Quite possibly the longest one-shot I've ever written. For some reason I was thinking on this subject, and a few thoughts came to mind that I was able to put to story.
Captain Jack Wheeler slowly approached his son's hospital room. His mind is still numbed and his arms still remember the pressure from the body of his now dead wife. He was barely aware of the nurse beside him-acting as a guide to the man. He knew he should be feeling something. But what? It was as if his emotions and thoughts were paused, and he couldn't find the play button. All he knew for sure was that his wife-his beautiful, loving, caring, and angelic wife-had just died. While he was holding her. In his arms.
In his mind's eye, he could still see her gorgeous brown eyes clouding over in pain, as she took her last breath. The motion of her body as it shook with that breath was still imprinted into his sense of feeling. His arms were hanging listlessly beside him, but it felt as though they were still holding her, and being impressed with that last heave.
"Mr. Wheeler?" He was jerked out of his reverie by the kind nurse beside him. "You're son is in here." She motioned to his right, and he looked in to see his son lying on the white hospital bed with a cast on his arm.
As he entered the room, he suddenly realized that there was a doctor in there as well. He looked blankly at the man at first, his mind trying to grasp what he was to say. Jack knew it was a question, and he knew it was about Josef, his son, but he couldn't quite figure out what.
Thankfully, the doctor knew what to say. He smiled sympathetically at the soldier and began, "You're son was very lucky." My wife wasn't. "He only sustained a fractured arm and minor concussion."
Jack listened quietly, none of the information registering with his mind, as the older man detailed what was wrong with Josef's arm. He took his gaze away from the doctor and watched his sleeping son as the man finished.
"Mr. Wheeler?"
He looked back at the doctor, automatically replying, "It's Captain."
The doctor nodded. "Thank you. I don't suggest telling your son about your wife yet."
Jack looked at the man blankly. "Then what do I tell him?"
"Nothing. Not for a day or two, anyways. Though his concussion isn't serious, it's still not best to tell someone so young that kind of news so soon after they've been injured themselves. If he asks...I don't know what to tell you. That will be left up to your own judgment." The doctor smiled slightly and left the room.
Once he was alone, Jack stood for a moment. Then made his way slowly to the chair on the other side of the hospital bed. At the moment, Josef was asleep. But, Jack knew concussions. The victim had to be awakened every hour or so-depending on the severity-and then, he knew, Josef would ask. And Jack wouldn't have the faintest idea of what to tell him.
He took a deep, shaky breath, and passed a hand over his face. His mind suddenly remembered how the think. But even then, the thoughts were short and repetitive. My wife is dead. Then, his emotions began working again. Despite himself, for he knew the door to the room was open. He cried. He wept. He sobbed. Then it became clear.
His wife was never going to greet him when he came through the door of his house. He would never dance with her again. He would never kiss her again. He would never be able to see her beautiful smile. Hear her wonderful laugh. Or tell her, 'I love you.' His world had just shattered. And he didn't know what to do.
He-Jack Wheeler-a distinguished Captain of the Navy Seals, a man who could overcome any emotion to accomplish the most difficult of tasks, who could quickly ascertain a situation, realize how many men could be killed in every single possible strategy, and go on with it, had know idea what to do with his life. Every single split decision he had made on the field; every single thought out plan he figured in any strategy room he was in-practically went to waste as his mind scrambled for solutions and came up empty. There was no solution for grief such as his.
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
"Where's Mom?" Josef looked at his father tiredly from his inert position. The boy didn't remember much from the day before. He remembered the car coming straight for them, and flipping through the air before he felt incredible pain. Then, it was all blurry.
His father looked at him with pain filled eyes. He didn't answer immediately, and Josef knew what happened. But he was so hoping his dad had different news. His head hurt and he was so tired. He couldn't deal with what was about to be told to him. Please....
Jack rubbed his his mouth, unsure of how to put it. "Your mother," he began huskily, clearing his throat. "Your mother is," he stopped. "She's dead, Josef."
Josef shook his head slowly. He closed his eyes and tears streaked down his face. Rolling to his side, he curled up and started to sob. His mind accepted the truth, but he hated it with all his being and wished it to be a lie. But even then, he knew it wasn't.
