Chapter 147: Comforting Words
"How are you doing?" Yesterday had been Jimmy's
first day back, and also the last day of a hot case, so beyond a quick visit,
Tim hadn't had time to get down to Autopsy.
Today they're filling out paperwork, and no one is going to
say anything if he and Jimmy take an extra-long lunch. So they did.
Jimmy shrugged a little, his voice is pretty flat. "Not
so bad. Everyone here has lost someone and knows what this feels like, sort of,
at least. Tony's made some dumb jokes, but that's it, they're dumb jokes,
designed to try and make me laugh. Ziva's brought food for us every day since
you and Abby left. But 'well-meaning' assholes out there in the rest of the
world keep saying horrible things to us.
"Why would you say, 'You'll have other children'? Yeah,
it's true. We will, and if the genetic testing says we shouldn't try naturally,
we'll adopt more kids, but why would you say that?" Flat is very rapidly
being replaced by anger steeped in stupefaction. "If I told you my best
friend died, you wouldn't say to me, 'You'll have other best friends.'"
Jimmy stabbed the one of the pieces of chicken in his salad over and over with
his fork. "One of the ladies at church said, 'Well, at least Molly's
healthy.' You wouldn't tell someone who's mom just died, 'Well, at least your
dad is healthy.'
"One of them said to us, 'You've got to trust that God
knows what He's doing, and this is for the best.'" He shook his head,
looking so tired. "No, I don't have to trust in that. I don't have to
trust in anything. Trusting in a God who builds your hopes up and crushes them
just for kicks is really damn low on my to-do list right now, thank you."
The stupefaction in his voice vanished, replaced by all anger.
"I almost hit the woman who said it'd make us stronger. Would have done it
if she had been a guy. I was perfectly fine being a cream puff, married to a
cream puff, raising a little cream puff, dreaming about a new little cream
puff, and I would have very happily lived my entire life never dealing with
anything harder than being annoyed with Ed. The idea that it'll make me tougher
isn't any comfort." He closed his eyes for a second, made himself calm
down, and then looked at Tim again, who was pretty much just sitting there,
across the booth from him, hoping to be useful by giving Jimmy a shot to say
whatever he wanted or needed to.
"You know why they tell you not to tell anyone you're
pregnant at first?"
Tim shook his head. Sure, he's familiar with the whole
so-you-won't-have-to-tell-everyone-if-you-miscarry thing, but he's also sure
that's not where Jimmy is going with this.
"It's so the rest of the world doesn't have to deal
with your grief. If you don't tell anyone, then when you lose a baby you're just
sad on your own, and if someone asks, you wave it away, force a grin on your
face, and pretend to be all right. Every single one of those thoughtless
'comforting' words has been about only one thing only, shutting us down.
'You'll have other babies, so don't make me have to deal with you in mourning.' 'It's God's will, so stop making me uncomfortable by being sad.'"
"I'm so sorry."
"I know." Jimmy shook his head. "How hard was
that? I'm sorry. I wish this didn't happen to you. I know it hurts, and it's not
going to be better anytime soon, but I hope you heal quickly. And then shut the
fuck up! How hard is that?" He wiped a tear away.
Tim shrugged. I'm sorry and then shut-the-fuck-up
has always been his way of dealing with grieving people. "How's Breena doing
with it?"
"Angry, frustrated, sad… We both are… At least I can go
to work and deal with the fact that what I do puts killers away. She's just
surrounded by dead people."
"She went back to work?"
"For about an hour. Then one of the suppliers asked how
the pregnancy was going, so she told him, and he said something about us having
other babies, and Ed blew up at him. Apparently ripped him a new asshole,
twice." Ed had been at their place when he got home, and seemed to really
enjoy giving Jimmy the full play by play on what exactly he had said to that
idiot. And for the first time ever, Jimmy completely approved of something Ed
had done. "How bad at tact are you when Ed's schooling you in how to
behave? Then she went home and spent the rest of the day snuggling with Molly.
