This is a re-upload.  All of the comments for this chapter along with the chapter itself disappeared after the shut down of AFF a couple of days ago.  I just wanted to get this back up and remind you guys to drop any ideas you have for Machine on by because I'm still clueless on that one.

#51 – Grave

Taemin shifted uncomfortably, moving from foot to foot and adjusting little Munhee where he sat against his hip.  His other hand held Jinae’s tightly as the little girl looked on in barely concealed wonder. 

Several feet in front of them Kibum stood, stiff backed, a vase of flowers clutched in his white-knuckled hands. 

It was the one-year anniversary of his grandmother’s death, an event that had sent Kibum’s own life into a tailspin from which Taemin and his children had jumpstarted his recovery. 

He was six months out of his job as a fashion designer now, and was happily spending time with his children and seeing them grow and develop.

But as the anniversary came around Kibum knew he had to revisit that old pain.  So alongside his loving family, all adorning themselves in black, he brought flowers to the marble memorial stone placed alongside her husband’s that Taemin and Kibum had spared no expense for, reading ‘Beloved Grandmother – Eternally Missed.’

But when they arrived, standing there in front of the memorial to the woman who had stood by them when it seemed that practically everyone else in the Kim family was shunning them, the woman who had stepped in to fill the role of maternal figure in Kibum’s life when his own mother was unable, or unwilling to, was Kibum’s mother. 

The former designer’s back had gone stiff and a fervent sense of tension filled the air.  Taemin knew before his eyes had even processed the sight before him that something was drastically wrong.

Kibum and the woman who had given life to him met eyes across the courtyard.  All around tombs stood in silent witness to their reunion, the first in almost four years.  Since that long ago Christmas where Kibum finally asserted his backbone against his mother there had been no communication.  Not as much as a phone call or a Christmas card was exchanged between the two.  Once even they pretended not to notice each other when they ran into each other in a store, both knowing full well exactly who the other had been. 

And now they were face to face, in the presence of their family’s dead and they could not pretend not to have noticed once more.

“Who’s that Papa?”  Munhee’s little voice asked quietly, carried straight to the ear of Mrs. Kim in the unearthly calm air.

“She looks familiar…kind of like Appa…” Jinae added, crinkling her little brow in deep thought.

Mrs. Kim winced.  Every time she spoke with her mother-in-law in the three years leading up to her death the woman had told her to make amends with her son.  It was her mother-in-law who brought pictures of the growing Jinae by the house so that she could she the beautiful little girl, or photos from their wedding and even a little bit of the cake.  Once she had brought by a photo of all four of them, taken just shortly before she passed away.  She didn’t know that the woman had stolen the photo and tucked it away to steal glances at every night. 

She missed her son, her only child, so deeply that words could not define it.  But she knew that she had been the cause of the rift.  She had been the reason that her son did not call or write when they had been so close before.  She thought she had been doing the right thing by trying to pull her son away from Taemin, everything she had ever been taught told her so.  She thought for sure that the close relationship that she had always had with her son would draw him back, make him realize that he missed her and the normal relationships that he should have. 

But then she would steal glances at that picture.  A happy, laughing family that didn’t need to force smiles at the photographer’s behest.  And in her son’s lap, a mischievous little boy who looked like he was ready to bolt, being held fast in his father’s arms – her son’s arms – a little boy that she had never even met, a grandson that she had never known.

And she stood her today, watching the family united in grief and duty for the same woman who had tried so desperately while she was alive to teach a wayward daughter-in-law a much needed lesson.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as the tears sprang forward, one hand rising to cover and the gasping breath that tore its way out.

Her knees buckled but strong arms clasped her shoulders before she could slam the ground.  Cold water sloshed down her back from the vase that Kibum was carrying as he rushed to hold her up.  The flowers in her hand tumbled to the ground as her fingers lost their strength.

“Mom…” Kibum gasped, trying to pull her up but her legs would not catch her and she hung in his arms.  “Mom!”

Kibum fell to his knees, trying to support the woman to whom he had not spoken in the past four years. 

She couldn’t seem to catch her breath and continued to sob into her son’s shoulder, her hands gradually climbing up his arms and her fingers sliding into the woolen fabric of his pea coat and clenching tight in a desperate clutch, unwilling to let him go after he had materialized in front of her now.           

Kibum was at a loss.  When he saw his mother at the grave he had felt that same simmering resentment that had dogged him for years when he thought of her.  But this time he could not look away.  There was something in her face, a slight difference in her stance that completely threw him off.  He had felt off balance the second that she had turned and he had seen her face, and it finally occurred to him what was missing.

