formerlysiryn | [Dated October 21st]

Entry tags:

in-game

[Dated October 21st]

Terry doesn't know exactly how or why it happens, just that it does. One night she's dozing in her new apartment with Sean fast asleep on the bed beside her, a tiny ball of warmth along her side. (The place was still bare, and with every news report that showed the breach getting worse, Terry realized she'd miss her friends on the other side deeply -- but she had Sean. As much as it hurt, she couldn't imagine making any other choice, and she knew they'd understand.)

The next moment, she's waking to Sean's cries and when she stumbles out of bed in the dark and scoops him up, nothing is right. The nightlight is gone, her bedside lamp is no longer where it should be, and when she finally stumbles to a wall and flips a light switch, the room is not one she's expected.

"What the..."

Sean doesn't give her much more time to stare at her bedroom in the Darrow School for the Gifted. His piercing cries break up the sleepy, confused fog she's in, and Terry is grateful to see that if they've somehow made it back to Darrow, at least all his baby items have arrived with them. There's no apartment kitchen to find baby formula in, but the diaper bag with extra formula is sitting on his bassinet and Terry grabs it on her way out to the school's kitchen. If his food hasn't come along with them, at least she has something.

The first thing she does when she reaches the kitchen is check the fridge for the pre-made bottles she'd put away hours earlier, and Terry's only slightly surprised to find the two sitting in the fridge as though they belong there. They probably do, now, though that's a conversation she'll have to have with Raven when the sun is up and she's had a bit more sleep.

Raven. Bloody hell, if Terry is properly back, she'll be glad to see her friend again. She'll be glad to see all her friends again, and though it's very late (or very early, she can't tell yet) Terry plans on sending out some texts to let them know she is back and have them meet Sean.

But that's for daylight. For now, she's got a warm bottle of formula and a baby to feed.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Raven hasn't been sleeping, and she makes no effort to manipulate her appearance into suggesting otherwise. Between "Mystique" and Theresa's decision to stay with Sean in the alternate version of Darrow, her head and heart are working overtime and any attempt at rest ends with tossing and turning.

So she's reading a book to try to keep her mind off of things (unsuccessfully, unsurprisingly) when she hears a cry. A cry she's heard before, the cry of a child. Theresa's child.

They must have come back.

Tying the sash of her dressing gown she races out of her room and takes a moment to figure out where the noise is coming from before she heads that way immediately. She's stopped in her tracks when she sees Theresa in the kitchen, and the lump in her throat isn't enough to hold back her own cry. "You're back," she says, hot tears forming in her eyes.

Even with the size of the mansion, Terry shouldn't be surprised at Raven's appearance-- with the place so big, it only made sense that they lived close to one another and the kitchen. They'd made the mansion familiar, and even though it had really only been the two of them living there and Luke stopping by regularly, it's become a real home.

One that's gaining a new occupant, if she truly is back.

"I guess so," Terry says with a shaky breath, swallowing back her own tears. She's grateful to see Raven again, to see that their friendship has meant as much to Raven as it has to Terry. "We were asleep in the apartment one moment, and now..."

Terry looks around the familiar kitchen, surprised to see her favorite mug still sitting in the drying rack next to the sink. "Now we're home."

"I didn't think you were coming back," Raven says. Most people who have disappeared from Darrow haven't come back, but they also haven't made the decision to leave. An understandable decision, in Raven's eyes, but still one that hadn't sunk in. The school had been empty enough with just the two of them, she hadn't known what to do when it was just herself.

She clears her throat, blinking back tears. "Is he okay?"

"I didn't either," Terry admits. She hadn't even had time to get used to the idea beyond brief moments of growing loneliness whenever Sean was asleep and everything fell quiet.

"He seems to be fine." Her voice grows quiet as she looks down at Sean, who is oblivious to their conversation and the world around them. His eyes are shut as he eats, his little hands balled into fists, and Terry wonders exactly how this all happened. How did she get so bloody lucky?

There are unshed tears of her own making her throat burn, and she walks over to Raven. Though she can't reach out for a hug, she stands close enough to let Raven get a look at Sean. "I don't know how or why, but we woke up in my bedroom. I'm guessin' I'm back for good. At least I hope I am."

"I hope so, too," Raven says, though the words aren't enough to encompass how much she does hope. She and Theresa might have been off to a rocky start but in the time since she's become one of Raven's closest friends, a confidant. And while she has other friends in the city, there is something to be said for the importance of having another mutant in her life, somebody who understands what others simply cannot.

