The BLTS Archive - Aftermath
by Exploded Pen (exploded_pen@hotmail.com)

---

Published: 05-26-05

Updated: 06-07-05

Disclaimer, I own nothing.

Ok, first of all huge thanks to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain for
betaing this for me (even if I did go momentarily insane and
completely miss the attachment...) This story is dedicated
to anyone who has ever lost someone.

---
Chapter One:
Family History
---

I never thought I'd have this life.

It all started on Enterprise, where I met and (reluctantly)
admitted deep feelings for her. It wasn't that I didn't love
her-God knows how much I loved that woman. But the rules and
regulations held me back;that sensible voice in the back of
my head would keep reminding me of the rules.

Until one day, I tuned that voice out. Two years later we
married, not even a year later we were back on Earth
expecting our first child.

I'll admit at this point I was terrified. One of the reasons
I loved the Armoury was that everything had a single purpose
and was uncomplicated. Being a Dad would leave me open to
the giant minefield of parenthood. It was my initial sink or
swim moment and my God did I feel like I was sinking...

Still, Hoshi helped me. She was a born mother; it all came
naturally to her. I wasn't particularly enamoured with the
aspect of being a father. The midwives were beside
themselves cooing "Oh isn't he a little poppet! He's
absolutely gorgeous! You must be so proud!" Or at least this
is what Hoshi informed me they said. I was occupied with a
space on the floor, I was never fantastic with excessive
amounts of gore and seeing what I had just seen... urgh.
Nevertheless I roused just in time to hold the baby.

Here was this tiny, pink, screaming... thing... All I could
think was 'WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo?
WhatDoIDo? WhatDoIDo?' Oh yeah, there was no way in hell I
was going to be offered father of the year.

Still, after a while I got used to being a Dad. It wasn't so
hard really, Hoshi did all the hard stuff, I was just there
to muck around with him. Daddy means fun, Mummy means
business, and that was the basic rule of our house.

I suppose that I should've helped out more, I wish I'd done
more. I wish I'd helped Hoshi out, told her how much I
appreciated everything... but I didn't. Feelings were never
my strong point...

Don't get me wrong though-life was good. I might have been
in a permanent state of terror but we had a good life. When
Jonas was 4 Harry came along. Harry was different to Jonas.
As a baby Jonas seemed to cry relentlessly, Harry on the
other hand was the most amiable baby I've ever come across.
He had no worries about being passed around like a parcel.
He didn't even cry when my father picked him up, which left
me thinking 'I've either got the bravest baby in the
universe or the most foolhardy.'

Jonas didn't appreciate Harry's arrival at first: having the
next-door neighbour bring Harry over after Jonas shoved him
through their cat-flap was a big clue.

At this point I began teaching and so did Hoshi, the local
babysitter was dutifully employed and everything was
perfect.

As we all know though, perfection is something that is
attained only after you've realised you've lost it.

When Jonas was 5 we dropped him off at the local primary
school. He gave the nearly weeping Hoshi and I a look that
plainly said 'You expect me to stay here?' After that first
day though we never saw that kid for dust when he entered
the school grounds.

Ella was next to be added to our brood. 'What's one more?'
Hoshi asked me beaming. Sure, just one more. Don't get me
wrong though, I would move heaven and earth for my kids, I
was just constantly terrified I'd kill them. When all of
them were small and asleep I'd poke them just to make sure
they were still breathing, Hoshi despaired of me.

But life was good. Keyword in that sentence-was.

One accident and hospital visit later, our household number
decreased to 4.

Hoshi was dead... and I was alone, left to fend for myself
and our children. If I was terrified before I could barely
function now.

There was so much to do, people to contact, a funeral to
arrange... Kids to tell... .All I wanted to do was crawl
under a rock and hide till the nightmare went away.

Unfortunately I had too much to do to just shut down.
Tempting as it was.

I was now the sole carer for three children. My children.

Luckily, Starfleet had allowed me four months of
compassionate leave. Normally I'd have kicked up a fuss,
wanting to throw myself into work. But I didn't have that
luxury this time; there were children to take care of.

I had never felt more afraid or alone in my entire life.

---
Chapter Two:
Past Tense
---

Time held no meaning. The days passed and still I felt
nothing. Half of me was missing and I could feel nothing. I
just walked around like a zombie, giving what little comfort
I could offer to the kids and haphazardly organising Hoshi's
funeral.

I could still see her though; I could still hear her as I
moved round the house. I even found myself talking to her on
a couple of occasions. If I could still hear her and still
see her, then it meant she wasn't gone.

The kids were inconsolable. I told them first, I felt it was
wrong to tell anyone else before them and I wanted to have
time to grieve alone with them before anyone else stepped in
the 'take care of things'.

I didn't tell them Hoshi had gone away. I told them the
truth. I told them there had been a terrible accident. Harry
didn't understand at first. He asked me when his Mummy was
coming home; he asked if the Doctors were trying to make her
better. I remember nearly crying then and there as I said
"They tried Harry... they really tried... ." Then he
understood. Hoshi was never coming home.

I cried when I saw her dead body and I cried with my
children as they found out. But I wouldn't allow myself to
cry again.

After that there was just the funeral to get through, and
then it would time to pick up the pieces and carry on with
what remained of our lives.

I used to like funerals; I saw it as a final goodbye to the
person in question, a time for letting go. But I didn't want
to say goodbye and I didn't want to let go. I wanted to
crawl into the nearest hole and hide-hide from all emotions
and memories.

