So, I'm finally posting this. It seems like I've been working on this for ages because I've been working on it solidly for nearly five days. It turned out a lot longer than I had planned, but that's writing for you. I did consider splitting it into chapters, but I couldn't find a good spot to split it and I feel like it flows better this way. So you will all just have to suffer through what I have taken to calling my monster of a fic.

This story is based on the book How The Grinch Stole Christmas! by Dr Suess. I have included several quotes from that story (none of which I own) and I have changed a few lines so that it suits the story better. Unfortunately I'm not a rhyming genius like Dr Suess, so I struggled a bit with that and spent many hours cursing whoever came up with the idea of rhyming. I think it turned out okay though. I would love to hear your thoughts on this as a lot of time and effort went into it. I was actually initially going to make this a crack fic and make it very shippy and Luckety, but then I decided that I wanted to go for a more serious tone and I started coming up with ideas for flashbacks and knew that this was the only way. There are a few Lucket hints if you want to see them and we get to see a bit of Skye, but this fic is predominantly about Lucas and Taylor.

Disclaimer: I don't own Terra Nova or How The Grinch Stole Christmas!.

Every Terra Novan
Down in Terra Nova
Liked Christmas a lot...

But the Grinch,
Who lived just North of Terra Nova,
Did NOT!

The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his head wasn't screwed on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

But,
Whatever the reason,
His heart or his shoes,
He stood there on Christmas eve, hating the ruse,
Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For he knew every Terra Novan down in Terra Nova beneath
Was now busy hanging a mistletoe wreath.

*#*#*#*

Lucas Taylor stood at the opening to the cave that he currently called home. He looked out over Terra Nova, feeling rage rising in his chest. He could see the Terra Novans going about their business preparing for Christmas which was to come the following day. Christmas - oh how he despised it. He would forever remember that Christmas.

Lucas felt his anger taking over, his pain shifting itself into rage. He couldn't stand to see the people down in Terra Nova so happy. Didn't they understand that Christmas only brought about pain? He could imagine his father down there preparing for the festivities, ready to celebrate with his precious colony. Lucas just wanted to make his father feel what he felt, so that he would be able to understand what he had done to his son. Lucas had to show Taylor what he had done to him on that Christmas Eve eleven years earlier.

*#*#*#*

"And they're hanging their stockings!" he snarled with a sneer
"Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!"
Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep Christmas from coming!"

*#*#*#*

Lucas knew that this was it. He could not let his father see another Christmas. Taylor had beaten him time and time again, but this year that was all going to change. Taylor would not be celebrating Christmas with his beloved colony this year. Tonight he would die.

There was a time when Lucas simply would have been content with his father's forgiveness or even just the knowledge that Taylor still cared for him. Then Lucas would have settled for seeing the look on his father's face when he beat him, and he very nearly achieved this, but then it still wasn't enough. The years of resentment, the constant looks of blame and regret that Taylor gave Lucas, the knowledge that no matter what he did he would never be good enough for his father, they all combined to build up into one giant ball of rage inside Lucas. It wasn't fair the way that Taylor treated his son. So Lucas knew there was only one option. Taylor had to be taken down for good.

The last time that Lucas had tried to destroy his father, he had very nearly succeeded, yet he had been stopped. He had failed. Taylor had beaten him once again. Lucas couldn't let that happen again. Christmas would not come for Taylor that year. Lucas would beat his father this time.

*#*#*#*

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE GRINCH
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" The Grinch laughed in his throat.
And he made a quick plan to find his father who he would then smote.
And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Grinchy trick!
With this plan, my father will be defeated quick!"

*#*#*#*

The plan seemed to create itself inside Lucas' head. It was brilliant. Lucas knew that this was it, the plan to finish it all. He would travel to Terra Nova and sneak in under the cover of night. He would make his way to his father's housing unit, and then he would get to see the look on the old man's face when he beat him. Victory was close, but Lucas wasn't getting ahead of himself this time. He still had to get into the colony and take down his father.

*#*#*#*

Then the Grinch said "Get me my rover!"
And he started down
Toward the homes where the people of Terra Nova
Lay a-snooze in their town.

All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.
All the Terra Novans were all dreaming sweet dreams without care.
When he came to the first house in the square,
"This is stop number one," the old Grinchy Claus hissed
And he walked to the door, his knife in his fist.

Then he picked the lock. A rather tight pinch.
But if Taylor could do it, then so could the Grinch.
He got stuck once, for a moment or two.
Then he snuck in through the door without further ado
And silently made his way through the house at a pace which was slow.
"My father," he grinned, "will be the first to go!"

*#*#*#*

It literally sickened Lucas to be in his father's home. He spotted a photo of his mother sitting up on the mantelpiece and felt a lump forming in his throat. He knew that his father must see that photo every day and feel his anger for his son grow. He knew that his father blamed him. He noted that there were no photos of him to be seen. It was as if he had never existed. Taylor probably would have preferred it that way. There would have been no choice and no lifetime of regret. Things would have been much simpler if Lucas had never been born; it was so obvious to him that his father thought this way. Lucas felt his anger welling up inside him as he thought of the way his father had treated him for all these years.

