Work Text:
Ellie ran her finger over his face, noting the small bruise under his eye. Her heart broke at the sight of his tears.
He sniffed his nose and tried to wipe his tear-wet cheeks with his sleeve, but she stopped him and pulled him close to her, stroking his back. His sobs grew a little louder, and he clutched his hands into her shirt.
"Baby, it's okay... Come on..."
"He started it first..." With a quiet sigh, he answered through his sobs. "I didn't mean to, but he pushed me and everyone started laughing. Did I do wrong?"
"Hush...hush...you stood up for yourself. Right? You're good for not letting yourself get hurt, but please, no more fighting, okay?"
"Ugh...okay."
She wiped his nose with her tissue and smiled at him, offering him ice cream and a cartoon, which should have calmed him down a bit.
"...My dad left because of me, didn't he?" Marco picked at the ice cream in his bowl with his spoon, not paying any attention at all to the action on the screen. Ellie squeezed her glass of juice, calming the trembling in her hands. It was the first time he'd mentioned his father in a long time: of course she'd shown him his photos and told about him, but Marco's interest was gone as soon as he'd moved to a new school. She didn't recognize him for the last six months: he frowned more often, kept quiet a lot, and despite his young age, only five years old, his father's character was more evident than ever.
"What makes you think that? Of course not, baby."
"Then why? Dave said it's because I'm wimpy..."
Ellie widened her eyes, either with anger at Dave-the son of rich parents, spoiled little brat or at herself: if she didn't chicken out, if only she didn't run away... If only.
"A-hem, it's not your fault, Marco."
"I hate him..." He scooped up a spoonful of ice cream and shoved it into his mouth: even though she had warned him many times and told him not to do so because of his sore throat.
Ellie set the glass on the table in front of her and tried to find the right words, but in this case, no words would help.
Later, she put her son to bed, kissed him goodnight, and staggered back to her room. Sleep did not come to her, her eyes were stinging with tears, her throat was sore from a huge lump she could not swallow. Her son's words turned everything inside her. Marco hated his father. Just like Nick hated his own. But unlike Miguel, Nick had no idea his son existed and was not worthy of hatred in his direction. Ellie pressed herself into the pillow, muffling her sobs, her shoulders shaking more by the minute. She curled up into a ball, wrapping herself in the blanket, remembering their night before she left. Ellie wiped away her tears, an eerie, hysterical laugh bursting out of her as she imagined what would happen to Nick if they showed up in his life now. She was pretty sure, he was already seeing someone: maybe even more than one woman, or worse, he was already married and had a family of his own. She threw back the blanket, unable to bear the stinging of dried tears on her skin. Splashing cold water in her face, she stared into the mirror, ready to sob again. Clenching her lower lip hard with her teeth, nearly to the blood, she suppressed the urge within her.
His social media pages hadn't been updated in a long time. The last post was on September 30, her birthday, six years ago, a week before her transfer. With trembling fingers, she tried to write him a message, but erased it as soon as she managed to type a word.
"Hi..." A sudden incoming message popped up and made her jump on the spot. She barely held the phone in her hands. Squeezing her eyes shut, shaking her head in case she was dreaming, she reread the simple, unobligatory 'hi' once more. Gotta answer something - she repeated to herself, gathering her thoughts, not knowing what to write. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and while she thought, the three dots blinked again: Nick was typing a new message.
Panic gripped her, the urge to throw the phone away growing stronger. But remembering her son's words, she pulled herself together and quickly sent her greeting without waiting for a new message. The blinking stopped for a minute, and Ellie held her breath. It was as if they were both waiting to see who would text next.
"How's New Orleans?" His simple question - Ellie slid along the bathroom wall to the mat by the door.
"Big easy". She'd heard that expression quite often among the locals, and it was partly true until a new investigation came down on their team.
Ellie hummed, imagining the look on his face at the sight of her message. The nightlife here was far more eventful than in DC. The idea that he would like it here thrilled her. She brushed that feeling aside, remembering the original reason for contacting him.
"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"
"Um, no."
"You mean you're sitting at home on a Friday night? In a town where the fun stuff starts after midnight?"
"All right, well you got me. So what's Torres doing at this late hour?"
She was burning with curiosity, but at the same time, she was afraid to know the answer: what if he wrote about his family and his inability to hang out like before.
The sound of the incoming message pulled her out of her musings, but she avoided looking at the phone screen, and counted the tiles on the floor - yes Ellie, a very fascinating thing to do. Pushing aside undue jealousy, she read the message and exhaled, cursing to herself - Daaamn...
"I miss you. I miss you, El. I don't know how you are, who you're with, but I miss you, madly. I hate myself for it. I hate that I couldn't stop you. I hate that I acted like a jerk. I'm sorry, I can't get over you. No matter how hard I try, I can't. If you only knew how many times I've stopped halfway to you."
Before she could write back, or even think of the right words to his confession, a new message popped up on her screen.
"I'm sorry... You have your own life, and I have no right to interfere in it. Don't mind me. I think I've drunk a little too much..."
Ellie barely had time to finish reading and, afraid to change her mind, pressed the call button under his number.
The beeps on the phone echoed in the silence of the bathroom, she could hear her heartbeat, and she put her palm to her chest, exhaling slowly. Hearing his hoarse hello, her heart froze for a second. For the second time that night, she felt like she was in a dream.
"Hey? Ellie? Are you here?"
"Uh... um... yeah. Nick. Shit, ugh, I'm sorry. I'm...I'm so glad to hear you."