Raven looks at Sean as he eats, her own mouth curling into a smile tinged with exhaustion. "He's perfect. I'm so glad he's here."

It's strange, looking into Raven's face, seeing blue and yellow and calling her a friend. Even after the disaster of the last few weeks, Terry knows this Raven is someone she will happily trust as a friend.

"He is," she agrees, looking down at Sean again. Sometimes she'll lie in bed and watch him sleep, listen to him breathe and convince herself she isn't dreaming it all up. Terry know she's going to spend most of her life fighting against the fear of losing him again, but she'd rather live with that fear than not have him in her arms.

"I haven't slept more'n a few hours," she admits with a laugh, looking up at Raven again as the tears finally spill over. "And I've been so scared. But he's perfect."

"I can watch him," Raven says immediately, and then just as quickly backpedals. "I mean, if you need someone to."

Despite what they've been through together, and it's been so much, the last couple of weeks and Theresa's version of Mystique have reminded Raven how easily things could have been different. How it's still a little bit of a miracle that Raven is as trusted as she is. It's not hard to think of reasons Theresa wouldn't trust her with baby Sean.

[Raven's still blue, I'm just presently without icons.]

Terry hardly needs to give the offer some thought; there are few friends she can truly trust here, and even fewer that she thinks she could trust with Sean's care. Raven is at the top of that list, and Terry's grateful that she's back home and has a support system now. It makes her future with Sean just a touch less terrifying.

"I'd appreciate that," she says with a nod. When the bottle makes a sucking noise, Terry looks down to see its empty and Sean looking much more content than he did minutes ago. She sets the empty bottle down on the counter and moves Sean carefully so he's resting cheek first against her chest and she begins to pat his back lightly. "I'm not sure who to even ask for help, but I could use it."

"I'm not going anywhere," Raven says by way of answer. Even with Theresa gone from the school, that much wasn't going to change. It's Raven's home, now, a lasting legacy of Charles' ideals and a promise for the future for people like them. Even if it's a promise that's taking a while to be fulfilled. "I'll help you. Both of you."

[Blue.]

"Thank you," Terry says, voice gone quiet with sincerity. She isn't sure how she wound up here, in this very moment, but if her life has lead her to this, then she'll take it. She doesn't have her entire family with her, but she has her son and she's got Raven. It's close enough.

When he receives the text, he goes to see Terry without question. The store can wait to open today or he'll ask Reid to take care of things if he can't get back in an hour or so, but it's important he see Terry if only because he hasn't seen her in some time and the text said she has something rather important to tell him. He has to assume Raven has already seen her, living at the school as she is, but he wants to check on her, too, and make sure everyone is okay.

The past few weeks have been something of a rollercoaster and he can only hope things are beginning to level off.

He stops off in the administrative offices first, checking the mail and going through a few files of paperwork as he turns back down the hall to look for Terry.

"Anyone here?" he calls, though he knows she'll be here somewhere.

Their arrival and her late night, cathartic talk with Raven has left Terry with little sleep, but that's a reality she's going to have to get used to, she knows. She'd been prepared for it years ago; it's simply a matter of getting back into that mindset, but even though she's had Sean for over a week, Terry's not quite there.

He's asleep in his bassinet in her room, and Terry's taken the chance to sit down in the kitchen, giant cup of coffee on the counter beside her as she makes a list of things she needs to do. Find a doctor. Buy more baby items. Tell her friends. The old list one had been started in the apartment in the other Darrow, but restarting here feels better, somehow.

She's less terrified, at the very least, knowing she has Raven around -- and Luke, she's reminded, when she hears his voice in the hall.

Cursing, Terry rushes out of the kitchen, finger on her lips to shush Luke as she brushes past him and heads to her bedroom. The door is cracked open just enough for her to peek in and see that Sean is still fast asleep, and Terry's shoulders drop in relief.

It's only been half an hour of peace and she hopes to keep it going as long as she can.

"I've some news," she tells Luke in a quiet tone, knowing she might look a touch mad at the moment, but she doesn't care. She links his arm with hers and leads him into the kitchen, far enough away that they can have a normal conversation without bothering Sean.

First things first, however. Once in the kitchen, Terry lets go of Luke's arm in favor of giving him a hug, arms wrapped around his waist as she presses her face to his chest. She'd been ready to let go of Luke and Reid and everyone she cared for here, but that didn't mean the decision itself hadn't hurt, and she's simply grateful to see him again.

