Crashing Down

Interlude

So this is just bits and pieces of the years between Part One and Part Two. That's why it's rather long.

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Gillian screamed as her daughter left her body. She knew she was probably close to cutting the circulation off in Emily's hand but she didn't care.
She finally let go and threw head back onto the pillow behind her head. She cried as the little baby wrapped in blankets was placed in her arms. She wasn't sure if they were tears of pain because of what she'd just gone through, tears of sadness because she wasn't ready to do this without Cal, or tears of happiness because the daughter she'd always wanted was in her arms. Likely all three she decided as she kissed her baby's forehead.
"Hi, Isabella Rose. I'm your mommy. I'm going to try my best to take care of you. I love you so much, sweetheart." She whispered in a tiny ear.
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Nobody knew for certain exactly when Gillian Foster finally started to return to them. It was long after she'd started coming back to the office. She hadn't stepped foot in there since the day Cal died. The first day she came back, everyone was on eggshells around her. Lately, it was like her mind was a box of fireworks and her hands played recklessly with matches. They waited for her to break but she never did. Ria always suspected it was because she had Isabella. A part of Cal to hold on to. Gillian brought her daughter with her to work every day, up until she started school.
Eventually, everyone around her slowly noticed color start to return to cheeks, light come back to her eyes. It wasn't as bright as it had been, Emily was sure it never would be, but it was better than the broken woman she had been for months after her dad died.
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She walked across the stage and received her piece of paper and a handshake. She was finally done with school. She looked out and her searching eyes finally landed on her mom, Gillian and Izzy, Eli, Ria. Everyone was there. Except for the one person she needed the most.
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Gillian watched as Eli proposed to Ria right there in the lab, in front of everybody, in the middle of a case. She thought back to a conversation she'd once had with Eli.
"Are you ever going to find someone else?"
Gillian felt her face flash anger before she realized it wasn't an unreasonable question. But her answer was still the same.
"I'm his. For better or for worse."
"I think this counts as worse. It's been two years. And you're still constantly on the verge of falling apart."
"I knew it was worse the day I met him."
Gillian was still hopelessly in love with Cal. He had been a borderline-sociopathic narcissist with abandonment issues and severe mood swings but he had been her borderline-sociopathic narcissist with abandonment issues and severe mood swings.
But she was in love with a memory. An echo from the past. Another time. Another her.
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"Mom, are you okay?"
It took Gillian a moment to realize that Emily was talking to her.
"What did you call me?"
"Sorry, I just thought, since that what you've always been to me, I would call you Mom. But I can keep calling you-"
"It's fine." Gillian interrupted. "I would like that."
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Eli and Ria stood in front of everybody but the empty space in the front row beside Gillian stood out like a candle in the dark. Emily was standing beside Ria, next to Ava; they were her bridesmaids. Isabella, her little flower girl, was standing in front of her sister.
Eli always thought the only thing he'd see on his wedding day was Ria, standing right in front of him. But the empty seat was prominent in his mind and neither he and Ria were oblivious to the tears on Foster's cheeks.
This wedding was painful; it reminded Gillian what she almost had. But she faked a smile anyway. She wouldn't ruin this by having one of her breakdowns. Not today. Tonight maybe. Or not. Sometimes, all she could do was lie in bed and hope to fall asleep before she fell apart.
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He slid into the booth they had agreed on. He was joined by the other man momentarily.
"Long time, no see."
"Three years is a long time." He agreed. He hadn't seen him since the day he'd dropped him off in the middle of nowhere.
"What's your name now?"
"Can't tell you that, mate. You know that."
"Worth a shot. So how are you?"
"Fine. Today's her birthday."
"I know. Emily threw a party for Gill yesterday."
Ben took out his phone and pulled up his photos.
There she was. Smiling and laughing. Holding their daughter in her lap. Emily was in the background with a huge grin on her face.
Ben swiped right and picture of the little girl alone came up. She looked just like her mother. And he said as much.
"That may be, but Izzy has your accent. Speaks American English but with an Irish accent. It's adorable."
"Izzy?"
"Gill named her Isabella Rose Lightman."
"That's what we had decided. Before...everything. How is she?"
"Izzy is great. Gillian doesn't tell her much about you, just that you loved her."
"She's right."
