Realisation
 

I looked up as Jim walked into the bullpen, by himself for once. "Hey Jim," I called, "where's the shadow?"

A dark look crossed his face as my partner made frantic movements for me to shut up.  "He's back at the Loft," and Jim walked off, leaving it at that.

"What's up with him?"

My partner scooted over to my desk. "I didn't get a chance to tell you.  Ellison and Sandburg have a few weeks off."

"What happened?" I asked.

"You missed all the trouble while you were at that seminar.  Blair went camping with a friend.  She was pregnant.  They got stuck, snowed in, and she went into labour.  Sandburg delivered the baby, but..." he trailed off, looking down into his cup of coffee. "Something went wrong.  She died.  Badly."

"Jesus."  I said softly.  The thought of Sandburg trapped in a tent with a dying woman...

"Jim and Simon, when they found Sandburg..." he broke off, eyes haunted.  "Blair was the only one down as next of kin for the kid."

I nodded slowly. Christ, losing a friend is bad enough,  but to lose one in front of you, left with her child... "Poor Sandburg must be pretty shaken up."

"Doesn't even cover it.  He knew the girl since they were kids.  The funeral's on Saturday.  We're all going, lending moral support to the kid."

And now it's the funeral.  Sandburg's sitting in the front row.  Front row is reserved for family, some part of my mind dregs up.  He's the only one there.  Oh, Jim's beside him, and Simon, but he and the baby are the only ones that belong.

And me.

But I'm not sitting up there.  I'm too afraid.

Too afraid to tell the truth.

Too afraid to face the truth.

"Jim."  I caught his arm as he stepped out of Simon's office.  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.."

His face softened. "You didn't know."    Together we walked over to the break room.

"How's Sandburg holding up?"  He headed for the coffee machine, but I ushered him to a chair.  He looked wiped.  "I'll make the coffee."

"Thanks.  It's been rough.  The baby wakes up at all hours, Sandburg still insists on doing everything he used to before.." he blew out a breath forcefully.  "It's been close to hell." he admitted frankly.

I couldn't believe the change.  Less than four years ago, Ellison wouldn't have even wanted to drink coffee with me.  But that day, he sat there at the table in the break room, letting me take care of him, support him.  Sandburg sure had opened him up.

Sandburg.  Poor kid.

I turned, cups in hand. "Jim, I get off soon, would it be ok if I drop in later? You know, say hello to the kid, lend some moral support."

He looked up and nodded. "Yeah.  Thanks.  I think he'd appreciate it."  He paused.  "So would I."

Sandburg sure had changed the guy. I smiled and handed him his coffee.

The priests raises his hands and face toward the sky.  "Oh Lord God," he intones "take Dayna into your everlasting love..."

Everlasting love.  I though I had that once. It was incredible.  Five months of passion and love.

And then she pushed me away.

 "I'm leaving." she said, eyes looking at the ground, the ceiling, anywhere but my face.

My heart thumped painfully in my chest.  "Cascade?  Can we stay in touch?"

"No, not Cascade.  You."

I know why now.

I tapped on the door to the Loft.

"Umm, hang on a minute."  I could hear Sandburg moving around. "Oh, right, yeah.  The door's open!"  He called.

I pushed the door open and walked in.  "Hey, Sandburg."

"Oh hey!"  He said.  "Didn't realise you were back from that seminar.  Jim's out getting some takeaway."

"Actually, I'm here to see you.  How're you holding up?"

He gestured around the living room, the piles of papers and cups scattered around.  "Been kinda swamped with everything and well, um, everything."

"I know."  I said softly.  "Jim told me."

"Oh, yeah, right."  he studied his feet.

The awkward moment was broken by a soft wail from his bedroom. "Oh man, Dayna must be hungry.  I'll be back in a sec."  he disappeared and came out a few minutes later with a baby in his arms.  "Shh.  It's ok, I got you, I've got you.  Shh."  he jiggled her slightly against his chest and walked across the lounge room, towards a bottle of milk in a pan on the stove.  Pulling it out, he moved to the couch, the entire time seemingly oblivious of my presence.