The kids sat with Hoshi's parents, Harry sobbing
uncontrollably, Jonas staring straight ahead and studiously
ignoring me. The guests gave me sympathetic looks as I made
my way to the stand. I didn't look at the coffin nearby, I
just stared straight ahead, my hands gripping hold of my
sleeves tightly. I'm surprised the material didn't rip.

"I think Hoshi would be amazed to see so many people here."
God, I hated speeches too, but no one was doing this one
except me. I had no plan, I was doing my worst... ."I guess
she never really knew how many people cared about her... "
This was painful. I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me.
I felt guilty because I wasn't crying. People were staring
at me expectantly, my mouth was moving but no words were
coming out. They exchanged glances and I knew what they were
saying. The usual 'poor man, he hasn't been the same'
conversation that seemed to sweep any room I walked into. So
I started talking. I told them how wonderful Hoshi was, how
much I loved her, how much she would be missed, all the
things you're supposed to.

But, at the back of the room I saw Hoshi smiling.

Nice speech Malcolm. You should really remember to plan them
though. You've got the raving lunatic thing working for you
at the moment.

I left the stand quickly and the funeral continued. Our
friends from the Enterprise stood up and said their part,
Hoshi's mother gave a highly emotional speech that left me
with oozing wounds on the inside of my mouth from biting my
cheeks so hard. But finally, her coffin disappeared. And the
sounds of crying people reached my ears.

I hate funerals.

I hate the sympathy you receive. The knowing looks, the
careful treatment... . I had the overwhelming urge to tell
them all to bugger off. But I didn't. I was one of those
people once too... .

I never was good with emotions.

The wake afterwards was even worse. Jonas ran to his room,
locked himself in and refused to come out. Ella cried
because all these new people were scaring her. I couldn't
blame her. She was in the arms of Ciona, our babysitter.

Hoshi had been nice to Ciona but I never knew they were
close. Still, that didn't stop Ciona from sobbing like her
heart had been ripped out leaving attractive make up smudges
down her face. No wonder Ella was scared, Ciona looked like
her face was melting away.

Harry had somehow blended in with the crowd of people and
would give polite conversation when prompted.

Me?

Well, I had to speak to people. Received the sympathetic
looks, hear the 'poor man' conversations and reminded every
five seconds that Hoshi was a wonderful person. She was so
friendly. She was a good friend.

Some of our old friends from the Enterprise were there,
bearing apologies and messages of deepest sympathy from
Archer and T'Pol, both of whom were on a mission and
couldn't make it. Travis was supported by his fiancée, a
nice young woman-I made polite conversation, avoided all eye
contact and made my way round the room. I didn't want to
spend a long time talking with them. They would want to talk
about Hoshi and I couldn't get into that in front of all
these people who were also dying to talk to me about Hoshi.

Still, Trip was with me every step of the way. He didn't say
much and he didn't treat me like I was about to fall to
pieces. He didn't treat me like some escapee from an insane
asylum about to stick two breadsticks up my nose and sing
'I'm a little teacup'.

It was refreshing to say the least.

"Malcolm dear, how are you doing?" asked Mrs Peacock,
next-door neighbour, probably spawned from Satan himself.
Put on this Earth to state the obvious and smother anyone
within a ten mile radius with her mothering personality.
"Such a sad occasion." No shit Sherlock. "Hoshi was a
wonderful woman. You must feel her loss dreadfully."

I could almost imagine Hoshi stood behind her pulling a
face; Mrs Peacock looked at me, waiting for a response.

I just walked away from her; I walked away from the crowd,
up the stairs and down to Jonas' room. Leaving Mrs Peacock
floundering a moment before Trip engaged her in
conversation.

"Jonas," I called through the door. "It's just me, open the
door."

I wasn't sure I wanted him to open the door, but it wasn't
about what I wanted. It was what he needed.

The door opened and Jonas pulled me inside before carefully
locking the door again.

"Are they gone yet?" he asked.

I shook my head and watched him. He turned away from me and
sat at his desk. He didn't move again. I was concerned,
while Jonas had never been the loudest child he had a
disconcerting habit of constantly fidgeting, he was never
still, always on the move. To see him this still... well, it
was unheard of and quite frankly extremely worrying.

"Did Mum know all those people?"

"Yeah."

"I thought she didn't like Mrs Peacock."

"She doesn't."

"Does anybody like Mrs Peacock?"

I nearly laughed. I sat down on his bed and allowed myself a
small smile. "Mr Peacock must like her or they wouldn't have
had David."

"That doesn't mean he likes her," said Jonas firmly.

"I guess it doesn't."

Silence. Horrible, horrible silence followed. Jonas didn't
move once. Did he want to speak to me? After all, Hoshi had
covered the emotional stuff. Let's face it, emotions were
not my strong point. Ever.

"Jonas?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't want to go down."

"I'm not going to make you," I assured him. I wasn't either;
I didn't want to go down myself-not till everyone had gone
home.

"Dad?"

I looked at him expectantly and waited.

Someone knocked on the door. "Malcolm dear, Ella's vomited
on the carpet." Oh beautiful, beautiful mental image. "She
needs you."

So did Jonas.

"You'd better go then," said Jonas.

"I'll be back later."

