on the plane, and it still sounded pathetic. But it was all I had. I waited, silent once more, for one of them to say something.
Not surprisingly, Kim was the first to speak. “Greg,” she said. “Come in.”
Dean was about to protest, but she shushed him with just one look, and he stepped aside so I could enter the place my son had called home, that I had never even seen before, for the last nine years.
Kim made coffee and we all sat in the kitchen, trying to ignore the awkwardness. She asked how I was, what I was doing. I briefly told them about the team, and made a point to mention that I was better. That I’d been sober for nine years. Well, at least I tried to tell them. Dean refused to make eye contact with me, so I’m not sure if he was even listening.
Eventually, though, he looked up. He had questions, lots of them. Why now? Why had I waited until now to come see him? Where was I on all the birthdays and Christmases? What did I want from him? Was I serious when I said I was back for good or was I just yanking his chain? I tried to answer all his questions, calmly and honestly. But at the end of the day it didn’t matter. Kim showed me out and I left my hotel information in case Dean wanted to get in touch.
I spent the entire next day sitting by the phone waiting for it to ring. It never did.
I came home, defeated once again. It occurred to me that Eddie would want to know what happened first thing Monday morning. It occurred to me that when I walked into the briefing room, I wouldn’t be met with blank stares or yelling. It occurred to me that I couldn’t manage to be let into my own family’s life, but there was this other family, this different type of family, that I had managed to win the love of. I decided that while I would never give up on Dean, I could look out for that family, because they were willing to let me.
But I had gone and screwed that up too. Jules was lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life. She was one of those family members; the daughter I never had. And I was supposed to protect her, like a father should. I had failed my real family and my adoptive one.
I stepped into her room, deciding I should be the one to sit with her until she woke up. But I couldn’t sit. If I sat I’d have to look at her. So I stood over by the window, as far away as I could get. If I stood I could look at my feet.
I wanted to tell her how sorry I was. I wanted to tell her that it was all my fault, and that it should be me in that bed. I wanted to tell her I’d never let her down again if she just opened her eyes.
But I didn’t say any of this. I just stood there, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. I started to think that maybe Dean was better off without me. It was obvious I couldn’t hack it as a dad. I didn’t want any more of my kids to suffer like Jules was right now.
It was then that Sam came in. There was another one of my screw ups. There was obviously something going on with the two of them, and I hadn’t figured it out ‘til this morning. Dating was strictly prohibited in the department, and there was a reason for that. Once you throw emotions into the mix, things get complicated and somebody could get hurt on the job. I should have jumped on this right away, but I decided to wait and talk to them later. Now there might not be a later.
Even still, he was her teammate, so I gave him a moment alone with her. When I stepped out into the waiting room my eyes landed on Ed. I liked to think that he was the one thing I’d done right. But that wasn’t true either. He was turning out just like me; shoving the skeletons into the closet, acting like the job didn’t affect him. It wasn’t good and if he wasn’t careful he was gonna continue down the road I’d been on all those years ago. Again, my screw up.
There’s another thing about those people in the movies. They all seem to have a life altering moment of realization, a grand epiphany that changes their entire outlook on the world. There’s a reason I’ve never been in a movie. I wasn’t realizing anything new; just the same stuff that had been obvious for years, but I had been unable to follow through on. If Jules made it out of this, things had to change. I knew that. And I was gonna start right now.
***
Boss walked over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of wherever the hell I’d been. He told me to leave. He actually told me to leave and go on my vacation as scheduled, while Jules was unconscious with a bullet hole in her side.
Hell no. I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d already let her down enough.
When she first joined the unit, she was an anomaly. She was like no one us guys had ever seen. Yeah, we hassled her just like we would any rookie. No, that’s a lie. We hassled her a little more because she was a chick. But it was obvious she’d been expecting that, and I was impressed by how she handled it. She earned my respect faster than any other guy on this team.
She didn’t need a big brother. She didn’t need a protector. But I was drawn to her. Our relationship was different than the one I had with Wordy or Lou or Rolie or any of the guys. I trusted her with every fibre of my being, just like them, and I’d stand up for her if necessary, just like them, but there was something different. I can’t put a name on it, but it was like we had this bubble. A bubble with only two inhabitants; Jules and me. We could still interact outside the bubble, which in this case would be the team, but there was always something about our exchanges that didn’t make sense to anyone outside the bubble. She was my girl.
But lately we haven’t been inside that bubble as much. We’ve been spending more time with the outsiders, particularly two outsiders; Greg and Sam. When Braddock joined our team I didn’t trust him, and I had my reasons, but Jules seemed to have found her own bubble, and I wasn’t the second inhabitant. She was drawn to him like I was to her. Suddenly they were the ones with the conversations with the hidden meaning. Suddenly when the tasks were delegated, she wound up with him more than she did with me. And it wasn’t entirely her fault. The team was changing. A new generation was coming in. Greg, Wordy and I were the only older guys left. The rest of them still had a long time to go in the unit. So I sorta migrated to them. I started riding with Greg, talking to him about Dean and listening to him talk to me about Sophie. And before I knew it, the bubble had floated off somewhere into the background.