"Gillian, on the other hand. No one is ever exactly sure. Most days she practically her old self with subtle differences, but then some days she drops Isabella off at school and goes home and doesn't move, doesn't eat, anything. She just sits there. Zoe went over one day and it nearly gave her a heart attack."
"Zoe?" He was confused. His ex-wife had never liked his partner.
"Losing you changed them both. They're practically best friends these days."
Ben was met with silence.
"Eli and Ria got married. She's pregnant. They left an empty seat in the front row for you at their wedding last year."
A sad smile graced his lips.
"What about Gill? She seeing anyone?"
"No. She refuses. Eli asked her about it once. She still wears the ring. She goes to your grave every day before she comes to the office. She still talks about you like you put stars in the sky. She still loves you. I'm fairly certain she always will."
"I love her too."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Emily walked across the stage and received the piece of paper she'd just wasted four years of her life on. Of course she had delayed going to college for a year, she had needed Gillian just as much as the older woman had needed her. But she'd finally applied gotten accepted into Berkeley. But even so, she still went home every other weekend. She still went home on holidays and birthdays. And she still went home on anniversaries.
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As soon as Emily had graduated, Gillian had offered her a job. The girl had followed in her father's footsteps, studying micro-expressions.
Emily had quickly accepted it. She felt that if she could continue her father's job, it would maybe feel like he was still with them.
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"Mommy, what happened to Daddy? Why isn't he here?" Isabella asked Gillian one day, catching her mother off guard.
"What?"
"Daddy. Why don't you ever talk about him?"
"Because it makes Mommy sad."
"Why?"
"Because I still love your daddy and he isn't here anymore."
"Is he ever coming back?"
"No, baby. He's not."
"Well, that's okay. I still love him anyway."
She ran to play with her toys and left Gillian to start crying in the kitchen. She missed him so much. She thought it would get easier to live without him as time went on. Instead, it only kept getting harder. She was thankful Emily wouldn't move out. Gillian had once tried to convince her that it was okay, she was almost twenty-three; she didn't need to stick around and take care of her. But Emily had refused, something for which Gillian was secretly grateful.
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Ben Reynolds walked into The Lightman Group and found Gillian in her office. It was the small one she'd always had. The only difference was the couch had been replaced with the old cream colored chairs.
He'd once asked her why she didn't just move into Lightman's office. He hadn't gotten an answer. But he'd looked inside later and found it exactly the way it was the last time he'd seen it. It had turned into some sort of shrine. Eli told him there were only three people ever allowed in. Gillian, Emily, and Isabella.
She was sitting on her laptop, working on whatever the current case was. She looked up as he walked in.
"We found Prosser." He told her, deciding not to beat around the bush.
Gillian froze.
"He turned up in California. The government is going to execute him quietly."
Gillian let out a shaky breath. It was finally over. The search for Prosser had been going on for five years. And they'd finally found him.
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Ben watched as he was led out and seated in the chair. He knew once the IV was started, Prosser would be dead in thirty seconds. Ben had been waiting for this for five years. The son of a bitch had destroyed the lives of the people he'd only ever felt comfortable with. The only people he'd ever really thought of as family. Prosser deserved a lot more than death.
Ben asked for permission to be in the room for the injection. His wish was granted. He only had one reason. To pass on a message.
The IV started and Ben counted down the seconds. Twenty five, twenty, fifteen, ten, five seconds.
At five, he leaned over and got in Prosser's face.
"The members of The Lightman Group, especially Gillian Foster, have asked me to tell you to rot in hell."
Zero. Dead. Ben walked out.
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He gathered up his things, not that there was much. He didn't have any pictures, books, nothing. There was practically no evidence he'd lived in this house for the last five years. Prosser was dead, he'd been executed yesterday. But he couldn't just go back to the home he'd left five years ago, as much as he wanted to. He hadn't seen a picture of Gillian, Emily, or Isabella since Ben had come that once two years ago. They probably didn't look anything the same. Of course, he didn't either. Last year, one of Prosser's men had nearly found him and he'd changed his appearance. He barely recognized himself with the longer, dyed hair, the beard and colored contacts.
But he couldn't go back. He was, after all, dead. They had all moved on long ago.
He took the one small suitcase filled with clothes and walked out the front door. He absolutely no idea where he was going.
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