Change is good, unless it isn't

Chapter 1

Normani walks into the morgue expecting to see Dr. Pike lounging lazily at his desk as he usually did around lunchtime. Instead, she turns the corner and sees a woman flittering about in five inch heels reorganizing the entire room. Confused, Normani turns a complete circle to make sure that she was, in fact, in the morgue.

The woman looks over just in time to see her spinning around. Normani, embarrassed at getting caught spinning in circles, awkwardly tries to clear her throat. She finally stammers out, "Wher-where's Dr. Pike?"

"He retired yesterday," the woman says with her head cocked to the side. "May I ask what you needed him for?"

"I, uh... I just needed to ask about a case." She shakes her head as if to rid herself from stuttering any more. "Do you know where I can find the medical examiner?"

"I'm the new chief medical examiner," she extends her hand for Normani to shake, "Dr. Dinah Jane Hansen."

Normani shakes her hand and can't help but notice how soft it feels in her own. "Oh," her eyes get wide, and she jerks her hand back from the prolonged contact. "Oh! I'm Detective Kordei. But, you can call me Normani."

She has never allowed anyone she had just met to call her Normani, but there was just something about this woman that makes her feel at ease.

"Okay, Normani, it's wonderful to meet you," she says with a smile that brings out her dimples and lights up her eyes.

And at this moment, Normani completely forgets the reason she went down to the morgue to begin with. She leans her hip against the desk. "So, what made you decide to come to Boston?"

~~~~~~~~~

4 years, 2 months, and 8 days. That's how old Tanner was when they found out he had cancer.

5 years, 6 months, 17 days. That's how old he was when the treatments completely stopped working.

Dinah exhausted every resource to try and cure him. Chemotherapy, bone marrow transplants, and even alternative medicine in Mexico. But none of it had helped him. It was time to face the fact that her son was dying and there was nothing she could do to save him.

She walks over to the hospital bed where he lay for the last time. They were sending him home, a gesture of one last comfort he will be able to experience. His head is cool as she strokes the spot his once dark brown hair used to reside. He is pale, frailer than she had ever seen him. She knew it's a miracle he was still breathing, even if she didn't believe in them.

He slowly opens his eyes and looks up at her, giving her the best smile his weak body can muster. She realizes, now, that his eyes really are the only things besides his hair that closely resemble her. Her lips press softly against his cheek, aware of how easily he bruises these days.

She would do anything to keep him with her. To be able to hold him against her at night, smell the baby shampoo in his hair, hear his laughter as she pushed him in the swings at the park. But it wasn't fair for her to ask him to stay with her when he is clearly in so much pain. When the cancer was reeking so much havoc to his insides that he could no longer walk more than five minutes at a time or eat solid food without crying. Even though she'd do absolutely anything to keep him with her, it isn't fair to ask him to stay and she knew it.

A tear rolls down her cheek, which quickly turns to many, many more. No matter how hard she tries, she can't keep herself from crying. She holds his hands and presses her forehead softly against his, fighting the lump in her throat and the sobs escaping her lips. She doesn't want him to think he has to stay for her, not when his body clearly can't take much more.