I still love Jules. I don’t think that bubble has completely evaporated. But I could have paid more attention to it lately. Judging from the way Parker’s been eyeing her and Sam, I can tell there’s something not right there. But I don’t have a clue what it is, because we haven’t had an actual conversation in months.
That kid was looking for me. I was his intended target, and instead he got Jules. This was more my fault than anyone else’s. I knew Greg would blame himself because he’s our leader, and I knew Sam would blame himself because he was the one carrying the shield. But the reality is that neither of them is responsible; I am. If I hadn’t of hidden from that kid, if I hadn’t of fought that lawsuit, if I hadn’t shot his father in the first place, none of this would be happening.
I tell Greg I’m not leaving, but he doesn’t seem to have any intention of giving up either. He tells me there’s nothing for me to do here. I consider throwing his words back at him. But in the end I do as he says, because a part of me can’t take standing here. I don’t wanna leave Jules, but I can’t just stand around and do nothing.
Sophie and Clark are waiting for me outside. It amazes me that Sophie still puts up with all this crap. I groan and try to change the subject when Greg tries to talk about this, but silently I always agree; I’m shutting her out, when I should be letting her in. She’s my wife, dammit. But that’s the thing, she is my wife. I want to shield her from all the stuff I see. Is that so nuts?
On this particular night though, all I want to do is take comfort in her. I lean into her shoulder, transferring some of the burden I’m walking around with for just a second. She asks about Jules. I tell her she’s stable. But I don’t tell her it’s my fault. Because she doesn’t need to know that. She and Clark don’t need to know I almost got one of my teammates killed.
We get in the car and Sophie drives up to the cottage we rented. Clark, obviously unnerved by the silence, pulls out his PSP. Sophie glances over at me every so often, but I only know this because I see her reflection in the passenger window. I don’t look at her. I can’t.
We get up to the cottage and the first thing I do is check to make sure I still have a cell signal. I do. Sophie comes around and loops her arm around my back. She smiles, although it’s a half-smile at best. I’ve never been more grateful to her, ever. I still don’t know why she bothers with me, but she does.
She makes us something quick for dinner, and we eat in silence. I know, as do they, that no one is going to be able to enjoy this vacation until I get that phone call saying Jules is okay. I hate that I’m doing that to them. They always pay the price of my job. How sick is that? I shut them out because I’m trying to protect them, but by shutting them out I hurt them just as much.
The phone rings and we all jump. I lunge for it, but it’s just a fucking wrong number. I hang up and ever so subtly, the tension sets back in.
Late that night Sophie and I are lying in bed. She’s watching me, I’m watching the ceiling. She leans over and asks me if I want to talk about it. I tell her no, and it’s a reflex. But for the first time, I have second thoughts. I think about what Greg said about not shutting her out, I think about Jules lying in that hospital bed, maybe never having the opportunity to shut anybody out ever again, and then I turn to look at my wife.
“None of this would be happening if it weren’t for me.”
By the look on her face, I can tell that my confession startled her just as much as it startled me. I try to remember the last time I’d been that open with her. I can’t.
“Ed, honey, you can’t blame yourself.”
“And why not?” I hear the harshness in my voice and immediately regret it, but she doesn’t even flinch. She’s probably just grateful to hear me talking about it at all. “The shooter. He was the son of that guy I had to kill a few months back. The one in the square. He was out for revenge. And he was looking for me.”
A part of me wants to stop, because she shouldn’t be hearing this. But when I look at her face, I don’t see any indication that she wants me to.
“Ed, Jules is strong. She’s gonna pull through this. You have to believe that. What you can’t do is blame yourself, because that kid made his own choices. You shot his father to save that other woman’s life. If you hadn’t of done that, there’d be another grieving family out there. And I know you; you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if that was the case.”
That’s why. That’s why after fifteen years, we’re still together. After fifteen years of work baggage piling up, she’s still with me, and that right there is why. She knows me so well it sends chills up my spine.
I lean over and kiss her. “I love you.”
She kisses me back. Soft at first, and then more feverently. She climbs on top of me and I think I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so connected to her.
Then the phone rings again. She climbs off me and I don’t even see regret in her movements. She picks up the phone and after a minute hands it to me. “It’s Greg.”
I sit up and take the phone from her. “What happened?”
“Eddie, she’s okay. She’s awake!” I can hear the relief and, dare I say giddiness, in his voice. I can’t help but crack a smile. Sophie mirrors it.
“That’s great, put her on.” There’s a moment of shuffling and then I hear that familiar voice.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”
That’s my Jules. “Yeah, but then this girl I know, she had to go and get herself shot.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see Sophie sitting beside me on the bed, fiddling with a loose thread on the comforter while she waits for me to finish the call. There’s nothing about her that says she’s impatient, but I make a decision anyway.
“Look, I’m glad you’re okay. And we’re gonna have a conversation when I get back. But for now you need rest. So hang up, kick those guys out of your room, and get some. I’ll see you in a week.”
We say our goodbyes and I replace the phone on its cradle. Then I reach out and pull Sophie back on top of me.
“So she’s okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “We’re all okay.”
FIN