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Sweet Child Of Mine

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Summary: James David Rossi died at birth. But Jessica Harris was the nurse present that day and she kept a very heavy secret from everyone.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Criminal MindsATLenyaFR1845,02503113,90710 Nov 1114 Nov 11No


Disclaimers: None of it is mine. Neither of Criminal Minds or BtVS cannon universes are my own but they're free to the public so I like to play in that sandpark and do wicked things with them 8D

A/N: I'm tweeking the timelines here. I know that the date on David Rossi's son's grave is somewhere in the early 70s' but I really wanted to use Xander as his son, so it'll be the early 90s' rather. And BtVS' timeline is fudged up too, for the same intent. :| Call it artistic license whatever, I just wanted it that way but I'll try and keep it believable :'D

Made a few modifications on dates and such because it'd fit the chronology I have put up better.


David sat there next to James’ grave for a bit longer, sipping his wine. He nearly couldn’t make himself look at his ex-wife’s grave, the hurt and keen sense of betrayal still too fresh in his mind, even if his reasonable half had already forgiven the woman for leaving him with the burden of being here while she was slipping away and not doing anything. But her last words to him still rang in his head, their echo leaving him feeling a bit hollow and sad. It always brought him back to thoughts of his stillborn son. He would have turned seventeen a few months ago.
Everything had been going so smoothly. They had had previous scares with two unsuccessful pregnancies. James had been a godsend. In the middle of their marriage that was starting to fall apart, him getting immersed in his job to forget the hurt and tiredness that came with getting his hopes up with the pregnancies only to crash down even faster when they failed and her grasping at straws and trying to hold onto him. Both lovers had welcomed that third pregnancy with a little bit of hope and a lot of reservations, but they held on and it all seemed to go so well, their marriage slowly getting away from that brink.
Then came that faithful night, David could remember how very excited he had been, but Carolyn had lost some blood during the first contractions and he had been asked to step out. Unable to be by her side, fearful and yet excitedly nervous while they delivered the baby, he had waited in dreadful silence in the desensitized halls of the hospital. He had even thought he’d heard a baby’s wails over the cries of exertion and sobs.
But then the doctor had come out, looking grave and pale. “I’m so sorry, Mr Rossi. We tried everything we could, but your son was dead before delivery… choked on his umbilical cordon…”
He’d remember those exact words for the rest of his life. They were branded on his heart like a painful, derisive mark. The doctors told them that the stillborn baby was underdeveloped and it was better for their morale not to see him. His ex-wife had then insisted again and again that she wanted to see her baby. To see for her own eyes what her heart couldn’t cope with, but they refused.
They held a small funeral with a tiny casket closed and sealed. That was the downfall of their marriage and it took a long time for either of them to accept it and the fact that neither could have done anything more that would have meant for James to live. It took her years and a divorce before Carolyn could forgive him but they stayed in touch, through thick and thin. Distant, but still there, the pain of losing their child still present whenever they saw each other, lurking in the other’s eyes. But at least, the years softened it to a lingering pang nowadays.
And now she’d gone and joined him at last.
David Rossi was a pure product of Catholic upbringing, he believed in Heaven and in the End of Days, and somewhere, up in those still blue skies, he hoped Carolyn was embracing that child that he never even got to hold.

A small eulogy was published in the Washington Post, deploring the loss of one Carolyn Rossi, making mention of her hardwork and her heartbreaks. And for some reason, many miles away, a young man, 17 and 2 months now, picked up a Washington Post newspaper from where it was laying in his high school library, a bit of an oddity considering he lived in the great state of California. But he really thought nothing of it and just dropped it in his bag with the rest of his books, not realizing this would bring about a turning point in his life.
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