Hi, I just had to tell you that I'm still thinking about the Pope's Secret Wife you wrote, it keeps spinning around in my head and I love it
eeee!! i've been thinking about it so much that i started a second part
(pope had tried going home. his key didn't work, his wife didn't answer the knock on the door. you must be out somewhere doing something else. so he leaves, goes to his mothers house to say hello and kill time)
"I'll just go back to my place."
smurf looks at her son. the way she looks at baz passes the responsibility onto him. "you can't, man," he says and looks back at pope. "we sold it."
the rest of the cody's try not to be scared of pope. yeah, they wonder what folsom did to him, but he wouldn't hurt them, right? smurf wouldn't let him.
but, right now, they can't tell. their brother is fucking crazy and he looks like he wants to hurt every person in this room.
"where's my wife?" he asks, his voice a deadly calm. "where's my fucking wife?!"
"it's okay, baby," smurf says, reaching for him again. "we've kept her safe, but we've got some stuff to take care of before that."
smurf has you. pope had spent so long trying to keep you and your daughter safe from his family and she has you.
"i'm upset with you, pope," smurf says as she fixes herself another drink. "keeping my beautiful grandbabies from me."
a knock at your door. it's had you jumpy for the last three years, since your husband was taken from you. the people that knew never told you what happened, leaving you entirely in the dark as you raise two kids in a dingy apartment.
and you're afraid, terrified. which of her sons would she send to demand rent cheques that you couldn't pay? it went the same way every time. you insisting that you can't pay, craig or deran (baz rarely came by) getting smurf on the phone. she agrees to let the rent go if you bring her grandbabies by.
her grandbabies. not your children. not andrews children. but her grandbabies. you feel sick each and every time you take them into that house, the house your husband was abused in.
you look through the peephole. smurf stands on the other side of the door, her sons flanking her. you turn to your daughter, colouring in front of the tv. "belle, honey," you call and your six year old turns to you. "go sit with your brother."
she nodded and heads towards the bedroom she shares with her brother, who is currently napping.
you pull the door open just enough for smurf to see your face. "what do you want, smurf?" you ask, your voice short.
"drop the hostility, baby," she says, trying to look behind you. you block her view. "i've got a surprise for you."
your jaw is set, your stare hardened. whatever smurf had, it couldn't good. you look to the side.
his hair is shorter, his shoulder hunched like he's carrying the weight of the world. "andrew?" you breathe like you can't quite believe it.
he looks at you and you finally see your husband. you run at him, unable to hold yourself back. he doesn't catch you when you wrap your arms around him, doesn't kiss you back when you press your lips to his. no, he's staring at his mother like he wants to put a bullet in her head.
"where's belle?" he whispers, like his mother won't find out if he says it quietly enough.
"she's inside," you answer and reach for his hand. "i have to tell you something."
but you don't want to say it with his family surrounding you. you want to drag him into the apartment, into the place where you had to try and build a life without him. fuck, you want to cry.
your spine stiffens as belle runs out of the apartment. she runs at smurf, who immediately drops down for a hug. "there''s my best girl!" smurf cries. you know she truly loves your kids, her grandkids, but that woman is nothing but bad. she looks up at you as she hugs belle. "where's adam?" she asks you.
you pull your husband behind you. you pull hi into the apartment while smurf asks your daughter if she'd like to come live in her house. "i have to tell you something," you say quietly as andrew follows you. "I was pregnant when you left."
six words so easily shatter his world. andrew looks at you, looks around the apartment. it's an entire mess, like you partially stopped functioning without him. only holding on for your kids.
"you have a son, andrew," you say and reach up to feel his hair. he lets you.
you lead him through the apartment to the kids bedroom. adam sleeps in his crib, holding onto a teddy almost the same size as him. a little boy, a little version of andrew, sleeping like an angel.
andrew doesn't cry. he stares at his son with the same fondness he uses to look at his daughter. a sweet man that's been through so much, that just wants to love his family. he reaches down, brushes adams cheek with his finger.
pope decides it then. he's gonna make this right. he's gonna do whatever jobs smurf wants him to so that he can find you a better place to live. a place where your neighbours aren't all low level criminals.
(smurf brings you to live with her while andrew is at the motel. she doesn't give you much of a choice; your kids are living in a 'safe environment' and your husband spends every day at her house, every day with you.
at first, belle doesn't recognise her dad. she was almost three when he went in, six when he came out. it breaks pope's heart, until she comes to him one day.
"mommy showed me pictures of you," she tells him, staring up at him with his eyes. "she says you're my daddy."
he nods at her. "i am your daddy," he says and crouches down in front of her. belle takes his hand. and that's good enough for him)