Immortal Bartender - Stucky x Oc Soulmate AU

Chapter 54 - Loving Mother

AN: My friend Sean Waters wrote a song call Humjaw which I decided to add to this chapter to set the mood. https://open.spotify.com/album/60IaBirHrlHg73vFenUNGs I wrote this months ago just trying to find a place to fit it into the story line.

When I opened my eyes I found the barren Soul Realm lying before me. That stupid archway always taunts me, a representation of an afterlife denied to me.

I sat in the orange waters waiting for that pull back to life. This was the first time I had been here and she wasn't here. I can still remember the last time we had all been together.

Chicago July 27 1926 would to this day be one of the worst days of my life. I go over that day over and over every small detail burns into my mind even after all these decades. Another night of feverish nightmares had left me cranky hellish heat of the Chicago summer did nothing to help my already soured mood. I can still smell the sweet scent of blueberry muffins that had filled the house. I can still see Claire dancing in the kitchen with Ethan pathed in the morning sun like angels.

"Morning mom!" Claire had smiled at me, that sweet smile that lit up a dark room.

"Sleep well Miss Jones?" Ethan had been a sweet kid only two years older than Claire.

Those mornings with the kids were like a dream. Life without a war or death just morning muffins and the kids. Sure the nightmares haunted me just around the corner, the war to end all wars had left its marks. No one could have predicted the destruction the first world war would cause nor could we imagine at the time anything being worse. Claire had only been thirteen when we left for war. Four years of blood and violence. I missed watching her grow up.

Sure the coffee wasn't as good as it is now but it never stopped me from pouring the entire pot into my mouth. I never admitted how fond I was of the look of playful disgust on the kids' faces when I did it.

Claire would always whine "Mom! Cup!" before throwing a mug at my head. Ethan would just laugh and shake his head wrapping his arms around Claire.

Doctors these days would say I had PTSD but in 1926 it was shell shock and would end with me in a psych ward getting a daily lobotomy. What would you call it when everytime you close your eyes you see people dying over and over again? The people you killed, the people you let die. It doesn't go away, ever. As much as I tried to hide it I know the kids knew, they both tried to help in their own small ways but nothing kept the nightmares at bay.

Claire had handed me a plate of blueberry muffins. That first bite had been like a little slice of heaven warm and sweet. Oh how I wish for just one morning like that, just one more blueberry muffin.

Someone had knocked on the door Ethan went to see who it was. I had turned around for just a second to fill the mug with coffee when the shot went off.

Claire's scream still rings in my ears even now. Ethan was dead before his body hit the floor, his blood splattered against the wall. I should have never... I should have never turned around. If I hadn't, maybe the kids would still be alive.

Darling Claire, who always was like a diamond in the sunlight had felt the death of her soulmate one of the agonizing pains a person can experience. A pain that digs into your soul ripping you apart from the inside there is no comparison for how that feels.

I froze when the gunmen entered the house. When they raised their tommy guns and sprayed bullets into Claire and me. I didn't even move as the bullets tore through me. Why the fuck didn't I move? I just stood there and let myself be killed. When I had come back the gunmen were gone and Claire was lying in a pool of her own blood.

"You're going to be okay!" I had chanted that over and over like a prayer cradling her in my arms. Maybe if I said it enough times it would be reality. She was barely breathing blood soaking her summer dress a deep red.

"Ethan... he's gone..." It was the only thing she had managed to whisper.

"I'm sorry." What more was there to say in the short time she had left? I had held my daughter in my arms in her final moments and had nothing to say except how sorry I was. The kids should have lived a long and happy life together instead they were killed because of petty greed.

No parent should have to bury their child as much as death has evaded me for centuries. I never prepared myself to bury my kids.

"I don't even know if you can hear me anymore but if you can know that your mom try but it is so hard. She misses you both every day and hopes that you are enjoying yourselves." 

Th familiar tug of my gut as I was ripped back into my broken body. 

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