Luke isn't quite sure what to make of what he's seeing, of Terry popping into her bedroom, of the obvious relief in her frame after she does, of the news she tells him she has as she leads him into the kitchen, but he says nothing as she hugs him. Instead he simply wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her close for a long moment. The school has seemed empty without her presence and Luke knows it hasn't been all that long, but it still feels like it's been far too long since he's last seen her.

"Hi," he says after a moment, tilting his head to look down at her. "You're okay?"

It seems that she is, but he needs to check, he needs to be sure. There has been so much happening in this city, so many things out of the ordinary, it's been difficult to keep track of everyone, especially with all the work he and Reid have been doing between the wedding and Jack possibly coming to live with them. He needs to call more often, stop by the school whenever he can. Hopefully it's the sort of place Jack will come to recognize, too, somewhere he'll be comfortable.

"I'm good," Terry nods, smiling up at Luke as she pulls away. She'd needed that moment, tangible proof that she's actually here, back home -- for this place has become her home -- and safe. With Sean.

"And I have news, like I said." The smile fades as she tries to figure out how best to break the news. Raven and T.J. were the only ones who'd ever known Sean had even existed, and now Terry's realizing for the first time that she's going to be ripping up an old wound and healing it again all within the same conversation. Multiple times.

Best to get on with it, and remember that she has Sean now. The old hurt is still there, but now, so is he.

"I had a son a few years ago," she starts, deciding to dive right into it. No stopping now. Stopping means crying, and she's done plenty of that in the last few hours alone. "I lost him within hours of his birth. I've never forgotten him, not a single detail."

Terry takes Luke's hand briefly to lead him back down the hall to her room. "He had blue eyes and brown hair, just like his da. I named him after mine." When she reaches the door, Terry lowers her voice and opens it enough for Luke to look in. "I found him again, Luke. He was still in his hospital blanket and the first diaper I ever put on him."

Through his life, Luke has known pain. Exceptional pain, really, the kind few people ever experience, but he's very aware he has never once known pain like that. He had seen it in Jocelyn every year, every single time she had taken out Jonathan's box, the little lock of blond hair, every time he'd caught her with wet, red eyes and he'd known. He's seen it, but he can't imagine it, because he's always had Clary. They may be apart now, but he still has her, he knows she's safe, he knows some version of Luke Garroway is still back there for her and that's enough for him to be content.

He squeezes Terry's hand when she takes it, because there's nothing at all he can say to take away any of that hurt. If he were to ever lose Clary, it would be unimaginable and not a single word would ever be a true consolation.

So caught up in that bit of information, in the thought of loss to that extent, he isn't even remotely prepared for what she tells him next and Luke stands in the doorway of Terry's bedroom, staring in at the tiny boy with his jaw slightly dropped. She found him again. Still a newborn, still wearing his first diaper, and his brain tries to process this information before he leans forward a little, far enough to really see the boy, then turns back to Terry, his eyes wide with wonder.

Then he laughs softly, aware there's a sleeping baby very close by, and ducks down to wrap his arms around Terry again, lifting her clear off her feet. He may not have the slightest idea what to say, but he does know it's a cause for celebration and congratulations.

Luke is honestly the first person Terry had wanted to tell after Raven; he's enough of a presence in her life that she can't imagine him not being a part of Sean's life in some way, and she's grateful that she doesn't have to be alone anymore. She'd been prepared for it, for staying in that other Darrow with Sean, but she's glad she's back here. Whatever has happened and however it's all worked out, she's simply happy to be here right now.

And honestly, there are few people she's ever known who give hugs the way he does. She hangs on, laughing quietly into his chest. When her feet on the ground again, she takes his hand, unwilling to let go just yet. "He'll have to meet his Uncle Luke when he wakes."

"He's beautiful, Terry, he really is," Luke says, his voice hushed, taking care not to wake him as he gives her hand a gentle squeeze. There's so much yet for her to explain to him, he has no idea how all this really works, but what's important is how happy she looks. What's important is that she has back a part of her family she'd thought she had lost.

"Come back to the kitchen with me and you can tell me where you found him," he says softly. "I'd love to hear all about it if you're willing to tell me."

And then he can tell her what he and Reid have been planning, the steps they're already taking toward getting Jack into their home. He thinks of how nice that will be for all of them, for Jack, to know Terry's son, to be able to help him grow, too.

