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Lara MacTavish has seen her boy go through heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak. She knows about his self-esteem issues, and how they prevented him from truly giving all of himself to his partner. She knows that sometimes he thinks he isn’t enough or is just too much, even though she has reassured him countless times that he’s never been anything but perfect in her eyes. She loves him unconditionally, like every mother should for their child.
John was always such a bright boy in school. Smart, too; he skipped a grade and graduated a year early-
(she also knows he tried to join the army too early)
(just like his father)
-and she was so proud of him. He made friends with everyone he could, forever a bubbly, happy presence in everyone’s eyes. But even the stars that shine the most have people that want to dim them.
She noticed the first signs in early middle school. He stopped interacting with his peers as much and started spending more time in front of a screen. He withdrew, he was quieter, and nothing she did, no amount of encouragement seemed to bring him back out of his shell. She was forced to watch, helpless. She asked, one day, if something had happened. She was greeted with a snappy remark, harsh and venomous.
“I’m fine, ma, just leave it alone.”
It broke her heart to hear him shut her out too. She thought she’d been supportive, gave him a space filled with trust and the ability to open up to her, but she guesses it just wasn’t enough. She had made sure to let him know at every turn that he could trust her, that she respected his boundaries as soon as he was old enough to know how to set them. It hurt to think that he didn’t trust her with something that seemed to bother him so much.
She’ll wait, though. When (if ever) the day comes that he feels ready to tell her, she will listen with open ears, open mind, and an open heart. She won’t be the mother who pushed her son away over forcing him to share a secret he didn’t feel comfortable exposing.
It paid off, because one day in late high school, he came to her on his own and told her the one secret he’d kept to himself for all those years; like finally drawing back the curtain on his soul, to let her peek inside.
“I’m gay, ma.”
And it made her shatter a bit, almost lost to the notion that her son didn’t think she’d accept him exactly as he is. Because there was no changing her boy.
She wouldn’t want to anyway.
She told him as much, that she was ecstatic that he opened up to her, trusted her with this, even if it had taken him so long to gather the courage to do so. He cried in her arms for hours that night, overwhelmed by the relief and showered in her endless love. She felt that pride again, that she made her boy feel safe enough to communicate such intimate information.
Once he told her the big secret, he let another slip out. He’d waited for so very long to tell her because he thought she’d hate him, think him an abomination that went against God’s will. She sharply reassured him that no, she did not hate him, never would and never could hate him. God created all his children to be precisely who they are and nothing would change that. And if God wouldn’t accept him simply for his taste in partners, then it was no god she would be willing to follow.
It was as if someone had cranked a faucet on full blast after that. He told her about all the time since he started to suspect, about every relationship that failed or went wrong, every clandestine encounter he had to try and figure out for certain if he actually was gay. Every low moment that nearly took him from her for good, all because he was told from so many sides that he was an unnatural thing; he thought there was no way she’d still love him after his confession. He heart stutters with that information, horrified, and vows to never ever let him feel like that again.
Following that revelation, John starts telling her about everything that happens in his life. Every time he gets a new boyfriend, she is usually the first one to know. When the breakups happen, she is there - if not in person then in spirit over the phone - to hold his pieces together. When he joins the military, he makes sure to call every week and vent or gush about whatever topic has his fancy that week. She always listens-
(-and always will-)
-so when the tone of his words changes when he joins his new task force, she notices immediately. He still tells her just as much as before, but it feels different somehow, just a bit off. He talks more about his work and less about his co-workers. At first, she thinks it’s because he doesn’t like them, but as time goes on and little tidbits slipped out, the dots connected.
Her John is in love, and it is with more than one person.
It’s no wonder, then, why he’s so scared to tell her any of this. Being gay is one thing, but being polyamorous is a much, much different thing. It’s so often misconstrued as cheating or impossible to achieve-
(“you’ll always love one more than the other” “you’re just making it up for attention” “it’s because you can’t get it from them right?”)
(“does your partner know you’re cheating on them, then?”)
She makes sure, after every call, just before they say goodbye, to remind him, “You can tell me anything, lad.”
“I know, ma,” is always his response, before saying goodnight and hanging up.
It took him ages to open up again. She could still feel from the disparity in the way he talked, how he gushed - like he was consciously trying to censor himself - that the relationships he had were evolving. It was only when he nearly let something inappropriate slip about an experience with one of them that he seemed to realize that it was time. He went silent for several moments, and she let him, knowing what was coming.
“Ma, I’ve got- I’ve got something I need to tell you.”
“What is it, John?” She’s patient. This is on his terms, she is merely there to support him.
“I’m in love, ma. With all three of my task force mates.”
And she accepts him, just like that. Nothing could ever make her hate her son. Nothing could ever take her love away from him. Her love will unceasingly be unconditional. She will never ask anything of him that he does not wish to give, because she is first and lifelong support. She will never do anything to make him think that he would not have her absolute confidence, loyalty, and protection.
She should’ve known his heart would be too big for one person, so maybe three would be able to hold it better.
He cries over the phone that night, just like the first time, and Lara would give anything and everything to be next to him, holding him. For now, she has to content herself with comforting him from hundreds of kilometers away, through a tinny speaker, while she listens powerlessly to his heaving, shuddering sobs. Her boy, so relieved that it’s a visceral feeling.
Once he calms down, she leaves him to go to bed with two last requests. Her first is that she wants to meet them, to see the men her son is so enamored with. The people who have captured his heart so thoroughly that he’ll never get it back in one piece.
(if they ever give it back at all-)
“I’ll see what I can do, ma,” he tells her. “I have to talk to Price about it.” One of the men, his far superior. A kind but stern man, from what John tells her of him.
Her boy just had to go for the difficult ones, didn’t he?