The contempt and resentment that had always been there on her face, no matter how she tried to hide it, ever since she found out that he was with Taemin was gone.  Instead she just looked tired, sad and even a bit lonely.

He had heard her apology, it had echoed through his head even as he dove forward to grab her before she fell to the ground.  It wasn’t one of the hollow “I’m sorrys” that he had put up with for years.  It had weight; it felt like it came from deep within her, from the core of her being.

“Mom…” he whispered, his arms around her and feeling a little part of himself happy for being near her again but still holding himself back, not willing to let the whole terrible mess start itself over again.

He pulled himself back, hearing the chants of his children.

He turned, twisted more like from his position kneeling on the ground, to see Taemin guiding their children back down the hill that they had just walked up, singing some silly children’s song with them.

Kibum was grateful.  A part of him knew that he needed this, that he needed to speak to the woman again and that he had always known that this day would eventually happen. 

He was scared; he didn’t know how it was going to turn out.  Would it be a rehash of that fateful phone call years ago when he had ordered the woman out of their lives?  Would she finally understand?  Would he get his mother back? 

“Mother…” he tried again, his voice steady as he gently pushed her away. 

She face looked shuttered as it came into view, as though she was as nervous as he was right now. 

He gently placed the vase against the memorial, grimacing at some of the slightly crushed flowers but knowing that his grandmother wouldn’t really mind. 

“How’ve you been?” he asked cautiously.

“I’ve been…alright…” she answered, sounding confused at having even been asked the question in the first place.

The silence was awkward. 

And it remained so.

Kibum didn’t know what he thought was going to happen.  Maybe he was waiting for some sudden light from the heavens that would make everything alright…

But this wasn’t a movie.  It was real life.  And in real life things didn’t just magically work their way out.  You had to put the effort in yourself; you had to fix things yourself.

Kibum squared his shoulders.  He ran from problems too often.  He couldn’t keep doing it now. 

He squared his shoulders and opened his mouth to speak, but his mother beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her eyes boring into the ground and avoiding her son’s gaze.  “I’m so sorry.”

Kibum bit his lip.  “What exactly are you sorry for?” He whispered, hoping with every fiber of his being that it was for what he thought, or hoped, it was for – and that she actually meant it this time.

“My son…” she breathed, running the tips of her fingers gently down Kibum’s face.  “I’m so sorry that I hurt you…” 

Kibum felt his throat working, as he clenched his teeth trying to stem the tears that were trying to flow.  He had wanted this for so long, dreamed of it for so long – that his mother might actually come around – but he didn’t know what to do with himself now that the promise was presenting itself. 

“Mom…” Kibum voice cracked and he was unable to go on.

“I love you so much,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion.  “I just couldn’t understand…I didn’t want to understand…”

She smiled at him and then reached down into her purse which had spilled over at her side.  She pulled out a leather-bound planner and opened it.  Dozens of newspaper and magazine clippings were contained inside, some spilling out from the angle. 

Kibum reached out and grabbed one that had drifted to his own leg.  It was an article that had been printed just after his petition to legally adopt Jinae had gone through.  There was a small picture with the article, one of him and Jinae playing at a park that some photographer had captured without their knowing. 

“You look so happy…you’re doing so well…” she shrugged self-consciously.  “I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long now…your grandmother kept telling me stories of how you were, and the kids.  She told me I would love Munhee; that he was just like you when you were at that age…”

He mouth kept working but she couldn’t find the words to fill it.

She really just didn’t know what to say.  She had played this moment in her head so many times that she thought that she would be ready for it when it came but she was wrong.  Nothing felt right and it all felt like sand running through her fingers.

“I am happy.  We’re happy.” He said, looking up and meeting his mother square in the eyes.  “I love my life and my family with all of my heart.”

She smiled a sad little smile, “I’m glad.  Really, I’m glad that you’re happy.  I’m glad that you found someone who makes you happy.”

Kibum scrunched his eyebrows together.  “Why now?  Why is it okay now when it wasn’t before?  Did the laws changing really change that much?”  Kibum spoke quickly and tried to drill his eyes into his mother, needing to know but fearing the answer.

“Kibum…I lost my son.  That darling little boy who would go shopping with me, who wrote me so many letters once he left home to become an idol.  I lost him.” A few silent tears slipped down her face but she didn’t brush at them.  “I lost him because I am a fool.  I couldn’t open my eyes and see the truth, the happiness that he had found.  I wasn’t willing to.” She finished in a whispered and started at her hands clasped in her lap. 

Kibum couldn’t speak for a moment.  “…and now?”

