heart like yours (jennifer jareau)

4. thirteen

AN: hi guys! happy monday!!

soooo we have like a 16K chapter here yikes but i wanted henry to be born in a .13 so he's being born in this .13 and it's just gonna be massive and we're all gonna have fun!!!

like this is truly the start of lilah and jj in their mom eras with their boys and i love it!!

just a few TWs:
funerals and dead people
mentions of stabbing and sexual assault
daddy issues
labour and childbirth
baby trauma? idk babies are weird man

other than that, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter and have a beautiful week!! <333

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"you and only you can make the rest of my life peaceful." - madeleine smith 

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If Delilah was truthful, she really did not want to go to a five year old little boy's funeral, but she was at his funeral, and she wanted to go home.

Funerals were weird. Her first funeral was her mother. Delilah only really remembered clinging to Liv's hand the entire time and throwing violets down on the coffin before she had asked Liv if they could go home now.

They hadn't held a funeral for Dylan when he initially died. His funeral was last November, a year ago, now, and Delilah hadn't been there because it was a funeral for all the boys they found and the entire town would've been there just days after she got out of the basement.

She couldn't go and say goodbye to him, but it was for the better that she was not there. Dylan deserved peace in his death, especially from her after she'd put him through so much while he was alive.

And Eli's funeral hadn't even really been a funeral at all, in truth. Liv identified the body, Dave paid for the burial, and Liv went alone to see his grave after he was buried because Delilah point blank had refused to go anywhere near him.

She still had yet to see where her brother was buried. She wondered if Talia had taken Ziggy to visit it. She wondered if Ziggy even knew that Eli was buried and not cremated, like he knew Dylan had been cremated but also had a grave stone to represent how he was finally home to rest in the town he grew up in.

She didn't like funerals. They made her uncomfortable, and awkward, and they were just fucking weird, anyway. Open funerals were even weirder, with invitations given to nobody specific. Anybody could be here, and funerals should be private.

Delilah did not want a funeral when she died. She didn't want to be buried, either. She wanted to be cremated, and she wanted some of her ashes to be placed with Dylan's. Whichever family member was alive could decide what to do with the rest of her. As long as some part of her went home, she didn't care what happened to the rest of her.

She just wanted to die and for people to move on and forget about her. She'd been waiting for death since the day she was born. It would just be the final piece clicking into place when she died. Nobody needed to mourn her. A million versions of the girl she'd once been had been mourned by her family before and she knew they were tired of it.

She was tired of mourning herself. It was exhausting being a dead girl walking.

Delilah didn't really know how to act at this funeral. She knew it was obvious to literally anyone who looked at her that she didn't know how to act. She stood by Spencer and Derek, shifting on her feet, tugging on her necklace, eyes darting around the crowd in a mixture of restlessness and actually trying to do her job and find this unsub.