The only good thing about working for Ed is that he'll let her take as long off
as she likes, and if she never wants to see a dead body again, he'll support
her in that, too." There are a lot of things that are true about Ed
Slater, that he doesn't like Jimmy, has no filter between his mouth and his
brain, and values money and the security it buys too highly are all on the
list. Him being a bad dad isn't.
"Tim. I really appreciated what you did for us, and for
me."
"Jimmy, you're living my worst fear. Whatever you and
Breena need, I'm here for."
"Thanks." Jimmy sat there, ate the piece of
chicken he'd been mauling with his fork, and thought for a minute.
"You
guys had the nuchal fold testing, right?"
"Yeah, Wednesday."
"And…"
Tim hadn't been sure how to handle this. My baby's healthy
and yours just died is way out of his depth, so he figured this would be
another good shut-the-fuck-up topic, so he hadn't mentioned it. But if Jimmy's
going to out and out ask, he's not going to lie about it. "And it came up
clear. Everything's good, as best we can tell."
"I'm really happy for you." Jimmy looks like he's
on the verge of crying again. "Do you have new ultrasound pics?"
"Yeah, four of them. I wasn't sure…"
"I'd like to see them."
"Okay." Tim pulls them up on his phone. Kelly's
still too little to tell if she's a boy or a girl, but she's looking a whole
lot more like a baby and less like a shrimp.
Jimmy just stared at the first shot, his finger tracing
along the curve of Kelly's spine.
"You sure you want to see this?"
"Yeah." Jimmy closes his eyes, and then opens them
again, looking at Tim. "It hurts, but… I'm still really glad for you guys.
And I still can't wait to meet your little girl. And I don't want you feeling
like you can't be happy around me. I need all the happy I can get these days.
Breena does, too."
"Okay." So he points out toe buds and finger buds,
and how she's about the size of a golf ball, all stuff Jimmy knows, but it's
still a big deal for Tim. He shows Jimmy the shot of the two tiny feet, and
Jimmy smiled a little at them.
And then he started crying.
Tim put his phone back into his pocket and switched seats,
sitting next to Jimmy and rubbing his back.
"It's just so fucking unfair!" Jimmy bites out,
staring at the ceiling.
"I know."
"And I'm so angry," he won't look at Tim as he
says this, because he's having an easier time keeping himself under some
semblance of control by staring at the seat across from him. "And there's
nothing, no one to be angry at. There's nothing to hit, and screaming at fate
is useless."
Anything you need. There's nothing to hit. Tim thinks
about that for a second before saying, "I'll fight you if you think it
would help."
That got Jimmy to turn and look at Tim, surprised him enough
it broke some of the sorrow. "Tim?"
Tim shrugs at Jimmy. He doesn't much like fighting, but if
it might help, he's game. "There's a boxing ring in the gym. Having
something solid to fight might help."
"I don't want to beat the shit out of you."
"I'm not volunteering to be a punching bag; you'd get
bored with that too soon. A real fight would hold your attention and give you a
shot to work out a lot of the fight or flight chemicals in your system. Won't
help with sad, might help with angry. Ziva'd be game, too, if you wanted to go
up against someone who's actually good at hand to hand."
Jimmy thought about that for a moment. "That's part of
why she started training again when her father was killed."
"Maybe. Needing to be in good shape for what came after
was a lot of it, too. We're made to run, physically run, away from the things
that scare us, or turn around and try to kill them. You can't run from this,
and you can't fight it, but you can fight me or Ziva or Tony, or hell, I'll run
with you if you like. It certainly can't make things worse, and it might make
you feel a little better."
Jimmy thought about it. "What are you doing after
work?"
"Dinner with Abby, eventually. Tony and Ziva were going
to do Shabbat, but they didn't think the case would get wrapped in time, so
that's not on for tonight. You want to do something?"
"Yeah."
"Run or fight?"
"Fight."
"Okay."
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