“And now, I would do anything to go back and slap myself, because I need my son.  I need to see him and love him and care for him…and it shouldn’t matter who he loves, because he has found love.”

She reached out her hand and Kibum was shocked to see a few age spots having tacked themselves on over the years since he had last seen here.  She clasped his own hand in hers, “Kibum I am a fool.  A stupid, ignorant, backwards fool.  I see that now.”  She gestured with her free hand towards his grandmother’s memorial.  “I finally understand what it is that she was trying to tell me all these years.  You’re still Kibum, you’re still my son.  And Taemin is still Taemin, the great man that he’s always been.  It doesn’t matter, it’s such a stupid thing to worry about…it’s not worth losing my family over.  I…” she stopped, gasping and seemingly unable to continue.

Kibum closed his eyes and focused on the words as they left her lips, his fingers tightening around her hold.  It was what he had wanted to hear, maybe not as eloquently as he had imagined, but still…she said it.  And Kibum really hoped that she meant it.

“So what are you going to do about it?” he asked blankly, placing the ball in her court.

She gaped at him; surprised that he was even giving her a shot after all she had put him through over the years.       

“I want to know my son again.  I want to see you, and your family.  I want my family back.”

Kibum straightened.  “I want this to be true.  I really, really do.  But I’m not letting you near my family yet.  I’m sorry, but I have to be sure.  I can’t let you into their lives only for you to take off or not be in this for the long haul.  I can’t let you do that to my kids…” Kibum sighed.  “I can’t give Munhee another family member to be taken away again…he’s already lost one set of parents…”

“How about I start with you.” She said, surprised that he was giving her anything really.  “A cup of coffee just to talk over…bring Taemin with you!  I need to apologize to him as well.  It wasn’t fair…”

Kibum nodded, “I need to talk with Taemin.  This affects our family and we both need to be involved.”

She nodded and patted Kibum’s hand, “You do that.  You know how to reach me.  My number hasn’t changed in all of these years.”

She started to push herself up off of the ground, her old bones weary of the chilled earth. 

Kibum jumped to aid her up.  “I’ll let you know…but mom…”

Her head swung up to match his as she gained her balance.

“Thanks for saying sorry, if nothing else.  I really hope that you mean it this time…” Kibum said wistfully.

She didn’t know how much it took Kibum to say that, but he wanted her to know what this was doing to him.  What he had gone through at her hand. 

And he may have wanted to guilt her a little bit, but he was only human. 

“I do Kibum, I do.” 

She started to walk away, the opposite way from where Taemin had guided the children, when Kibum called out to her. 

“Wait…” and she turned slightly, a gently breeze blowing her hair over her face temporarily before she tucked it behind one ear.  “Do you…” Kibum faltered before rushing on, “Do you want a picture?  Of the kids?” he tacked on when he saw a slight confusion fill her face.

She smiled gently.  “I have one.”  She laughed a little at Kibum’s confused face.  “Your grandmother brought it back the last Christmas that she was with us.  It must have been a Christmas photo…Munhee is in it…she didn’t know I took it.” And she slid it from her purse and showed it to Kibum, letting him know that she always carried it with her. 

Kibum smiled fully, the first one she had been able to see grace his face in years.  “Oh she knew.” He said, smiling ruefully up at the memorial, “she probably left it for you to take intentionally.”

“Sounds like her…”

“I’ll…I’ll call you…” he said hesitantly, still not sure of their standing with each other.

“I’ll be waiting.” She said, before turning again and heading home.

Kibum walked down the hill once more and was pounced upon by his children. 

“Who was that lady?  Is she okay?” Munhee asked, muffled into Kibum’s pant leg as he hugged Kibum tight. 

And into Taemin’s eye’s Kibum stared as he answered his son.  “She helped my grandmother raise me.” He didn’t want to tell Munhee about a possible grandparent if she wasn’t going to stay in the picture, “and she is fine now.” 

“Good,” he announced, running back off to play with his sister.

“You okay?”  Taemin asked, stepping close and placing Kibum in a loose hug. 

“I don’t know…” Kibum said honestly, stepping in closer to the hug and laying his head against Taemin’s shoulder.  “Let’s talk about it later tonight, after the kids are asleep.”

“Alright,” Taemin mumbled, kissing the top of Kibum’s head gently. 

From a distance, Kibum’s mother watched.  Saw the two men in their casual embrace; saw their children happily playing not too far away.  She saw the wonderful family that she had allowed to be cut away from her for no good reason at all. 

But that would change.

She would make sure of it.

She would welcome all of them, as they were meant to be.

Together.

So there, it's back!