Thomgelica One-shots because not enough people write about them.

Family Is All We Have

Crying seems to be the new norm in the Schuyler-Jefferson household. It echoes through the three-bedroom home at all times of the day. When the sun rises and when the sun goes down.

His newborn daughter has a set of lungs, never-ending wailing coming from her tiny body. Nothing ever seems to soothe her, no amount of food, or diaper changers, or cradling seems to put an end to the crying. Coretta cries, and cries, and cries, tears forever rolling down her chubby cheeks.

Some of Thomas's tears are probably mixed in there too.

Thomas thinks that she misses her mother, he doesn't blame her, he misses Angelica too. But he can't do anything about that, he's tried though, on his worst nights, he's tried. She never comes back to him, not that he ever truly believed she would.

It stings nonetheless.

He wants to quit, probably would have if it weren't for Coretta and her brown eyes that remind Thomas of Angelica, too much at times.

So he continues on, continues to rock Coretta to sleep, continues to sing lullabies, and he continues to give her tired and sad smiles that he's not sure he ever really means.

He continues.

...

The world is blurry when his eyes first open, he's disoriented and dizzy, Thomas hasn't slept this well in three months.

Panic courses through him. Coretta, his three-month-old daughter, the baby girl who never stops crying, and the exact reason why he hasn't gotten a proper sleep in three months.

He didn't wake up to her crying like he normally, always, does. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he gets up, expecting to be standing in the mess that used to be his living room, but instead finds the room spotless. No diapers on the floor, no blankets strewn all over the place, no sign that an incompetent father lives in this house.

Thomas's eyebrows furrow, confusion mixing with the panic inside him; he pushes it away for now, and runs to Coretta's nursery. His shoulders relax, the tension bubbling in him going away when he reaches the crib. She's asleep, peacefully asleep.

"God, I'm sorry, Coretta." He runs a finger over the edge of her crib. "I know this isn't what you signed up for, it's not what me and your mom wanted for you. But... she's gone and I'm trying so hard to be who you need me to be. It's tough though, so I'm sorry."

Coretta doesn't so much as stir, her little body rises and falls, her breaths soft and even. Thomas smiles, his heart full in a way it hasn't been since Angelica passed. He leaves the room, keeping the door open slightly.

The smell of macaroni(?) hits him when he steps into the hallway, confusion quickly familiarizes itself with him for the second time today, and in such a short time span. He follows the smell, leading him to the kitchen, where he finds his two sister-in-laws working together at the stove.

"Uh, what are you guys doing here?" He asks as he walks over to the stove, spotting a pan of macaroni sitting on the counter and another pan of baked chicken next to it.

"Making dinner," Peggy says like it's the most normal and obvious thing in the world. Maybe it would be if this was something they did regularly, if Peggy and Eliza randomly showing up at his house and making dinner was a normal thing. But it's not, they've never done it before, so Thomas is lost.

"But why?"

Eliza freezes, the spoon she has hovering over a pot clattering to the floor, and he wonders why. Peggy finally turns to him, abandoning whatever she was tending to. The two sisters don't say anything as they move to sit at the table, he follows, eyebrows still furrowed. They just might get stuck like that.

Eliza's eyes are watering and Peggy's lips are pursed together like she's trying to keep tears from falling.

"We, we miss Angelica," Eliza says and his heart clenches, because he does too. Thomas misses Angelica with everything in him. "And this house, your house, it reminds us of her, it-" and her voice breaks off, a tear slips down her cheek too.

And this is all new to them, the missing Angelica, the wanting to have her near only to remember that's not possible. It's new, the kind of new that makes Thomas wish things didn't change.

Thomas can't count how many times over the past few months he's seen Eliza and Peggy, and thinks Angelica should be there with them. In the middle, a sparkle in her eyes, because she was always happy around her sisters.

He wonders if they ever spend nights together and feel like something is missing, a piece of themselves gone. Thomas never asks though, he knows the answer, it's how he feels.

"We feel closer to her when we're around you and Coretta," Peggy says when Eliza can't seem to get the words out. "She looks so much like Angelica and it's a weird feeling when I see her but it's not an unwelcome one."

Thomas nods his head, he has nothing to say, really, Peggy has described it so perfectly. Because when he looks at Coretta he sees Angelica, he sees the baby girl that Angelica died bringing into this world, he sees the last piece of his wife.

"I get it." He clears his throat, trying to make his voice sound strong and steady. "And you're welcome here anytime. Family, family is all we have."

Thomas doesn't exactly like the sentiment, the words feel bitter coming out of his mouth, because it's their way of grieving Angelica. And he hasn't exactly mourned for her yet, it means she's really gone, means she's never coming back. He hasn't fully come to terms with that fact until now.

But still, the words are true, family is all they have, always has been, and always will be.