Remembering Mother's Day A Little!Danny fic by: Maj. Cliffhanger
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"Hi, mom," he offered quietly, staring down at the grave in the cool evening shadows. He offered the bouquet of flowers he held a wistful glance, then bent and slipped them into the vase provided with the headstone. As always, he slipped a single rose free and put it in the flower vase for his father's grave. It was something he remembered her doing that last mother's day they'd all had together.
They'd been in New York no more than a few hours before his father had made some excuse to go to the store for some little something they'd left in Egypt.
'Strange how easily the memories came now that he'd been turned into a kid again.
It had all been a ruse, of course, including the offer to take Danny with him so she could finish unpacking in their hotel room in peace. They'd returned with a dozen red roses, a large box with a tissue wrapped evening gown his father had chosen for her and dinner reservations at a particularly nice restaurant.
That night played out so clearly and easily now before his mind's eye....
At eight the first time around, he hadn't understood the romantic connotations of what his father had done. All he'd known was that his mother cried. It had taken her a while to calm him down and make him understand that they were 'happy' tears. His father had insisted it was a very good thing.
He smiled at the memory now, remembering the rest of the night as well and how he'd pretty much ruined it by being a cranky and uncooperative little jerk. He hadn't taken a nap on the plane and the time zone difference between Egypt and New York had him all out of sorts - at least that was the excuse his mother and father gave it. It wasn't the time zone difference that had made him eat his dessert too fast and get sick in the middle of the restaurant!
The wait staff and maitre d' had gotten big tips that night.
His mother had later given his father a rose from her bouquet with a flourish, proclaiming him her hero. Danny had to admit, he'd earned it!
They'd both been killed less than a week later.
Now, here he was eight years old again, missing them both like it was yesterday and desperately trying to hang onto the happy memories. He'd actually been quite upset last year when he made the same pilgrimage he always tried to make this time of year and found that he could no longer remember either of their voices.
Be careful what you wish for, he told himself. He remembered them now. It actually almost made the accident that had downsized him worth while though he'd never admit it.
He carefully poured the water he'd brought with him into the bottom of both vases, recapped the plastic bottle and straightened again. Offering a quick prayer, he turned to go - only to have Jack stay his action with a hand on his shoulder.
"What?" the older man asked quietly. "You're just going to drop off the flowers and go? No way. You have to at least tell them what happened." He squeezed Danny's shoulder and bent down to whisper in his ear. "Talk to them," he ordered. "I'll be on the bench over there when you're ready." He indicated a park bench that had been placed along the visitor's path a couple hundred feet away.
Jack gave Danny's shoulder another light squeeze and turned to go, only to have Danny suddenly grab his hand and pull him to a stop. "Stay," he insisted, looking through the tears that were suddenly clouding his sight. He blinked sharply and lifted a hand to wipe away the wetness that fell. "I need to introduce you."
Jack hesitated for a second and then nodded. Hitching his pants up, he suddenly turned to sit cross-legged on the perfectly groomed grass between the two headstones, making himself comfortable before drawing Danny into his lap. "So, introduce me," he said and waited for Danny to begin.