I unlocked the door nearly killing Mrs Peacock as I hurried
down the stairs. Ella held out her arms to me sobbing. Ciona
had hold of her and Ella was in a state of terror. She
buried her head in my shoulder and I carried her away. No
doubt someone would clean the floor to help 'the poor man'.

The house was beginning to clear. The lounge smelt like
disinfectant and no one seemed that eager to stay. Even Mrs
Peacock gave in. Soon, only Hoshi's parents and Trip
remained.

And I as returned to the group I could hear Hoshi say Now
that wasn't so hard was it Malcolm? Shame about the puke
though. Still, nice job. I would've liked to know so many
people cared.

One hurdle had been knocked down, just a hundred million
more to go. Talking with Hoshi's parents wasn't going to be
easy. Trip seemed to realise I wanted him to go. He came
over clapped a hand on my shoulder, all but ordered me to
call him later then left.

Mrs Sato had Harry in her lap, the picture of carefully
constructed calm. Mr Sato's face was puffy and red but he
wasn't crying.

"It was a lovely service Malcolm," said Mrs Sato her voice
sounding strained.

"She wouldn't have wanted to be buried."

"No, she wouldn't."

Oh yeah, Malcolm the great and wonderful conversationalist
was making his debut. At this point I wanted to curl up in a
ball, cry and forget this day had happened. But no. The one
thing you have to do when someone dies, is talk. Talk and
talk and talk and talk and then talk some more, because in
the land of sugar and treacle talking about Hoshi doesn't
make me want to physically rip my own heart out jump on it a
few times then kick it into the road for good measure.

I don't think I could cope with feeling that pain again.
Better bottling than collapsing.

I can't cry again.

The uncomfortable silence continued, Ella fiddled with the
buttons on my jacket still looking decidedly pale. Jonas
still hadn't put in an appearance.

And the faces of those at the funeral seemed to drift away
as I stared at a photo of Hoshi and I on the wall. I was
barely following the conversation, stilted as it was.

I hate funerals.

As I lay in the seemingly huge double bed a thought occurred
to me. I was alone now. Free to grieve without the prying
eyes of the entire world. But I couldn't. I couldn't just
let go of my tight hold.

I shook off the covers and stood up. I'd go check on the
kids, make sure they were still alive and sleeping. First
stop, Ella.

She was fast asleep, a perfect miniature of her mother. I
watched her a moment before ducking into Harry's room.

Harry's room was a minefield. With every step you were
liable to step on a toy soldier or pieces of Lego or
discarded crayons and bit's of paper. No matter how careful
I was I usually ended up standing on everything with a sharp
pointy stick part and swearing a blue streak under my
breath.

This time however, I didn't stand on anything as I picked my
way through the mess. I panicked for a second. I couldn't
see Harry anywhere. It was only when I looked harder that I
realised he was in fact bunched up at the bottom of his bed,
sighing softly in his sleep.

Jonas too was sleeping.

So how come I wasn't sleeping? I'd spent many a night on my
own in bed. But tonight sleep didn't come easily.

And when it finally came I was awoken mere seconds later by
a tearful Harry shaking me.

"Daddy," he sobbed holding out his arms.

I lifted him up and held him as he cried. Was his nightmare
about Hoshi? Or the usual faceless people that haunted my
son's dreams? I never found out, Harry wouldn't tell me.

But I didn't get anymore sleep that night.

---
Chapter Three:
Shopping Hell
---

I began to develop respect for Hoshi on a whole new level. I
knew she was fantastic and could manage practically anything
to do with our kids... .but I never had any idea that I
married Wonder Woman.

There was always something: they're hungry they want food,
they're dirty they need cleaning. Jonas has homework he
needs help, Harry can't tie his shoes yet, Ella isn't potty
trained yet she needs a nappy change, the bills need paying,
the house needs cleaning, the cupboard door came off (my
fault-slammed it shut in a moment of stupidity), the kids
need first aid they've lost a leg... .

I didn't know how she did it. But the worst thing, the worst
thing was the need to go food shopping. I hate shopping in
any way, shape or form. It's a form of torture that I was
forced to help with on a weekly basis. Now I had to do it on
my own. Mrs Peacock had offered to help, but to be quite
honest I'd rather gouge out my own eyes than spend another
compulsory second with that woman.

However, ignoring the fact the fridge held only eggs, cheese
and butter was not going to work forever. The kids needed
food. I wasn't particularly bothered with food but they
needed it. It was necessary for their survival or something
like that...

I wasn't in the brightest of moods when I approached a large
box like building labelled 'ASDA'. The boys were at a
friend's house. I might've wanted to keep them by my side to
ensure they were safe but locking in the house was only
going to fuel my growing panic that something would happen
to them... .something I couldn't protect them from... .

Still, with Ella firmly strapped into the trolley, I
determinedly pushed it through the automatic doors and into
shopping hell.

The greeter waved to me cheerily then proceeded to announce
to the entire store that ASDA bread rolls were on sale
today.

"Oh she's gorgeous," an old woman cooed behind me.

Ella giggled and smiled up at me. The old woman beamed then
moved on. I pulled out a carefully prepared list. I
manoeuvred the trolley carefully down the aisles, avoiding
looking at anything other than the shelves lest I see anyone
I knew and be forced to explain why Hoshi wasn't with me.
How they could've missed the funeral with the massive crowd
of people I don't know. But people still seemed shocked when
I had to explain why she wasn't there.