"Here you go..."   He held the bottle up and the baby went for it eagerly.  "Whoo, careful."  he teased gently.  "You're just like you mother was.  One sniff of food..."  he trailed off and looked up, eyes bright with tears.  "Sorry."

I couldn't believe that he was apologising to me. "It's ok."  I teased.  "You're bound to be emotional with all those hormones."

He looked at me open mouthed for a moment, then grinned.  "Oh yeah?  Then what's Jim's excuse?"  He looked down at the baby, and pulled the empty bottle away. "Um, can you hold her for a little while?  I need to clean this bottle."

I smiled as he transferred the tiny bundle into my arms and watched him as moved to the kitchen and put a kettle of clean water on to boil.   "We're trying to find out who the father is."  he called over his shoulder as he worked.

I sighed and leaned back on the couch "I don't envy your job."

"She said he was a cop."  Sandburg wiped his hands on a cloth and sat down on the couch opposite.  "Major Crimes."

"Did she give you any ideas?"  I asked.

Sandburg shook his head.  "She couldn't.  She said he was part of Major Crimes, and then.."  he stopped, and I reached across and put a hand on his shoulder.  He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded.  "Thanks."

I looked down at the little bundle in my lap.  "What's her name?" I lifted the baby slightly in my arms.

"Dayna.  Like her mother."  Blair sat on the edge of the couch, brushing a hand across the baby's cheek.

"Dayna."  I rocked the baby gently in my arms.  "I knew a Dayna once."  Sandburg gave me a sharp look. "It was ages ago."  I said dismissively.  It can't be the same one. I told myself.  She left.  I had to believe it.

"Dayna Jackson." Sandburg said, watching my face.

Dayna Jackson.   Oh God, it was.  That meant...I looked down into the child's face.  Nine months. Do the math.  *Mine.*

*My* beautiful baby daughter.

My reaction was covered by the fact that my beautiful baby daughter had just dumped a large amount of her breakfast over my shirt.  Sandburg chuckled and pulled her out of my arms.  "You'd better go and clean up in the bathroom."  he nodded in that direction while mopping the milk off Dayna's face and jacket.

The priest nods slightly and soft music begins to keen through the church.

'Hymn to the sea' from Titanic.

She loved that music.  She loved that film. I remember our first date, when we went to see it.
She cried at the end.  Not for that Leonardo DiCaprio character, she said, but for everyone else, the fifteen hundred people who died for no reason, other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Fifteen hundred people.

If I close my eyes, I can still see her.  The cinema house lights soft on her hair as she cried without reservation, not caring what others thought.

I think that was when I fell in love with her.

I locked the bathroom door and leaned against it.

God.  My Baby.

My child.

My Dayna, dead.

Oh, Christ. I buried my head in my hands.

There was a tap on the door as Blair called my name.  "You ok?"

"Yeah."  I said, amazed by the calm in my own voice. "The smell just got to me."  I forced myself to laugh.  "Pretty stupid, huh?"

I heard Sandburg laugh as he moved away from the door.  "Nah.  Sour milk does that to me too."

I'll tell him later, I promised my reflection, too pale in the mirror after the funeral

The funeral is over.  I walk to the side of the grave, to where Sandburg is still standing.  Dayna's grave.

I'll tell him.  I promise myself.  He has to know.  I have to let him know.  Now.  He looks up as I reach him, Dayna - my baby - at his chest, cooing softly as she sucks on the end of his tie.

"Sandburg."  My resolve fades.  "Blair.  I wanted you to know - "  I can't tell him.  What would he think?  What would they do?  "I'll be there if you need."  I put a hand on his shoulder, then walk away, hating myself more with every step.

I'm such a goddamned coward.

All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
Last modified: November 12, 2010