Terry nods, shutting the door quietly behind them with only a small amount of reluctance. She's had enough nights with him that she can appreciate a couple of hours of quiet time, but she also finds herself sitting and watching him sleep just because she can.

"Ye want some coffee, or tea?" she asks as she leads them back to the kitchen, making for the fridge once there. They keep the basics stocked, but some of Sean's items have already claimed a shelf in the fridge. "It's a bit of a story."

"Coffee, please," Luke says. Even now, years after no longer being a Shadowhunter, he associates tea with healing, with something necessary after a fight when runes aren't working as quickly as he would like them to. He'll serve it to other people happily, but he preference will always be for coffee.

"Did he not just show up here like we did?" he asks curiously, wondering how that works. A baby arriving on the streets of Darrow would be completely helpless and at the mercy of whoever found him. The very thought makes him uncomfortable, because Luke knows how many terribly cruel people exist in the world. People who might hurt a child they simply found on the street.

"Not quite," Terry says, busying herself in starting a small pot of coffee for Luke and putting a kettle on for herself. It's easier to tell this part of the story when she has something to distract her, when she doesn't quite have to look Luke right in the face.

"He was in the other Darrow. I found him in an empty apartment when I was searching for any trace of me da."

"You found him there?" he asks, although he has no question to follow that up, stunned for a moment at the idea of the baby having just been there in another city. Darrow can be cruel, he's seen that countless times, but the very thought of a helpless child abandoned in an apartment, waiting for someone to find him, that's horrible.

"He was alone?" What if Terry hadn't found him? Luke doesn't even want to begin to think about those awful possibilities.

It's late morning when Eden pulls up at the school, leaving the motorcycle parked outside by the door. Waking up to Terry's text was a bit confusing and then considerably relieving. Something's kept her in the other Darrow, and Eden can't blame her for that; she's wondered herself if she might be happier there, where Jason lives, just in case he can't stay in their Darrow, because someone needs to watch over that kid whether he'll admit it or not. It seems like that city is full of things to pull them over, which makes her nervous, though not enough to stop wondering.

She can't help wondering what Terry's got to tell either. It's good to have her back, though, and she'll find out soon enough. She heads inside, looking for Terry's room, and finally knocking at the door.

Terry's finishing up changing Sean's diaper, and it's the simple things like that she'd never had a chance to do the first time. She'd never changed his diaper. She'd only fed him once. He'd fallen asleep in her arms.

That had been the grand total of her experience with Sean, and she's already done all that and so much more in the last week. The prospect of more time with him, a second chance at an entire lifetime with him, gives Terry enough joy to override the constant fear in her heart.

The knock at the door sounds as Terry's swaddling him in a soft green blanket -- one of the first things she'd bought when she'd found him -- and she leaves him in the bassinet for the time being. He seems content, probably ready to drift off to sleep, and it's perfect timing for whomever has showed up.

When Terry opens the door to see Eden, she gives her a bright smile. She'd done enough crying in the late hours of the night with Raven; what she's left with now is sheer gratefulness at being able to see familiar faces again.

"Hullo. I'm glad ye came," she says, and Terry wonders exactly how to break the news. Eden's had a similar enough life that she can roll with strange news, but this is different. It's a baby.

Might as well rip the band aid off, really.

"Like I said, I've got some news. It's a long story, but...well." Terry steps back and opens the door, letting Eden in to see exactly how much the room has changed. Sean's bassinet is the most of it, taking up a good amount of space next to her bed.

As Eden steps into the room, there's no denying that Terry wasn't kidding about it being big news. Or a long story, though she can't begin to imagine what that might be. There's a crib here, a baby, and she knows Terry wasn't pregnant when she saw her last. That's the kind of thing that would have come up.

"There's a baby," she says, and it sounds incredibly dumb once it's out, but she's not sure what else to say. Wandering closer to the bassinet, her expression softens. She's never had hopes of becoming a mother, too afraid of what would happen if she vanished, if she finally lost the life she's been granted. Or if her child had powers like her own. Seeing a baby, though, she still wishes it could happen. "Oh, my god, he's adorable. Where did it come from?"

"There's a baby," Terry repeats, a laugh in her voice. She absolutely gets Eden's surprise; there are still moments when she wakes up naturally that she forgets and the flood of emotion is just as potent as it was the first time she found him.