At this point the general feeling of despair that had been
hanging over me suddenly heightened. I knew that know matter
what I did I could never live up to what Hoshi had done and
all she'd accomplished with basically everything. But I
could try my hardest anyway. Trouble was, when it came to
deciding the simplest thing like which spaghetti to
buy...one cooked in less than five minutes but for waiting
an extra minute for the spaghetti to cook I could also get
more for my money... .apparently... .I was out of my depth
and felt like giving up and storming out the shop.

Ella reached out for the enticing packets on the shelves in
my distraction and grabbed hold of one of the boxes. Seconds
later a cascade of super noodles rained down around me.

Normally I would've blushed, apologised like there's no
tomorrow and picked everything up before hurrying away
quickly. Unfortunately I wasn't operating on normal. I was
barely operating on just living, so I lost it.

"For God's sake Ella!" I yelled furiously shoving the
packets back onto the shelf. "You don't just grab whatever
the hell you want!"

Ella started to cry and people stared at me. I could hear
whispered conversations about how shocking it was that I was
shouting at a baby.

They were right, I was shouting at my own daughter, a mere
baby who had barely grasped standing up yet. Red in the face
I pushed the trolley away. Ella kept crying and wouldn't
stop. I had a pounding headache building behind my eyes and
I just wanted to give up and throw myself down on the ground
sobbing at how life had screwed me over.

"Problems sir?" it was one of the oh-so-friendly shelf
stackers.

"No," I replied tightly. "Everything's fine, my daughter
just pulled some packets off the shelf."

"I'll sort that sir," said the shelf stacker, in one of
those voices that made it clear that he thought I was
insane, stupid or just really, really pissed.

I don't think that person will ever know how close he came
to only being able to drink through a straw.

The rest of the shopping trip was a combination of food
horror, Ella crying and me giving anyone within a ten foot
radius a vicious look that actually made a small boy cry.

Oh yeah, I was on a roll.

To top it all off I was late picking up the boys and as soon
as we got home I realised I'd forgotten to pick up something
for Jonas which he needed for school the next day.

The result? Jonas screamed "I hate you! Mummy would never
have forgotten it! Why did she have to die? Why couldn't you
have died!" Then he ran up to his room, slammed the door and
left Harry crying softly.

Parenthood was a sink or swim situation. At that moment in
time I'd sunk so far I couldn't even see the surface
anymore.

I couldn't help agreeing with Jonas though, I wasn't Hoshi-I
never would be. I wasn't as good as she was at running the
household, I couldn't leap walls in a single bloody bound
and save the day. All I could was my best and my best seemed
to be falling drastically short of the mark.

The most irritating thing was people kept trying to contact
me, kept offering to move in and help out for a while. Kept
offering me a bleedin' shoulder to cry on.

But I knew that if I accepted their help, I would never be
able to wean myself off it. I'll admit, I don't accept help
easily.

Hoshi may have died but I had to carry on-just to prove I
could do it and just to ensure that no one knew the horrible
pain and torment the night brought.

Unfortunately, I was not allowed to dwell in my own misery
for long. There was a brisk knock on the door and Mrs
Peacock announced her presence.

"I thought I'd just drop by and see how you were doing," she
explained hanging up her coat and shutting the door. Did she
let herself into everyone's houses in our village or was I
just special?

I made a promise to myself to always lock the door. "Oh I'm
doing just fine," I said politely.

"I made you a lasagne as I know what with everything that's
happen you probably don't feel up to cooking," she said
expertly navigating her way into my kitchen.

At this point I started to fantasise about all the different
ways I could kill her. Good old spur of the moment stabbing
with a butcher's knife or the more creative death by
lasagne? The possibilities were endless.

"So how have you been, Malcolm dear?" she asked taking in my
appearance.

I'll admit, I was a little less put together than usual but
I was still infinitely more presentable than most people.
Still, I didn't think my appearance warranted a look that
clearly suggested she believe I had completely let go.

"I'm fine."

"And the children? They must be missing their mother
dreadfully."

No, really! Here's me thinking they hardly cared at all! My
God, this woman must've received the MOSTBO award-Master Of
Stating The Bloody Obvious.

"Look, I don't want to sound rude but I've got lots of
things to do so if you wouldn't mind... .?"

She gave me a sympathetic look. "Anything I can do, Malcolm
dear?" Oh Good God no.

"No, I'll be fine."

"If you ever need me you know where I am," she said patting
my arm.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said gripping the kitchen
counter tightly. Yeah, I'd call Mrs Peacock over... when
Hell froze over and I was ice skating with Satan.

She favoured me with another sympathetic smile. "Now, all
you need to do is heat up that lasagne. The children will
love it I'm sure-my David always loved my lasagne."

I almost did a double take. Had I not just requested that
she leave! Had I just imagined that conversation?

"Before I forget," the she-Devil continued. "I took the
liberty of looking out the child psychologist that we sent
David to. He's excellent, a total miracle worker. It'll be
good for the children to have someone to talk to."

I did my best goldfish impression for several minutes before
finally managing to form a coherent sentence. "Thanks Mrs
Peacock, I'll be sure to look into that. I'm sure the
lasagne will be lovely. But as you know, I'm really, really
busy at the moment... "

"Well, would you like me to help out?"

NO!

"That's very kind of you to offer but I'll have to decline.
Bye Mrs Peacock."

