Disclaimer: The characters of the Stephanie Plum Series belong to Janet Evanovich. “Let It Be” was written by John Lennon and Paul McCarthy. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: 1) Apparently I can only write songfic when in a particularly maudlin mood. This is, in fact, the first songfic I've ever written. 2) This is all from Tank's POV
WARNING: potential Tissue Warning.
Rating: Suitable for all ages
Feedback: Email TT at: ttsmiscellany@yahoo.com

Let It Be
By TT

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

I lost most of my family when I was ten years old. All but my drunken, abusive father.

It was not wonder I escaped to the army.

I met my best friends there, my chosen family. But the rage that lived in me wouldn't go away.

When word came that my father died, I lost it for a while.

On compassionate leave, I headed down to see him buried. Mrs. Manoso, or Mama Maria as she told us to call her was there already. I don't know how she knew, but I was glad she was there.

As I stepped into the house where I had grown and lived an lost so much, I could feel the rage building, the anger of so many years rising to the surface. And I wanted to feed it.

Mama Maria took me in her arms and told me to “Let it go. Let the anger go and keep the love and memories. Let them be what sustains you, what you carry with you. Leave the anger, son. Let it be.”

And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

I stood at the side of the grave, knowing we were lowering an empty coffin into the ground. It was empty because a good man, a man closer to me than a brother had given his life so we might live.

All his wife and children would have to remember him by was a wedding ring and a flag.

All I would have was the unending echo of his dying screams as we left him behind. The alcohol that I was using each night to try and drown out those screams wasn't working all that well.

I now dealt with death regularly, but the anger I had felt when the last of my family died was replaced by rage at this senseless loss.

If the information had been as valid as they said, he would be home now.

The rage began to wash over me and I could feel my control slipping. Mama Maria walked up next to me and took my arm.

“Let it go,” she said softly. “He wouldn't want you to carry this. He gave his life so you could find the joy he had. You need to stop drinking and start living. Leave the anger here, son. Let it be.”

And when the broken hearted people
Living in the world agree,
There will be an answer, let it be.

Eight months ago, the impossible had happened. I met someone and fell in love. All the nightmares I'd gone through, the horror and I'd found something so pure, so good in her.

Before I left on my last mission, she told me she was pregnant.

When I returned, I went straight to her.

She was there with Mama Maria. The baby had been lost.

I felt my heart break and my joy crumble to dust.

For the first time since I was a child, I cried. Tears ran down my face and I could only ask, “Why?”

Mama Maria took me in her arms and comforted me. Held me while my heart broke and I sobbed. “Shh, son,” she whispered.

“Why did this happen? Why us?” I asked, my voice harsh as my tears mingled with those of my love as I held her.

“Maybe in time there will be an answer,” Mama Maria told me. “For now, accept the pain and grief. Take the time to mourn. When the time is right, you can let it be.”

For though they may be parted there is
Still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be. Yeah
There will be an answer, let it be.

I sat in the church, unable to feel anything.

One of my brothers was married today.

I stood up for him.

But she left me. After all we'd been through, she simply said she needed a break and left the church. Left my life.

I thought we'd been doing so well. What could have happened?

The door to the sanctuary opened behind me and a portion of my mind registered the light footsteps headed toward me.

A few minutes later Mama Maria settle next to me in the pew and put her hand on my arm.

Looking at her, I admitted, “I don't understand.”

She rubbed my arm and patted it. “We don't always know what the other person is thinking in any relationship. Right now there's little you can do but be patient and wait for her.”

“I should track her down,” I said, needing to do something. “Find her. Make her talk to me.”

“No, son,” she said. “Give her the time. Let it be.”

And when the night is cloudy,
There is still a light that shines on me,
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be.

My life was a mess. The last mission had been a disaster. I knew I wouldn't pass my next psych evaluation and coming home to find out she'd left me for good was the final straw.

Now I was out of the army. I had no job experience, no plans, no thoughts of the future, no goals, no direction. It was one of my darkest days.

Then there was a knock on my door.

Opening it, I was surprised to see Mama Maria standing on my threshold. She stepped in, an air of determination about her.

She sat me down at the kitchen table and spent time talking and listening to me.

It was the first time in a long time I'd felt the oppressing uncertainty lift.

By the time she left, I had goals, purpose and dreams.

I was about to start a new life. I was ready to follow her advice. I would leave behind my disappointment, my doubts, my old life. I would leave there here and move into the future. I would let it be.

I wake up to the sound of music
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

I was shaken out of my stupor by the sound of the organ playing.

A part of me still refused to believe what was before my own eyes.

Today, another of my brothers would be buried.

Unlike the last, he was lost due to a drunk driving accident. Some person ran a red light and hit his car right at the driver's side door.

As the coffin rolled past me followed by his weeping widow and children, I felt rage at the drunk driver flood my system. Resolve came to me. I would hunt him down and make him suffer.

With my eyes fixed on the coffin, I didn't notice her approach until she was standing in front of me, willing my eyes to meet hers.

“He is in jail,” she whispered as the other mourners moved around us. “Your anger and revenge will do nothing but hurt you. Let it be, son. Let it be.”

Let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be,
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Standing at her graveside, I was well aware of my own broken heart, of the horrible wound in my soul that I wasn't sure would heal this time.

Beside me, Carlos raged until I saw Stephanie move to stand next to him, putting her hand on his arm and whispering softly to him as she slowly drew him into an embrace.

Unaware of the tears streaming down my face, I felt a hand on my arm and looked down to see Lula looking up at me.

“Why her?” I choked out.

Lula wrapped me in her arms. “It's OK, Baby,” she said, her own voice thick with emotion. “You're allowed to feel, allowed to grieve. It's part of the whole cycle of life, Baby. Let it be. Eventually you'll heal, but for now, let it out, take the time to grieve, take the time to mourn, take the time to remember her, then leave the pain behind and let it be.”

End