"That's part of the story," she answers, walking in and inviting Eden in behind her. She picks Sean up, settling him comfortably in her arms and making sure there's nothing he needs at the moment. Having him in her arms, eyes wide and staring up at her as he grips the finger she offers him, makes it easier to tell the brief version of her story. "I got pregnant a few years ago, and I gave birth to a baby boy. I only had him for a few hours before we lost him."

It's easier to tell the story with Sean in her arms, but that doesn't mean it isn't still difficult. "I was in that other Darrow, when I found him. He was there, cryin' like no time had passed at all."

Hand at her chest, Eden shakes her head. "Poor darling," he says. The idea of this sweet little boy passing so young hurts, but now, she thinks, that's in the past. He's here and that's what matters. It makes him a bit like herself, actually — gone, but back again. This time, she hopes, for good.

And there's no room for hurt when Terry has him back, when she clearly adores her son. Eden's smile grows. "And now he's here. That's incredible. I'm so happy for you two."

Reid is hesitant to go visit, if only because Luke already has, and he doesn't want to seem like he's intruding; but Terry had included him in her text, too, and while that doesn't make Reid feel like he's obligated to see her, it certainly adds to his desire to, just to make sure she's doing alright. He already knows what to expect, Luke had told him about his own visit, so Reid decides to head over to the school on his lunch break.

It isn't until he actually gets there that he realizes he should have texted back first. For all he knows, Terry is far too exhausted to see anyone, or he might be disrupting the baby's sleep, or they might not even be here. There are any number of possibilities, and Reid suddenly feels very foolish just standing out here looking clueless but finally, he manages to pull out his phone and shoot Terry a text.

I'm outside. Is it a good time to say hello?

Terry's half surprised to see a text from Reid, but the pleasure of knowing he's come to visit overrides that immediately. She imagines Luke has broken the news, and that leaves her with room to simply enjoy being able to break the news as a good thing, without having to re-open old wounds.

She scoops Sean out of his baby swing, where he'd been content and drowsy, though not quite asleep yet. With Sean cradled in one arm (he's so small still), Terry heads to the main door and opens it up with only minor difficulty.

"Come in," she says, giving Reid a bright smile. "Sean's actually awake, ye've perfect timin'."

It's easier to think of things to say to people who've lost their children when he's doing it for a case. His is the face parents will remember when he has to break bad news, and Reid had always considered that the worst part of his job, telling families they'd failed to save the ones they love; but the other side of that had meant telling people good news, reuniting families and taking that step back in a moment of such pure happiness, even if there was the promise of a difficult recovery down the road.

He's never had to deal with this before, though. He's never had to think of something to say to a woman who'd lost her baby, only to have him brought back to her again. Reid doesn't know how that's possible or why Darrow had made it happen, but it doesn't matter. All he knows is that a friend has been given this incredible chance to get her child back, and Reid doesn't plan on analyzing the reasons for it.

When Terry opens the door, any potential lines he'd had prepared to say to her immediately disappear from his mind. Instead, Reid's gaze zones directly in on the bundle in her arms, the tiny baby she's holding that takes his breath away, save for a single, soft laugh.

"Wow," he finally manages, taking care to keep his voice low. Stepping inside, Reid closes the door behind him then grins up at Terry with a bit of awe evident in his eyes. "He's beautiful, Terry. I don't even know what to say, I'm just so happy for you."

"Isn't he?" Terry is absolutely, one hundred percent biased in thinking her son is cute, but she's also lucky enough to know exactly what he'll look like when he grows up. (His heritage is something she still doesn't quite know how to explain, but she'll cross that bridge when they come to it. How the hell she's going to raise a child with a power like Sean will have is something she hasn't even considered yet. She's still trying to figure out raising at child at all.) So yes, she can say he's cute and truly mean it without having to be accused to having her rose colored parent glasses on.

"I still think I'm dreamin' most of the time," she admits.

Sean doesn't do much yet except cry, eat, and sleep, but there are short moments where he'll be content enough to take in as much of the world around him as he can, which Terry thinks probably doesn't extend far beyond whoever is holding and/or feeding him. He at least looks like he's interested, and when she shifts him in her arms so he can take a look up at Reid, he seems to focus on him to some degree.

"Hey, Sean," she says gently, "meet yer Uncle Reid."