Lucas looked back at the photo, feeling his guilt resurfacing. He had lost his last photo of his mother long ago. He had kept it in his lab and it had been lost with his calculations, turned to ashes as Taylor burnt his son's work. All Lucas had had for the past five years were his memories, and even those were fading. He tried desperately to hold on to them with all his might, yet he knew that ultimately time would take this last spec of his mother from him.

Seeing her now was a shock to Lucas. She smiled back at him. Everything had been so much easier when she was alive. Lucas thought of the way they had tortured her, of the way he had been powerless to help her and the way his father had refused. He felt his anger growing and turned the brunt of it to a nearby table, sweeping everything off it, hearing a satisfying noise as a mess of possessions fell to the ground, broken and abandoned – just like Lucas.

*#*#*#*

The Grinch picked up the photo, and remembered his mother's love
When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.
He turned around fast, and he saw a small Terra Novan!
Little Skye Tate, who was watching him break in.

The Grinch had been caught by this little Terra Novan daughter
Who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.
She stared at the Grinch and said, "Lucas, why?
Why are you breaking into your father's house?
WHY?"

*#*#*#*

"Bucket," Lucas gasped as he spun around to see her standing there. "What are you doing here?"

"My house was destroyed, and so Taylor invited me to stay here," replied Skye cautiously. She deliberately avoided mentioning that she was sure that the main reason Taylor had invited her into his house was to keep an eye on her after she had spied on the colony.

A look of confusion passed over Lucas' face at this revelation, an expression that he was not used to showing. Why would his father invite Skye into his home after all she had done? He had been so determined to push his son away after Somalia. Was simply being born worse than betrayal?

"What are you doing here?" Skye asked, bringing Lucas back from his musings. Her previous fear around him seemed to have disappeared. She had done worse to him than he had done to her; he had the wounds on his chest to prove it. He had lost and Terra Nova had won, and now he was back here alone.

Lucas turned to give Skye a knowing look, "You know why I'm here, Bucket."

She did. There wasn't a soul in Terra Nova who didn't know of Lucas' feud with his father. They had had various degrees of understand, some knew more than others, but they all knew that Taylor and his son were at the heart of this.

"He isn't here," Skye spoke up as she watched Lucas glance around, obviously searching for his father. This seemed to catch Lucas' attention, causing him to turn back to Skye.

"He's out on night patrol," she furthered, not quite sure why she was volunteering this information, but doing it all the same. Lucas' forehead creased in concentration as he made amendments to his plan. He wasn't going to let this stop him.

"I'm sorry," Skye announced once Lucas didn't answer. Her guilt was still eating at her. Lucas looked back up her, his face softening at her words.

"For shooting you," she clarified. "I didn't want to hurt you." Lucas' hand instinctively went to his bullet wounds as a look of pain crossed his face. His tough facade was starting to crack as his hurt leaked through.

"I thought you would understand," Lucas confessed, revealing why he had developed such an interest in her. Lucas had recognised certain similarities between himself and Skye. He was so sure that Taylor would push Skye away after finding out she was the spy, and perhaps Lucas had even encouraged further betrayal to ensure this. He was convinced that she would then see Taylor for what he really was and begin to understand Lucas' life. Yet it appeared that Taylor reserved his blame for his son.

"I don't understand," Skye responded, feeling her guilt mixing with her caring side. Lucas' face fell. It was as he had suspected, there was no one in this world, or the last one, who understood what he was going through.

"No one does," he sighed, finally accepting that he was well and truly alone in his pain.

Skye was struck by the intensity of his anguish. She could see how hurt he was, almost to the point that she could feel it herself. He just looked so broken. Skye couldn't help her desire to help him. He didn't look like the monster who had taken over her home. He just looked lost. His plan was failing and he was beginning to realise that he might never succeed and he may spend the rest of his life in this state of pain.

"Help me understand," Skye said as she sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to her, indicating that Lucas should join her.

Lucas hesitated for a moment. This wasn't part of the plan, yet he couldn't deny that the potential of having someone understand his story was appealing. So, once again, he found himself deviating from his plan for Skye. He made his way around the couch and gingerly sat next to her, taking a deep breath to ready himself before beginning.

"It started in 2138, August."

Skye had heard this part before, yet this time Lucas didn't stop there. He continued on, sharing the story of his time in Somalia.

*#*#*#*

August 2138

Lucas was roughly pushed into a line next to his mother along with the other civilians. He felt a gun being pushed to the back of his head. A quick glance to the left told him that they were doing the same to his mother. There was a loud bang followed by the sound of screams as one of the civilians was shot. That would be Lucas or his mother soon if Taylor didn't save them.