She looked almost insulted, and then she appeared to change
her mind, patted my arm again and swept into the hallway. As
soon as she left I locked the door... and the back door for
good measure.

I tried to talk to Jonas later on. He refused to talk to me.
I called him down for dinner and he ate so fast I began to
wonder if he was even chewing his food before he swallowed
or whether it was some freakish variation of osmosis that
allowed him to absorb food without any effort in chewing
required.

Harry was quiet. Too quiet. The boy spoke less than three
words a day which was unnervingly to say the least. Usually
the problem was trying to get him to shut up for more than
five seconds.

That night I watched them all sleep again. I reflected on
the fact I might actually be turning into some sort of
mutant mother hen-desperate for them to try and get back to
normal after Hoshi's... .and then trying to protect them for
everything in the world and wanting nothing more than to
seal up the entire house and coat everything in bubble wrap.

Ok, that sounded drastic even for me.

I couldn't deny my children had changed, well the boys had.
Ella didn't know anything is wrong. Or at least I don't
think she did. That was probably something that would crop
up when she's at school, the dreaded 'How come I don't have
a mummy like the other kids?'

Harry just withdrew. You could never get that kid to shut up
and now, when I wanted him to communicate more than ever, he
barely said a word. His eyes would go wide and he'd either
nod or shake his head in response. Sometimes he'd seek me
out and stare at me for second then go back to whatever he
was doing.

Jonas just hated me. I am not Hoshi. I am his father not his
mother and therefore he hated me. I tried to talk to him but
he just glared at me.

I cracked weak jokes, made a half hearted attempt to talk to
him about Hoshi before drying up completely and I tried to
just be sympathetic.

Nothing worked and I'm just too... .well I just didn't quite
know what to do. Emotions were never my strong point,
dealing with them, talking with them or even acknowledging
them sometimes was not something I liked doing.

I hadn't even sorted through Hoshi's things yet. The will
had yet to be read but I didn't care.

I couldn't quite bring myself to sort through her things. Or
even move them from their usual places. Her things still
littered our bedroom because moving them would mean that she
is truly gone. Leaving them there somehow makes everything
less hopeless.

Unfortunately, I'm not an optimistic person by nature.
Whatever comfort I generate from anything is crushed the
second I exit its proximity. I don't know if it's truly hit
me that she's gone yet.

I felt guilty that I hadn't really mourned her going. I felt
guilty because I'd only cried twice.

Should I feel guilty? Or should I keep doing what I'm doing?
Or should I just give into the depression completely, let
the house go to ruin, the kids run free and wild and ignore
all attempts at conversation from the outside world?

Tough decision. The latter was so very tempting... .

---
Chapter Four:
What Kind Of Man?
---

It'd been about two and a half months since Hoshi... let's
just say two and a half months had passed. Everything was
beginning to run a little smoother-until you scratched a
little bit under the surface.

Unfortunately, I still didn't want to acknowledge it.
Acknowledging it would mean I'd have to deal with all those
pesky emotions again. Besides, everything seemed fine. Jonas
hated my guts, Harry had developed the ability to become
invisible and Ella was still blissfully unaware of anything
except toys, food and that oh so enticing cupboard which for
some strange reason Daddy had locked to prevent her from
getting in.

But, life had a habit of screwing me over and so I wasn't
even that surprised when I got a call from school requesting
my presence.

I stared at Ella and spent a few seconds debating whether or
not to leave her with Mrs Peacock, the decision was easy. I
wouldn't leave my worst enemy in the hands of Mrs Peacock.

So Ella was bundled into the pushchair and I hot-footed it
over to the school, where the Miss Trunchbull look-alike
told me to 'sit down and wait to be seated!' I marvelled at
how I had faced down many aliens in my time only to be
reduced to a nervous wreck by the school receptionist. Oh,
how times had changed.

The door to the headmaster's office swung open and he strode
out. I instantly felt ridiculous. The man was at least 6ft 6
and I had to crane my neck just to see his face. I briefly
wondered if he bent down to talk to the children or whether
he used his height to his advantage and simply put the fear
of God into them.

"Mr Reed?" he asked glancing down at me. "If you'd like to
come with me please."

It wasn't a request. It was an order and I instantly felt
insulted, though not entirely sure why. It could've been
that some 6ft 6 giant with hands the size of dustbin lids
had decided to treat me like a naughty schoolchild. Either
that or I was just irritated that he thought he could order
me around; he wasn't my superior or my parents.

I pushed Ella into the office and took a seat. He leaned
against his desk, towering over me.

"We've called you here today because we've had some
difficulties with your sons," he began nodding to the
teacher stood in the corner. I instantly recognised her to
be Jonas' teacher, a woman somewhat challenged when it came
to matching colours and patterns. At this point I sensed
this was going to be more about Jonas than Harry, after all
how much trouble can one kid get into if he wouldn't even do
anything but the bare minimum?

"What kind of difficulties?" I asked.

"Well," he began. "We've taken into account your recent...
loss." I stiffened but said nothing. "But I'm afraid Jonas'
behaviour is simply unacceptable. He's starting fights in
the playground, his work is slipping and he's not
interacting well with the other children."

"He's starting fights?" That caught my attention at least.
Jonas had never ever started fights, he'd have the
occasional fight but they were usually over and done with
swiftly. He was one of those people who simmered when
provoked; it took a lot to get him mad usually. Unless he
was talking/shouting/screaming at me, in which case anger
came easily.

He nodded and motioned for Jonas' teacher, Mrs Riddle, to
continue. She stepped forward and took a deep breath. "I'm
worried that his mother's death... "I twitched
involuntarily. "Has unsettled him. Has he talked to you
about his feelings at all?"

I shook my head. The only thing I knew about Jonas' feelings
was that he was really, really angry-with me mainly.

"He used to be such a sweet boy," she sighed. "Now he talks
when I'm talking, he answers back and he starts fighting and
arguing with his classmates. I very worried about him; Miss
Miller is equally as worried about Harry. She says he's
become withdrawn and says very little during the day."

"Mr Reed," the head interrupted. "We believe it would be a
good idea if you took your children to see a psychologist.
The loss of a parent... " I twitched again. "Can often be
extremely traumatising."

These people weren't telling me anything I didn't already
know. But they were reminding me of everything I had
ignored. I was focusing on making it through each and every
day without breaking down, but in the process I was ignoring
my children. Not on a physical level but on an emotional
level.

Ella squawked indignantly and I lifted her from the
pushchair. I held her somewhat protectively as I watched the
two people stare at me intensely.

"These issues need to be addressed Mr Reed," said the
headteacher firmly. "This fighting and anti-social behaviour
will simply not do. We expect more from our students here."

"We have of course already spoken with Jonas and Harry,"
said Miss Miller.

I frowned. They both stared at me expectantly. I considered
keeping my mouth shut, I considered being polite, but the
little voice in my head broke free.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked simply. "Do you want
me to argue?"

"I would've thought you'd care a little more about your
children's wellbeing," said Miss Miller bristling. "Your
sons are deeply traumatised and your daughter will probably
follow in their footsteps if nothing is done to help them!"

Woah. I was pretty sure she couldn't say that to me, like I
was also pretty sure she didn't have a degree in psychology.
Luckily the head decided it was time for her to return to
her class-which was actually pretty lucky for her as I was
well on my way to being really, really angry.

"What I'm sure Miss Miller meant," the head continued
smoothly. "Was that your sons need some help with dealing
with their feelings."

"I know that," I said staring at him. I'll admit I was
satisfied to see him shift uncomfortably. "But I also know
that a few pretty words will not make their troubles go away
and I also know that they have to come to terms with this in
their own time."

"That doesn't mean you can't help them," he reminded me
gently. "Mr Reed, I'm sure I don't need to remind you that
they are only children, not adults."

What could I say to that? He was right in a roundabout way,
I'd done everything to try and help them without actually
helping them. Maybe I was at fault. In fact scratch the
maybe.

Ella began to fidget incessantly and I realised that the
Head had now said his piece.

"Well, thank you for calling me in," I said simply.

"It's not wrong to admit you need help," he said. The man
suddenly seemed less imposing but I was tired of people
telling me what to do. I was tired of people trying to run
my life because they knew what was best for me. Everyone
knew what was best except me.

I was tired of it all, and yet I was angry because at the
same time I knew they were right.

"I think it would be best if you took the boys home now," he
said. "They're waiting in reception for you."

I strapped Ella back into her chair and sighed. God, the
truth hurt.

I nodded to the Head teacher and moved back into the
reception. Harry flung himself on me and Jonas got to his
feet, shouldered his backpack and stared at me.

"Home time," I said mildly.

The walk home was conducted in silence. Torturous thoughts
danced round my head and by the time we reached home I was
ready to scream.

"I'm in trouble," said Jonas quietly.

"You and me both, son. Now go sit down, I want to talk to
you both."

I set Ella down with her toys and joined the boys on the
sofa.

"I've been talking with your teachers," I began. I paused; I
had lost all idea of what to say.

Harry slipped off the sofa. "Where are you going?"

"Loo."

"Are you gonna shout?" Jonas asked glaring.

"No."

He looked surprised. "Why not?"

I shrugged and answered "There's nothing to shout about." I
had learnt from my years of work in the Armoury and then
teaching that there were ways to get a point across without
shouting and still getting the desired result.

He fell silent.

"What's wrong Jonas?"

"You don't really want to know," he said crossing his arms.
"You don't even care."

"What do you mean you don't think I care! Of course I care!"

Jonas leapt to his feet and screamed "No you don't! You do
everything except talk! You won't talk about mum and you
cringe everytime her name is mentioned!"

Then he ran off. "Jonas!" I yelled. "Jonas, get back here!"

Ella started to cry at the loud noise and Harry joined her,
rubbing his arm where Jonas had brushed past him. To be
honest, I felt like joining them. I sank back in despair and
Harry climbed onto my lap seeking comfort. At least he still
liked me.

It was only when they were all safely tucked away in bed
that I finally began to process the days events. However, my
destructive thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door.

It was Trip.

"Hey Mal."

"Hello Trip."

He came in without another word and I closed the door behind
him. He sprawled out on the sofa and stared at me intently.
"You look like crap."

Oh yeah, Trip could never be accused of being blunt.

"Thanks for that."

There was a long silence before I finally spoke up. "Is
there any particular reason for the visit, Trip?"

"Other than the fact I haven't heard from you since the
funeral and the fact that you are extremely bad at taking
calls, no. No particular reason at all," he replied
stretching out.

"I've been busy, kids to run, houses to feed... " It was a
poor joke and I knew it. "Do you want a drink?"

"You ok?" he asked me.

