Healed, But Not Faded

She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest as she woke. The sound of her desperate breaths seemed to be the only thing she could hear.

“Did you have a bad dream, mommy?”

But the child’s innocent voice seemed to ring clear above all else. It always seemed to do that. She realised she always seemed to be listening out for it.

It had been the anniversary of his death. She didn’t think it’d overwhelmed and consumed her as much as it had done in previous years, but seeing as Chloe was standing at the threshold of her room, rubbing her tired little eyes, Michelle realised that perhaps it had been.

Michelle cleared her throat, speaking hoarsely. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to wake you up, honey, I’m sorry.”

Chloe nodded, seeming to understand. She then walked forward, almost intuitively, to the edge of the bed, Michelle quickly trying to wipe her tear-laden eyes.

“Who’s Tony?”

She had to bite her lip so hard to prevent herself from bursting into tears, she nearly bled. When she spoke, her voice was thin, both fraught with emotion and realisation that she must have been screaming his name. “He was…he was my husband.” She cleared her throat again. “He passed away a long time ago, before you were born.” 

Chloe furrowed her brow. “Was he my daddy?”

Michelle squeezed her eyes shut. She always knew this conversation would come up eventually, but she’d wanted to plan it out, wanted Chloe to be a little older, so she could gauge a better understanding of the whole situation. 

It riddled her with anxiety to try and have to explain it in a way a seven year old would understand, but there was no way in hell, Michelle had promised, that she would ever lie to or hide things from her child.

She patted the bed beside her. “Just…come here, sweetheart.”

Obliging, she crawled in, Michelle lying back down to meet her eye. 

“When you were little…you used to live in a different house, with different people taking care of you. Do you remember any of that?”

Chloe’s face grew concentrated in thought, before concluding that she didn’t.

“Your daddy’s name was Samuel, and your mommy’s name was Melanie. Your uncle Joel is Melanie’s brother.”

“What happened to them?”

Gently, she rolled Chloe’s pyjama sleeve up, brushing her thumb over the faint scar on her forearm. 

“One day there was an accident. Some bad people…” She sighed, trying to articulate herself in a way that wouldn’t terrify her child and in-still the fear of terrorism in her. “Some bad people made a big fire, a lot of people got hurt, including you,” Chloe looked down at where Michelle was touching her, “some other people, like your parents, passed away.”

“Will the bad people come back?”

Vehemently she shook her head, speaking with conviction, thumbing with the other hand at Chloe’s cheek. “No, the police have locked them up so they can’t hurt anybody else. You don’t need to worry about that.” 

That, Michelle knew was the truth. CTU had made damn sure to get every last member of that cell and they did.

“So…you adopted me? Like how my friend Sara’s two daddies adopted her?”

A hint of a smile crept across Michelle’s face. “Yeah. Just like that.”

Chloe seemed to accept that, but understandably still had some questions. Michelle could already tell she was the curious, analytical type. It hurt Michelle a little to think that if Chloe O’Brian were still alive, she was sure to have loved her.

“Were you friends with my mommy and daddy?”

She paused. “They didn’t know me. I was one of the people who rescued you. They couldn’t find any other family members nearby to take care of you. And I wanted to make sure you were safe, so I…I adopted you.”

Her green eyes lit up. “You saved me? Like a firefighter?”

Michelle laughed through her nose. “Something like that.”

That was a conversation she was sure to plan for as well. Because she much as she loved her daughter and wished her all the world’s happiness, Michelle would never let her child near that line of work. She had lost and sacrificed so much because of it, she refused to lose anything else. Michelle also knew Jack felt the same way, having clearly stated that he would never let James, now six, nor Drew, their three year old, be fooled into the thrills and prospects of an army career. He and Audrey were still such a huge part of her life, she was so grateful to have them there.

Jack watched her kiss Chloe goodnight and tuck her in from afar. Audrey was doing so similarly to her children, Jack having already read them a story, one bedroom over in the holiday cabin they were all staying in. It never failed to make him smile to watch Michelle take care of Chloe, to see how far she’d come, to see her live her life despite all the tragedies that had happened.

“He’d be proud of you, you know…” He said, quietly.

She turned, furrowing her brow. “What do you mean?”

“He’d be happy to see you thriving, to see you make the most of your life.” There was such a solemn tone to his voice, she could tell he really meant it. “If he really is looking down on you, I think he’d be smiling from ear to ear. To see the fact that you’re still doing the things you wanted to do, even if you’re not together to do them.”

Michelle smiled slightly. “I think Teri could say the same for you.”

“So…you’re still my mommy, because you saved me and because you love me, even though once upon a time I had a different mommy and a daddy?”

Michelle brushed a strand of hair behind Chloe’s ears. “Yes. Exactly. If you ever want to know anything else, you can always ask me. But the most important thing is that I love you with all of my heart, Chloe.” She kissed her forehead. 

“I love you too, mommy.”

Moving back, she was stopped by Chloe’s small hand on her bare forearm. She felt a pang looking down at where she’d pointed.

“Where did this come from? Did you get hurt in the fire like I did?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. Most of Michelle’s scars from the car bomb were on her stomach and back, places Chloe didn’t see, hence why the subject of Tony hadn’t come up until now. But this, the scar that reminded her of her darkest days was not something she wanted to discuss with her seven year old daughter, so innocent, so joyful, despite the tumultuous turn to her life. When she was older, she would have to explain this eventually too, but not now, she decided.

To her relief, the sound of paws across hardwood floor distracted Chloe.

“Colonel!”

Their St. Bernard puppy whined, eager for attention, oblivious to the time of night. Chloe leaned down to scoop him up and placed him in her lap.

Major had passed in his sleep a little over a year ago now. It had hit Michelle harder than she’d envisioned, namely because it had really been the final living thing tied to Tony she’d had left. But that dog had brought her so much happiness even in the worst of times. So it didn’t surprise her when she’d agreed to Chloe’s request to adopt a new puppy about half a year later. Since Chloe had been the one to gravitate towards and fall in love with the St. Bernard at the pound, she’d insisted her mother picked out the name. In keeping with some semblance of tradition, she’d settled on Colonel.

Chloe yawned, despite her excitement. 

“How about I take you back to your room, so you can have lots of energy to play with him tomorrow?”

Michelle threw the stuffed cow across the room, smiling as she watched Colonel jump off the bed to chase it, knowing the puppy would grow tired soon again.

“But you had a bad dream, mommy. Do you want me to stay with you like you do when I have them?”

Michelle smiled, wondering for the umpteenth time how she’d become so blessed to have her daughter in her life, cuddling her closer, not wanting to ever let herself forget how to feel happy again.