TITLE: “Mourning Has Broken”

AUTHOR: Kathmak (Kate)

FEEDBACK: Sure

RATING: PG

CATEGORY: Vignette (V)

KEYWORDS: Doggett/Reyes (DRR) Married

SUMMARY: Monica is missing her mother as she awaits the birth of her first child.

SPOILERS: None

DISCLAIMER: Not mine.

A/N: This idea came from some feelings that I have experienced after losing my own mother. She was my best friend, and I think of her every day.

 

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She was dreaming of her mother again. 

 

They were shopping for baby clothes at some trendy little boutique in Georgetown.  Monica’s mother was holding up little pink and blue onesies to Monica’s large, round belly, gently chiding her as only a mother could.

 

“But, Mama, it will make things so much easier,” Monica protested with a whine.  “That way we’ll know whether to buy for a boy or a girl.”

 

Her mother made a little clucking sound with her tongue and frowned disapprovingly.  “Monica, this child is a gift from God.  Every child is.  It doesn’t matter if it is a boy or a girl.  Just be happy that the baby is healthy.  And that the father of your child loves you more than life.”   

 

She patted Monica’s hand reassuringly and reminded her yet again of what was most important in this world.

 

Suddenly, Monica woke with a start.  She sat up and looked around, slightly disoriented.  It was then she realized that she was in her bed in her home in Falls Church and not shopping for baby clothes with her mother after all.  Sadness overtook her and she reached for her husband in the dark, anxious to feel his strong, loving arms around her.  Only he wasn’t there. 

 

Monica threw on a robe and walked toward the stairs, following the light that glowed softly from the living room down below.

 

“John?” she called out hesitantly as she made her way down the steps. 

 

“Down here, hon,” he answered, his voice only slightly louder than the sound of Sportscenter coming from their new flat screen television. 

 

She found him sitting on the overstuffed leather couch in the living room, his feet propped up on the coffee table, the TV remote in one hand.  His other hand dangled aimlessly off the end of the couch.  Monica studied his mussed hair and his five o’clock shadow and even now, in the middle of the night, she felt butterflies racing around in her stomach at the sight of him.  In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t feel that way around him.

 

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” John asked.

 

Monica shook her head. 

       

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said in answer to her unasked question.  “So I figured I’d catch up on some baseball scores.”

 

Monica barely acknowledged his last statement.  “I woke up and you weren’t there.” She sounded almost childlike and was clutching her arms to her chest when she said this, and John sensed that something was amiss.                 

“C’mere.”  John opened his arms to her, an invitation Monica accepted immediately.  She climbed onto his lap and sank into him like a deflated balloon.

 

John began to gingerly stroke her hair.  “What’s goin’ on?  Is everything okay?”

 

She nodded into his neck.  “Yeah.  It’s just . . . well, I had another dream about my mother.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Mon.  I know how much you miss her,” he said sympathetically.

 

Monica blinked back a few tears.  “I wished she could have lived to see her grandbaby.  She wanted so much to be a grandmother.” 

 

“I know, sweetheart.  I know.” 

 

John placed his hand on Monica’s belly to touch the tiny bump that was his unborn child.  She was just starting to show and he could barely contain his excitement about the fact that they were going to be parents.  And while this was undoubtedly the happiest time of their lives, he also realized that it was bittersweet for Monica.  She was still grieving the loss of her mother, who had passed away barely six months before Monica learned she was pregnant.  He remembered how jubilant his own mother was when Luke was born, and it made him feel doubly sad for his wife. 

 

She put her hand on top of his and squeezed it reassuringly.  It was almost as if she could tell what he was thinking.  Actually, Monica had always had that ability but it seemed to intensify now that she was with child.  John wondered if their baby would inherit his or her mother’s intuitive gifts.

 

He wished he could take all of her sadness away, but he knew she didn’t expect that of him.  John had learned pretty early on in their relationship that he didn’t always have to try and fix everything.  Sometimes all she wanted him to do was listen to her and tell her everything was going to be alright.  

 

“You’re going to be a great mom.  And I love you, Monica,” he said soothingly.  “More than life.”

 

Monica pulled away and looked at him as if she’d seen a ghost.  “That’s what Mama said.  In my dream.”

 

John smiled.  “Listen to her.  She knows what she’s talking about.”

 

“I know she does.  She told me something else, too.”

 

He kissed her softly and pressed his forehead against hers.  “Oh yeah?  What?”

 

“She said we shouldn’t find out the sex of the baby in advance.  We should just hope for a healthy child.”

 

John pondered this for a few seconds.  They hadn’t yet talked about this aspect of the pregnancy, but truth be told he was a little relieved the subject had now come up. 

 

“She’s right again,” he said.  “I don’t want to know.  I kinda like surprises.”

 

Monica stared at him in disbelief.   “Yeah right.  Since when does John Jay Doggett like surprises?”

 

“Since I fell in love with you, mamacita,” he answered with a grin. 

 

Monica couldn’t suppress a chuckle.  “I love you, John.”

 

“I love you, too, baby.”  He put his feet on the floor and she slid off his lap.  They stood up in unison and he extended his hand to her.  “Now let’s go get some ice cream.  There’s a pint of ‘Chunky Monkey’ in the freezer with our names on it.”

 

She took his hand and they walked into the kitchen together. 

 

 

~End~