I stared at him, a lump rose in my throat. The customary
response 'fine' played about on my lips before it died away.

"No, I'm not ok. The house is falling down around my head.
Jonas hates me, he's in trouble at school, and his work is
suffering... Harry. God, remember how hard it was to get him
to shut up? Now he's so withdrawn he's starting to
camouflage against the walls. Ella is still the same because
she's too young to realise that things are any different...
" The lump in my throat suddenly prevented all speech. My
vision suddenly went suspiciously blurry and I realised to
my horror that I was on the verge of crying.

I hadn't cried since... well lets just say I hadn't cried in
about two months. I wanted to be alone, I wanted Trip to go.
Now. I didn't want him to see me collapse.

Did I? Maybe I did. Maybe I thought he could help. Maybe
there was a little part of me that wanted Trip to push the
issue, to confront me about everything and to force me to
accept what had happened.

Instead I made up some excuse about needing a drink and
walked into the kitchen. I wasn't even aware Trip followed.
I was sobbing before I'd even managed to switch the kettle
on.

Everything that I'd held inside me was released. I was like
a bottle of fizz that had been shaken too much and was now
exploding over everything.

"I can't do this," I sobbed slipping down onto the floor. "I
can't do this without her!"

"You can," said Trip sitting down beside me. "You've been
doing brilliantly, Mal."

"No, I haven't!" I was crying so hard I could barely see,
but for once I didn't care. "I got called into the school
today; the teachers want me to take the boys to a
psychologist. Jonas has been acting up and Harry just won't
do anything! I'm losing control of them... " My shoulders
shook and my voice trembled but I couldn't stop. "I'm one of
the best officers Starfleet has to offer, I've been told I'm
calm and collected during a crisis. I've created a shielding
device... but I can't comfort my own sons or be there for
them when they need me. What kind of man does that make me?
What kind of father am I?"

"They weren't the only ones to lose someone," Trip reminded
me gently. "You aren't superman Malcolm, no one expects you
to be either."

"Daddy?"

It was Jonas. I could barely make him out through my tears.
He looked so helpless and alone standing in the doorway.

"Go back to bed, Jonas," said Trip softly.

Jonas ignored him and continued to hover tentatively in the
doorway. I hurriedly scrubbed at my face with my sleeve, he
stared at me a second longer before fleeing to the safety of
his room.

What did I do? I cried well into the night, with Trip at my
side. The next morning he called in work to say he wasn't
going in, he sorted out the kids got them all settled and
took care of them while I sat in my room staring at a photo
of me and Hoshi. I didn't say a word to anyone all day. But
I think Trip knew how much I appreciated everything he did.

---
Chapter Five:
The Closure Of A Grave
---

The day after I'd finally broken down I convinced Trip to go
home. I wanted to be alone with my children – after spending
a sleepless night dwelling on all my shortcomings as a
father I finally had some idea of what to say.

I faltered at Jonas' door. We hadn't exactly been on
speaking terms recently; in fact he hadn't said a word to me
since he walked in on me in the kitchen. I didn't even know
why he had come downstairs in the first place.

He was reading when I entered, sort of curled up on his bed
with his back facing the door.

"Jonas?"

He sat up and stared at me.

"Can I sit down?"

He nodded and made space for me to perch on the end of his
bed.

"I heard what you said to Uncle Trip," he said gazing at me.
"I've never heard you cry like that before."

I shifted uncomfortably. "I don't cry like that very often."
Very true, I didn't cry like that on a daily basis and
certainly not in front of people like I had done the night
before last. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared!" Jonas visibly bristled and he glared at
me.

"Startled then," I amended, resisting the urge to smirk. He
really could be so like his mum sometimes...

"Was it because of mum?" he asked shifting a little closer.

I nodded. "I miss her."

"I didn't think you missed her," said Jonas sounding
surprised. "You didn't cry or anything and you never talked
about mum. You didn't even like it when somebody else talked
about her!"

"That doesn't mean I don't miss her." God only knows how
much I miss Hoshi. I do anything to have her back...
anything.

Jonas seemed satisfied with my answer. But he still kept his
distance.

"Are you angry because you thought I don't care... or are
you angry because she died and not me?" I asked finally.

Jonas looked away and said his response so quietly I
couldn't hear it.

"What was that?" I asked lightly, touching him on the
shoulder.

"Why did she have to die?" he whispered looking up again.
"Why couldn't it have been someone else?"

This I had an answer for. "Because accidents happen. We
can't predict when and where and we can't predict who will
get hurt. It wasn't someone purposely setting out to hurt
mum. It was a terrible, terrible accident and there hasn't
been a day gone by that I haven't asked why she was taken
and not me. If I could've taken her place I would've done.
But I didn't and now I'm left to do the best job I can."

He didn't have anything to say to this and I panicked
momentarily wondering if I'd said the right thing-if there
was ever a right thing to say.

"I don't hate you," he said eventually. "A little bit
before, but I don't hate you now."

"I know." Blatant, blatant lie, I thought, he hated me with
every fibre of his being. Still, I might as well persevere
with the conversation, considering I still had a million and
one clichés to trot out yet.

Jonas suddenly crawled into my lap and hugged me. "I want
mum back," he whispered burying his face in my shoulder.

"Me too, Me too."

I held him a while then said "We still need to talk about
the fighting though... but not right now."

Jonas pulled away and stared at me. "Daaaaaad!"