"Hmm. Really?" She could tell from his voice that he was now smiling his teasing smile and clearly squinting his eyes.
"Mm-hmm. How are you?"
"Still alive. Whew... And how are you doing?"
"Ahem, not bad, I guess..."
Silence hung on the line, and both listened to each other's breathing.
"Sure I'm not interrupting you? Your boyfriend-husband won't mind nightly calls from... old friends?"
"... Nick...no, that's okay. And-uh your girlfriend-wife? You won't get in trouble?"
"Huh, no. Definitely not. And you think I'm married?"
"I don't know, Nick. So many years..."
"Um...yeah. So many years. Why? Why did this happen to us?"
"I don't know...I don't think we were ready, Nick."
"Not ready? Ellie, you're driving me crazy. I'm sorry, I'm going to get a little drunk Nick talking in me now...but I loved you. And I love you now. All those dates we had... I thought we could make it work... I was ready. I was ready, Ellie!" Nick spoke ramblingly, barely finishing his sentences, as if his thoughts were scattered, and it seemed it wasn't just the alcohol.
"Do you love me? Nick...I thought..."
"God...did you really think I took advantage of you before you left?"
"I don't know, Nick...no."
"No... Then what the hell?!"
"What the hell what?"
"I don't know...you called me."
"You texted me..."
"I couldn't look at those blinking dots that said typing a message..."
"It's complicated...I don't know where to start." Judging by the tinkling sound of glass - he pushed the empty bottles away from him.
"From the beginning?" - Nick exhaled.
"From the beginning... That night...after my birthday...do you remember it?"
"Phew, Ellie, I can't forget. And how we had to run to work in the morning without being able to talk normally..."
"That's not what I mean...anyway...we weren't that careful."
There was the sound of shattering glass, Nick's heavy sigh, his shuffling footsteps. Ellie waited for him to say something, her eyes darkening, the nausea returning to her throat.
"You... you didn't... you didn't do it, did you?"
"... Nick...I couldn't. I'm sorry...I shouldn't have called... It's not your problem."
"Ellie! Stop it. How old is she? He? Wait...five? Why are you only telling me this now? Were you even going to tell me? Does he know about me? Please tell me he knows!"
"Uhh, of course he knows about you... And...I called...I called because he said something today...I don't want him to think that, Nick. I don't want him to." Ellie burst into sobs again, her son's words still echoing in her head, and the anger with which he said them, despite his age.
"Does he hate me? Is that what are you trying to say?"
"How do you... How do you know?"
"Ellie...you know very well...about me and my father."
"I'm sorry, Nick. I'm really sorry. I don't want him to hate you. You don't deserve that. It's only my fault."
"Shh...I'll...I'll be there. Tomorrow. It's all my fault."
"Nick..."
"Don't talk me out of it, Ellie. I'm not my father. I'm not abandoning my son. We'll work it out..."
Ellie sobbed and nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She found the strength to squeeze out just two words: "I love you" - and the tones filled the room again, echoing softly in the bathroom.
She got up from the floor, having sat on it for hours. Ignoring the stiffness in her muscles, she walked to her son's room. He was asleep, just like his father: on his back, with the blanket on the floor, his arms slightly over his head. Ellie almost tiptoed over to his bed, lifted the blanket; tucking away a long, wavy strand of hair, she kissed his forehead. "Daddy loves you, Marco...he'll be here soon..."
He smiled in his sleep, turned on his side and opened his eyes: "Mommy?"
"Sleep, baby, it's okay... "
"Is Daddy really coming?"
Ellie nodded, and again the lump in her throat prevented her from speaking. She stroked his hair, humming the song he loved to fall asleep to when he was a newborn.
"What if he doesn't love me? What if Dave is right?" Marco barely kept his eyes open, but fought sleep, wanting to know more about his father.
"He already loves you, Marco...and your Dave is just..."
"Jerk..." muttered Marco, yawning. Ellie smiled-she usually didn't let him say bad words, but she couldn't think of a more accurate definition at this moment.
"Good night, little man..."
"Good night, Mommy...and I won't say any more bad words..."
Marco closed his eyes and from his deep breathing Ellie realized that he had already fallen into a sound sleep.
Nick arrived the next day. More worried than he'd ever been. He hadn't slept, and he was clearly on caffeine.
Ellie held the door open, and clutched at the doorway with her hand, afraid to let him in. It was as if they were seeing each other for the first time, and at the same time, as if they had only parted yesterday.
Marco ducked in front of her and rushed over to his father, wrapping his little arms around him. Nick froze in place, looking down at him, his mini version. The bag rattled and landed beside him. With trembling hands, he touched his hair. A huge wave swept through his body, washing away all the fatigue and anger, filling him with something new. The realization that he was a father swept over him. Tears rolled down his cheeks in large hailstones.
The boy looked up at him, his eyes so familiar: the same look he saw every day when he looked in the mirror.
Marco loosened his grip and took a step back, unable to understand why his father never said a word, as if he wasn't happy to see him.He frowned and wanted to run into the house, but Nick picked him up and pressed him against his chest.
"I'm here, baby. I'm right here with you. I'm with you. Forever..." Marco looked at him intently and tilted his head to the side, as if he didn't immediately believe him. Nick smiled at him and ran his finger across his little nose while repeating his promise-forever...
Marco smiled back and put his arms around his neck again, whispering in his ear what he had dreamed of saying for years: "Daddy..."
Ellie pressed her lips together looking at them and on stiff legs walked closer to them. Nick put his other arm around her, kissing her cheek. "I'm home..."