As his sobs shook his body, he felt a weight added to the bedside, and he knew instinctively who it was. For some reason he didn't want this father to be there. His dad was never home anyway. How could he know the pain of this? His dad may be willing to comfort him, but was it sincere? Even with these thoughts, he rolled back over and was quickly pulled into his father's embrace-an action he returned.
"You should've been here more often!" He sobbed into his father's jacket.
"I know," came the quiet reply, breathed into his hair.
Josef thought he felt tears drop upon his head, but he wasn't entirely sure.
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`
The sky was a bright blue, contrasting sharply with the somber moods that day. Josef and his father were both silent on the ride home from the funeral, and didn't talk until they got home. Josef went immediately to his room, while Jack went to his home office to check for missed messages. While he would still be considered a field operative, the captain was going to stay home most of the time, until his son was an age that he could be left home alone.
Josef started to undo the tie from around his neck. His aunt had helped him with it-she had come over before the funeral to help him get ready. Jack was mostly in his office, doing who knows what. He took off the black blazer, and didn't get any farther. He ended up sitting on the side of his bed, watching the beach. For the millionth time he wondered why he insisted on going to that other beach to go surfing. Yes, the waves were much bigger, but the drive ended up being too dangerous.
He saw his best friend-former best friend, he quickly reminded himself-Alec Wood head into the water with surf board tucked under one arm. Josef knew why Alec was at the beach-to cheer himself up after the funeral. A part of him wanted to go out and join Alec, but he didn't want friends any more. It was all too clear to him that to make friends was to set one up for grief and heartbreak. That was too much for him.
The door creaked behind him, and footsteps sounded coming closer to him. At first, he thought it might be his aunt come back to see if he and his dad needed anything. However, the figure that he saw out of the corner of his eye told him otherwise.
"I thought you would've gone out there with Alec," his dad said, sitting beside him.
"Nope."
"Why aren't you?"
Josef thought that his dad wouldn't understand. How could he? Dad didn't do much but work. He lied. Only a half-lie, he told himself. "It doesn't seem right to enjoy myself right after Mom died."
There was silence for a moment. Then Jack spoke. "No. It doesn't. And I won't ever tell you that you should just go out and try to have a good time so soon after a loss. It can get you into a lot of trouble, and your heart won't mend correctly. But, you can't just keep living your life in grief."
Josef heard the emotion in his father's voice, though he wasn't quite sure where to place it. "You don't miss Mom."
He had guessed wrongly. He knew because the sadness suddenly emanated from his dad's body. Jack sighed deeply.
"You have know idea how much I miss her. As soon as she closed her eyes, it felt as if my heart was being ripped out. I wanted to scream...but I couldn't. At first, when you came home from the hospital, I thought that maybe work would help me cope. Thankfully, it didn't take me long to realize that it was never going to help me overcome my grief. I realized that being surrounded by people that I loved, and that loved your mother, would help me cope with it. But I also knew that it would never replace her."
Another silence lapsed between them.
"But," Josef began. "Why have friends? They're just gonna die too. I don't see how they help with it."
Jack smiled sadly. The real reason behind Josef not joining Alec came out. The boy had turned down every visitor at the hospital. And this was why. "Of course they'll die one day. And the pain will never lessen. I've seen so many men and women die in the service, that you'd think I'd finally get used to it. Accept it as a normal part of life, and never feel their losses again. But life doesn't work that way."
He paused, glancing at Josef, who was still looking out the window, then continued. "I don't think anyone can help but make friends. People just aren't meant to be left alone. They're made for fellowship. Otherwise, they become lonely old misers."
Josef said nothing for a moment. Then responded, "It still makes no sense for people to become friends if all that's gonna happen is for someone to die, and make everybody sad."
Again, Jack smiled a little. "Josef, if I thought that way ever since I lost my first army pal, I never would've married your mother."
Josef looked up at him.
"And if that didn't happen, you never would've been born. And, Josef, I can't imagine living life without you. Because in you, I still have some of your mom."
Josef swallowed hard. He tried to blink back the tears he had held in for so long, convincing himself that there was no use in crying if it never brought Mom back. Yet, here they came, in full force. He leaned into his father, who held him for a long time, slowly rocking back and forth. There, they both grieved for the loss of one so dear, as the sun shone through the window, lighting father and son in their tearful embrace.
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