"My friend JJ used to say that about her son," Reid tells her with a soft laugh, tilting his head to get a better look at Sean as Terry shifts her son in her arms. While his experience with babies don't extend far beyond Henry and Leo, Reid is still very appreciative of how incredible it must be for Terry to be able to do this, to hold the child she'd thought she lost. He can't relate, he'll never be able to, but Terry isn't asking for that. All he really needs to do is be here as a friend, and he's more than capable of doing that, in particular.

To be referred to as 'Uncle Reid,' too, is something that he doubts will ever get old. He misses that, hearing Henry say it, seeing his godson look so happy to see him when there's time to get together. There hadn't been a lot of it, of course, time had been a precious commodity and Reid had never blamed his teammates for wanting to spend it with their families, with the people most important to them. He'd do the same now that he has a family of his own, a fiance and hopefully very soon, a foster son in Jack.

For now, though, he's happy to focus on Sean.

"Hi," he murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger over the baby's tiny hand. "I promise I'll do whatever I can to help take care of you, okay? And your mom, for that matter." Reid glances at Terry, smiling meaningfully, because he means it. Whatever Terry needs, he's happy to offer whatever help he can.

When T.J. wakes up to find a text from Terry on his phone, he isn't expecting it, but he doesn't think twice about going to meet her. It's been a while since he's seen her, enough that he's almost started to worry, so to hear from her now comes as something of a relief. He's lost so many people here; he wouldn't have wanted her to be one of them, too. He texts back on my way as he leaves the apartment, then waits by the curb for a few minutes until he can flag down a vacant cab, one which he has drop him off close to the school but not quite there. Instead, he walks the rest of the way, and sends another text: ok, I'm here.

Whatever it is that's going on, whatever she has to tell him, he thinks it'll be good just to see her again.

It might have been easier to go into town, but Terry's grateful that her friends are willing to come up to the school on so little information. It's not exactly the sort of news that should be shared over the phone.

When she gets T.J.'s text, she's only just finished up changing Sean's diaper, and she knows she's got a short amount of time where he'll be quiet and content in his bassinet. Just enough to get to the door and brief T.J.

Of course, she takes the baby monitor with her, just in case.

"Hey, you," she says when she opens the door, happy to see T.J. again. She knew she'd be leaving friends to stay in the other Darrow with Sean, but what that meant exactly hadn't hit Terry until she'd said goodbye to Raven.

She steps back and out of the doorway to let T.J. in, and immediately reaches out for a hug. "I'm bloody happy to see you."

"God, that makes two of us," T.J. replies, not hesitating a moment before he leans in to embrace her in turn. "I’ve missed you so goddamn much." Seeing Terry now, he can’t even be sure just how long it is, but he suspects it feels like it’s been even longer. She’s one of a handful of people that he’s gotten used to seeing on a regular basis, never mind the fact that she’s easily one of the people here he’s closest to, and not having her around had been weird to say the least. She looks good, though, and that’s got to be a good sign. Getting her text, he hadn’t been entirely sure if he should worry or not, but for now, at least, it doesn’t seem like it.

"So what’s up? You said you had news?"

"I have news," she confirms, trying not to beam like an idiot. T.J. knowing makes it easier to tell -- she doesn't have to go through the most painful part of the story, having already unloaded a few times during meetings. There's an aspect to their friendship that sometimes feels strange, like they've been forced into intimacy, but Terry is glad that she can consider him a close friend despite it all.

She reaches a hand out to lead T.J. down the hall toward her room, and when the reach the door, she touches a finger to her lips before opening it just enough to take a peek inside. Sean's asleep in his bassinet, and the entire room is quiet except for his soft breathing.

"I found him again," she tells T.J., her voice hushed both because of Sean and because she still can't believe the story even though she's told it a few times. "Lookin' exactly like he did in the hospital before he was gone."

T.J. doesn't have the first idea what to expect as he follows Terry down the hallway, though it's at least apparent enough from her expression that whatever she has to show him is a good thing. It's got to be pretty significant, too, if she can't just tell him, leaving him nothing short of intrigued by the time they reach the doorway. Once inside, though, the reason for everything becomes clear enough, the baby and what she has to say about him not requiring any more of an explanation. He's heard about her son before, knows how she lost him and what that did to her. For him to turn up like this, though, he never would have expected, and he's sure the same is true for Terry herself.

"Oh, my God," he says softly, momentarily at a loss for anything else. "Terry, that's... incredible." That's putting it mildly. It's hard to put himself in her shoes, the situation one he can't even imagine, but what isn't hard is to know how much this must mean to her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Dated October 21st]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject