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On their first night together, Tasha felt a feeling she had only felt once before in her life, years before, And suddenly, she felt herself back in that moment.
On the first night Tasha held Leo she had felt a heartache like one she had never known. Not because she was hurt that she would be going through the journey alone, she had already spent a lot of time trying to come to terms with that. She ached because she knew she would never be able to live in that moment forever. That no matter what that baby, her baby, could not stay safe in her arms for the rest of time. This pull in her caused her to hold him closer. When the doctors took him from her arms it was a miracle she didn't sob then and there. She wondered how mothers did it, came to terms with the small griefs that nobody could ever understand.
And on the first night she met them, she felt that same pull, that same heartache. She couldn't explain it, why she felt drawn to three random children wandering her home but she knew at that moment that she was taking on one of the hardest jobs anyone could, letting them into her heart when she knew she would only get hurt in the end. When Donald tried to send them away it was a horrible kind of heartbreak. Like someone held her heart in their hand and squeezed until it was nothing but dust. Maybe it would’ve been easier if it was nothing but dust. She wondered if fathers felt those same emotions. How could he be so willing to just send them away? To never see them again?
On their second night together, she held them. She laughed at Bree's quip about being crushed before pulling away. She wished desperately that if she couldn't live in moments like those forever that the universe would have the grace to give her more of them while it could.
She didn't know about their first mission but when she saw Leo on that train every fear she had ever known rushed to the front of her mind. She tried to ground him because maybe, just maybe, if she can keep him inside, where she can see him, she can keep him safe. She wished she could ground the others then, knowing they were just following orders. Wished that she could protect them in that same way.
As much as they worried her, they made her so incredibly proud every single day. Not just with the missions, because as selfless as her kids were, she wished they didn't have to face danger every single day. No, they made her proud with almost everything they did. She always put Chase's report card on the fridge next to Leo's because she knew how important grades were to him and just how smart her kids were.
She put Adam's up there the first time he brought home a B. An 81% in history. He was so excited to have finally done well in something educational and ran through the door, happily shoving it in Tasha's hands. When she started crying he immediately started apologizing, worried that he'd done something wrong, maybe he hadn't done as well as he'd thought. Tasha just wrapped her arms around him. "I am so, so proud of you."
When they brought home the next semester's report cards she would collect them in a small shoebox she kept in her closet. She never did tell anyone about the box, Donald just assumed she had a pair of shoes she was saving to wear for a special occasion.
Bree never seemed interested in having hers up there so instead Tasha made the picture of them she had taken made into a magnet so that it would always be up there to help hold everything together. When Bree brought home her first boyfriend Tasha had to resist the urge not to give him the most scorching shovel-talk any woman has ever given. Instead, she smiled and took a picture of them to add to her shoebox and tried not to be upset at how fast the world seems to turn.
When Adam made the cheer team she hugged Bree and told her she'd show them next year and took pictures of Adam in his uniform. She felt sad for Bree but knew she'd have a billion more chances to show the world how incredible she was. She had Adam show her the routines they'd been practicing and smiled brightly the whole time, even when he stumbled.
She didn't quite understand chess so the first time she went to watch a match for the chess team she was entirely confused but cheered as loud as she could when Donald, who seemed more interested in his phone, explained that Chase had won. She ran up and hugged him and told him to bite his medal for the picture, which he raised his eyebrow at but did anyways with a smirk.
She sat and listened as Leo rambled on about each week's newest invention, knowing she would never understand what he was talking about but smiled at his enthusiasm. He would tell her his inventions would change the world one day and she would believe him. She just wished that maybe, if just for a minute that she wouldn't have to let him grow up. That she wouldn't have to share him with the world.
One of her favorite pictures she had taken over the years was one of Chase and Leo when they had won the Robot-Throwdown grinning widely with their trophy held up above their heads. They looked ecstatic and she was so proud her boys got to show just how smart they were. In a second picture, Donald was at their side with a slightly annoyed smile as the boys look nervously at him. That one always makes her smile.
When Chase and Bree got their first jobs she tried to convince them to send her pictures of them and the rest of the staff but when they refused, claiming that was "embarrassing", she settled for the quick picture she could snap of them in uniform rolling their eyes on the way out the door.
When Leo got hurt and the rest of her kids disappeared on the same day it felt more like a heart attack. Like her world was crashing in on her. The days without them weren't supposed to be that soon. It wasn't fair that her kids were gone because the world didn't understand just how special they were. When the curtain opened and Leo was gone too it was agonizing. She had no idea where her kids were or if they were alright. They could've been dead for all she knew. God, they could've been dead.
She cried a lot that day.
Finding out Douglas had given another one of her babies bionics hurt but she was just so glad he was alright that she wasn't too hung up on the matter. All of her kids were home and safe, that's all that mattered at that moment. They could stay there together forever for all that she cared.
Finally, maybe they could have a chance at a little more time. But in one of life’s simple tragedies, time stops for no one. The one thing you can always count on is time ticking by, even when you desperately wish it wouldn’t. If the universe had the ability to spare just a moment for anyone who asked for one it would never go on. Still, all she wished for in that minute was a moment more.
Of course, couldn't be that simple, not for her. It was always getting interrupted by villain after villain. Stealing the precious moments they were supposed to have. And finally, just when the battles seemed to be over, the worst of the villains destroyed, Donald told her they were leaving. They were going to live on some island far away from the little home they had created together.
She thought she was supposed to have more time, where did it all go? It never stopped slipping by, she tried to catch it. Every little moment. She did everything she could to freeze it and keep the memory alive. But she failed every time.
On their last night together they watched a movie on the couch. She smiled sadly but she doesn't think they realized she was watching them more than she was the movie. They laughed at a joke the movie had told and she just held them closer. It's moments like these that Tasha, despite everything, wishes she had bionics or superpowers or whatever would allow her just a little more time. But time goes on she supposes. That's the understanding mothers must come to. She stood up saying she was going to get more popcorn but instead walked behind the couch and took one more picture of them for her shoebox.
She went to put it in the box that night, frowning because the lid would no longer fit over the items that were stacked. She pulled the box onto the floor and sat down in front of it, carefully sorting through it. Two-pairs of pom-poms, two name tags, a football jersey courtesy of Spike (she felt he had just as much a place in it as the others), tickets to school dances, a cowboy hat, a playbill that Adam had signed for her, several report cards, and hundreds of photos amongst various other items filled it.
She did something that only her kids seemed capable of making her do. She cried.
She kept crying even when Donald sat down beside her and held her.
The next day she put on a brave face and waved goodbye to them. She once again was left wondering how mothers do it all the time. She gained a newfound respect for her own mom. She was starting to understand why she insisted on being around as much as she did. But eventually, mothers have to accept that they cannot hold on forever.
And even if she couldn't hold on forever maybe the moments they got together were gift enough. That the universe could give something so precious and pure amazed her. Now, her gift in return is letting the universe see just how great her kids are.
And maybe a mother’s job is to conquer these small griefs so the rest of the world doesn’t have to waste their lives mourning time that is long gone.