It's me again, here to bring you all some Mothership feels! With the 2nd half of season 2 fast approaching, I wanted to get this in before it starts. It will be three chapters. Three short, very sad chapters. I'm sorry, I can't help it! Again...I'm sorry! It's just...THE FEELS!

He missed her.

He missed the looks they used to share, the words they could exchange with each other through those looks. She always knew when he was upset, when he was happy, when he was scared just by looking into his eyes. And he knew her, too. He knew when she was sad, when she was disappointed in herself, when she blamed herself for not solving a case quick enough, the pride in her eyes whenever he would bring home one of his Straight A report cards, or when he won a chess match.

He missed the smell of coffee in the mornings, how she'd have a cup all ready for him when he woke up, the mug sitting on the counter with two packs of sugar and a little cream next to it. Just how he liked it. She knew it without ever having to ask.

He missed her smile and her sigh of relief when she would take off her heels at the end of a long day at work, when she would slip on her Ugg boots and settle in beside him on the sofa. And what would follow…their talks. She always had time to listen to him, and she promised him she always would.

He missed her more and more with each passing day.

He had been so stupid. He had hurt her, had disappointed her, which was something he had never wanted to do. He thought that if he hid the letters from her, from everyone, that they would go away. But sneaking around was never a good thing. Nothing good ever came from it. He knew this now more than ever. It had cost him the only person who ever made him feel like he belonged.

It had been a long day for him. It was Sharon's birthday, and he went to the corner store next to his new high school and picked up a birthday card for her, even though he knew he couldn't send it to her. He felt horrible for not being able to be there with her, and even more horrible for not being able to even contact her to wish her a happy birthday. Last year on her birthday they had spent it together, he had made her a cake and it was perfect.

Maybe he would be able to give her the card someday. He hoped so. He hoped that she hadn't been alone today, that maybe her kids had flown down for the occasion. At the same time that thought made him sad, because if her kids got to be with her and he didn't, the jealousy inside of him was overwhelming.

The family he had been sent to live with in witness protection was nice enough. They had two kids that were younger than he was, and he knew that when he turned 18 in a few months he'd be on his own. After all, he wasn't their kid and he never would be. This was just a place to stay for now. Besides, even when the trial was over, he'd be an adult, and Sharon wouldn't, and shouldn't, want to take him in again.

When he realized this, he couldn't help it when he started to cry. He hadn't cried at all since the day he had been taken from her, over three months ago, but the thought of never sleeping in that warm bed again, of never again having coffee ready for him in the mornings…

…of really losing Sharon forever. It was too much for him, and he sobbed hard into his pillow. He wished he could just talk to her again, tell her he was sorry, that he'd be better, that he would do everything in his power to make her proud of him.

He wished he could at least wish her a happy birthday.