Ok, so I had almost made it through a conversation without
doing something stupid. I had almost managed to talk through
some emotion, and I think I'd made a weeny bit of progress
regarding my relationship with Jonas.

One small step for me, one giant leap for fatherkind!

"You can always talk to me Jonas," I said.

"What if I don't want to talk to you?" he asked a ghost of a
grin on his face.

"I haff vays of making you talk," I replied smiling. Jonas
grinned, then his grin faded slightly.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" I stared at him expectantly.

"Can we go visit mum?"

Whatever I was expecting him to ask it wasn't this. I knew
he'd probably want to go see Hoshi's gravestone one day (not
that there was anything in the grave beneath, it was more a
memorial, her ashes had been spread elsewhere) but I didn't
think it would be this soon. Ok, I was lying; I didn't want
it to be this soon.

"Sure," I managed.

"Tomorrow?"

I nodded, although my heart sank. I wasn't ready to face
Hoshi and if I may be completely childish here, there was a
small part of me somewhere that was holding out for never
having to face Hoshi. But then again, I'm a Reed, and so are
my children. We don't run from anything... well, we might
hide for a while first, but we always come out cannons
blazing in the end!

He gave me a wide smile and another hug. He returned to his
book and I got up to leave.

Sure, all our problems hadn't been solved. The best, most
comforting words in the world couldn't solve the problem. At
the risk of sounding clichéd, and like one of the buffed-up,
idiotic Yanks in those stupid, stupid films they used to
show on Movie Night, you never know what you've got until
you come this close to having it pulled right out from under
your feet. OK, so my kids weren't perfect. Honestly, I'd
have been disappointed (and not a little suspicious!) if
they had been. And it took something like the death of the
one person I truly fell in love with for me to bond properly
with my children.

I took the kids so Hoshi's gravestone the next day.
Everything seemed so peaceful as I stared at the engraved
words. Harry sighed and kept tight hold of my hand.

Jonas stared at the gravestone, his lips moving slightly but
no sound escaped them.

"Is this where mummy is?" Harry asked quietly.

"Nah," said Jonas quickly. "But we can talk to her here,
right Dad?"

"Of course," I agreed. Jonas seemed to have aged right
before my eyes. In that moment he reminded me so much of
Hoshi it hurt.

"D'ya think she was hurting?" Harry asked, louder this time.

"No." I knew that in her final moments lying sprawled out on
the pavement Hoshi was probably in more pain than any person
had any right to be in... but I wasn't going to tell Harry
that. I might not have used the old 'Mummy's gone away'
story when I told them Hoshi had... died. But I wasn't going
to tell him that his mother probably died in agony.

He nodded apparently satisfied. Ella shifted slightly in her
sleep and I adjusted my grip on her accordingly. Jonas moved
slightly closer to the gravestone and just stared at it for
a moment.

"Are you going back to work soon?" he asked suddenly
whipping round to face me.

"I've got a little over a month left before I have to go
back," I told them.

Jonas nodded, Harry walked over to him dropping my hand. I
watched them cautiously.

"Bye mummy," said Harry quietly, gazing at the engraved
words a moment before returning to my side. "Daddy, can we
go home now?"

I watched Jonas a second. "You ready to go home, Jonas?"

He turned and nodded.

The journey home for once wasn't silent. Harry talked about
everything; including the thoughts that popped into to his
while he was speaking. It made for... interesting
conversation to say the least, a conversation Jonas
participated in minimally.

I finally understood why Harry had been so withdrawn though.
Seeing him at Hoshi's gravestone had made me realise that
all he really wanted to do was to say goodbye.

I suppose goodbyes bring closure.

I remained undecided about the psychologist though. It
seemed to me like the psychologist was an easy way out, a
way of understanding what was going on in their heads
without actually making an effort to understand in the first
place.

After the visit, Harry certainly seemed more like his old
self, chatting away about anything and everything. Jonas was
more reflective, but he didn't seem angry anymore. He didn't
seem like he was ready to fight against me anymore and for
that I was grateful.

I still had to discuss his behaviour at school though. I
waited till Harry and Ella were safely tucked away in bed
before broaching the subject.

"Jonas, remember when I said we needed to talk about you
fighting at school?"

He sighed and flopped down on the sofa. "I didn't start it;
it was all Danny Riley's fault."

I blinked. For one, I wasn't expecting him to say that and I
also had no idea who Danny Riley was. "Why? What did he do?"

And so the entire story was poured out. It was a story of
tragic heroes fighting vicious enemies who were seemingly
relentless in their attack. I had to admit, Jonas could spin
a good story when he wanted to.

"Alright," I said simply. "No lecture. But if I ever, ever
get another call from school about you fighting son, the
best story in the world wont save you from being punished,
whether he provoked you or not."

"But you used to fight!" Jonas argued.

"Entirely different situation," I said. "Besides, I am
trained to fight and you aren't."

"Can I learn then?"

I smiled. "Sure, son." Jonas beamed. "But not until you
learn to stop scrapping on the playground."

Jonas scowled and switched on the TV. I watched him,
grinning to myself.

I'm no fool. Jonas and I have still got a long way to go
before we can get through all of this, wade through all of
the problems and deal with them. Only Hoshi could solve the
problem and she wasn't here so I'd have to improvise. Still,
we had at least made a step in the right direction, a tiny,
baby step... but it was progress none the less.

---
The End
---
©Exploded Pen 2005