Her second request is also simple. “Find one of them, lad. Have them give you a hug for me.”
“Ma, it’s late-”
“And if they love you at all, they’ll understand. Please don’t go to bed alone like this.”
She lets him hold the lull of the conversation in his hands, contemplating. When he eventually speaks, he says, “Thanks, ma. I love you. I really am lucky to have you.”
“You’re damn right about that.”
It takes a while to get a pass to stay temporarily on base, crossing through red tape and jumping through hoops. Price, it turns out, holds a lot more sway than she thought. John also tells her that their task force isn’t technically fully legal in the first place. She’s a little surprised at that, but it’s her baby, so she knows he’s doing it for good. Even if she knows he’s got more blood on his hands than most serial killers.
She loves him all the same.
She’ll have a full-time required escort for the entirety of her stay on base, just due to the nature of its functions and contents, but it’s more than worth it to her. Anything to see her son again.
When she arrives, her boy greets her with a massive hug, picking her up by the waist despite her plump weight and swinging her around in circles like some old romance movie. “Ma-” he chokes out, and she can practically hear the tears gathering again. It’s been a few years since they’ve seen each other, and it feels like it’s been ages.
“How has my sweet lad been doing?” she asks once he sets her back down, attention solely focused on him for the moment. She holds his face in her outstretched hands, heart fluttering when he leans into one of her palms and closes his eyes.
“I’m doing good, ma. So, so good,” he answers; she can feel his sincerity and it makes her heart soar.
Then she looks past him and sees three other men standing awkwardly off to the side. One has a bucket hat, mutton chops, and a strict posture; Captain John Price, obviously. The second one is dark-skinned and so handsome, and by far looks the most sheepish - Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, then. The third and last is tall, hulking, and adorned with a skull-faced balaclava; the famous Ghost. Simon Riley.
(she remembers john saying he had to ask permission to tell her anything about the man; coming back elated with his blessing)
“These are your boys, John?”
“Aye, ma,” he replies, and the look on his face speaks volumes. He’s so besotted that he’s sappy with it. His eyes are soft as he looks at them, and she thinks, ‘oh if these men ever break his heart, he’ll never survive.’
And by their returning stares, she could probably safely say the same about the others.
“Well don’t just stand there, introduce me!” she exclaims, slapping his shoulder lightly. He grins and leads her over to them, and the meeting commences. Price is a charmer, and he’s not ashamed to lay on the compliments. If he weren’t gone for her son, she might have shown interest. Gaz is sweet enough to rot teeth; Lara can see why John likes him. They’re basically twins, personality-wise. Ghost is- something different. Intimidating yet soft; but he gazes at John like the man hung the moon. She originally thought he’d be the biggest problem, but clearly she is wrong.
Her boy also lets them call him Johnny, and if that’s not a sign of clear, unwavering trust, she doesn’t know what is.
They take her out to dinner and drinks at a bar near the base. John must have told them she could hold her own, because they’re not shy about handing her drinks. She’s suitably intoxicated along with the rest of them; she watches wordlessly while the four of them interact.
It’s honestly breathtaking. They all dote on John (and each other) like he’s something precious. Price keeps a sturdy hand on John’s thigh the whole night. Ghost has a palm resting against the small of John’s back, and she sees her son melt into both points of contact every time he returns to them from the bar. Gaz keeps casting doe-eyed glances at him from across the table, and it’s a miracle that they haven't been kicked out of the establishment for how much disgustingly sweet PDA they’re exhibiting.
The display reassures her, in the way that they’re already so unconsciously accommodating John’s need for touch. The only one not constantly glued to John is Gaz, but it’s only because there’s a table separating them. Her eyes water with the sight of them showing her son such beautiful, gentle love.
When it comes time for them to leave, they do so in a slightly wobbly manner, just a bit past tipsy. Outside the guest barracks, she stops them and requests that John give her a few moments alone with the others before they all retire to the captain’s their bed. He obliges, stumbling off unsteadily to watch them from a far-off doorway. She smiles at his over-protectiveness.
Facing the three men, she straightens up to her full height and schools her expression. She’s still several inches shorter than the shortest of them, but it makes them hold their focus on her, at least.
“I’m not going to give you the shovel talk, boys. Not when I can already see how much you all love each other.” She looks each of them in the eyes. “I just want to know that you know how to take care of him.”
They stare at her somewhat confused, before Ghost speaks up hesitantly. “With all due respect, ma’am, we’ve been taking care of each other for a while now.”
Gaz nods and adds, “It’s rough sometimes, but we’re figuring it out.”
Lara smiles at Ghost’s candor and Gaz’s earnesty, but she still asks them, “Would you mind if I gave you some pointers anyway? He’s my only child and I want to make sure he’s properly cared for and loved.”
Even though they’d been paying attention before, their concentration sharpens at her request. They all three look hungry for whatever knowledge she’ll give them; it makes her tear up a little. Her son really did find the gold mine here with these men.
It takes a good half an hour for her to finish her piece. At some point during, her son calls out to ask if they’re done yet, but she reprimands him with a short, “No! Be patient!” She can see his pout from where she is, and the adoring, amused looks of the others settle her even more. The soldiers before her look beyond grateful for her insight and advice.
“One last thing, boys,” she finishes. “Just let him be. Sometimes it takes a while for him to share and open up, so just let him have that space if he needs it.” She looks down. “It took him years to come out to me, and months to tell me about you all. Sometimes he just needs to know you’re there.
“He’ll love you if you love him like that.”
Their expressions tell her everything she needs to know. They’re ready for whatever John might have to throw at them, for each and every challenge he presents. They’re ready to be there for him even when he doesn’t want to tell them everything. Even if he never tells them anything. It’s so honestly endearing that it makes her cry right there.
She’s just happy that her boy found his people to come back to.