Then Lucas saw him, his father, striding towards them. Lucas felt relief swell through him at this sight. His father would save them. But his relief turned to confusion as Taylor stepped in front of them, his expression grave, and made no move to save them. Lucas observed that his father carried no weapons, and suddenly it made sense. He must have been stripped of them. Taylor wasn't there to save them. He was just as much a prisoner as Lucas and his mother were.

"Have you made your decision yet?" one of the men flanking Taylor asked him. Taylor looked at Ayani then looked at his son before looking back at his wife with an apologetic and sorrowful look on his face.

"I'm sorry," Taylor spoke as he met the eyes of his wife. He was sorry that he couldn't save her and sorry that it had come to this. Ayani nodded as silent tears began to leak from her eyes.

"Save him," she told her husband, her last request. Taylor nodded in reply as Lucas caught on to what they were saying. He realised that his hands were shaking from fear, anxious about what was to come.

"No!" he protested as he tried to pull against the men who held him. But he couldn't escape their grip, they were too strong. Lucas felt the gun being pushed into the back of his skull and ceased his struggling, his heart racing. He began to murmur his protests, knowing that another outburst was not sensible, hoping that his father might head his pleading.

"I choose to save my son," Taylor announced, deliberately avoiding his son's eyes.

"No, no, no," Lucas murmured as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn't believe that his father was sentencing his mother to death. Ayani turned to Lucas, hoping to soothe him in her last moments.

"I love you," she whispered, trying to stop her tears from falling.

"No!" Lucas repeated. He would not let her say good bye. This was not the end. He refused to accept it. He turned back to his father, hoping to convince him to change his mind. But Taylor was stubbornly looking straight ahead, his face unreadable. He was determined to look anywhere apart from at Lucas.

Then it began. Lucas could almost feel it himself when the first knife was thrust into his mother. They didn't kill her straight away, no, that would have been much too merciful. Instead they took their time, having a little fun and playing with their victim. They were total sadists, taking pleasure in watching Ayani writhe in pain.

Lucas wanted nothing more than to stop this scene that was occurring in front of him, but he was powerless. He tried to avert his eyes, to shut them, or at least turn away from the terrible things that were happening metres away from him, yet Lucas' body disobeyed him, forcing him to watch with wide eyes as all sorts of horrifying things were done to his mother.

The tears were coming fast now from both Lucas and Ayani. Only Taylor remained dry eyed. Lucas and Ayani were both screaming, Lucas screaming at them to stop and Ayani screaming at them to end it. They were two seemingly synonymous things, yet they carried two very different meanings. While Ayani had accepted that her end was coming, Lucas held onto a childish and naive hope that his mother could still be saved.

Taylor remained silent and stony faced as he watched these men torture his wife. It was like she was already dead to him judging by his lack of emotion. He didn't even flinch as a knife was held to her throat, breaking the skin, causing blood to trickle down onto the dusty ground. Lucas continued to yell and cry until he could cry no more, yet the torture went on. He felt his legs give out and slumped into the arms of the soldier who was holding him. He was powerless to do anything but watch as his mother's life began to slip away.

As the men subjected Ayani's body to every sort of torture imaginable, Lucas could see the changes in her body language. She had long since stopped her fighting and now lay there with silent tears falling down her face. Her body was exhausted and she now just took the pain as it came, waiting for the end to come. The fight had disappeared from her eyes and she accepted that death was near. It broke Lucas' heart to see her just give up. It wasn't a sight that he had ever expected to see. How could she just give up on life when he still had hopes that she could be saved?

Finally the soldiers decided that they had done enough and that Ayani was as good as dead. They released Lucas, letting his body drop to the ground, and walked away, off to their next victim. Lucas tried to crawl over to his mother, trying to help her as she took her last laboured breaths, yet he was stopped as Taylor pulled him to his feet and tried to drag him away.

"Let me go!" Lucas shouted as he struggled in his father's iron grip, yet Taylor would not release him. He was determined to keep him trapped.

Together they stood and watched as the last breaths left Ayani's body. Taylor tried to turn his son's head away, but Lucas would not let his eyes leave his mother. It was only moments, yet it seemed to drag on. Lucas desperately wished to go and help his mother, yet his father was too strong.

With her last ounce of energy, Ayani moved her eyes to look at her family. Then her body fell still, never to move again. Taylor finally gave in to his struggling son and released him. Lucas immediately ran to his mother, kneeling down next to her and reaching for her hand. But it was too late. She was dead.

*#*#*#*

Skye found tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she listened to his sad tale. She felt as though she understood him better now. She knew the pain of losing a parent, but she still couldn't understand what had lead Lucas to destroy his father. Almost as if he had read her mind, Lucas continued.

"But that wasn't the end of it," he spoke, his eyes brimming with tears as he spoke of his past. "From that day on he blamed me. I suspected it for a while, he never looked at me the same after he was forced to choose me, but it wasn't until Christmas Eve that I knew for sure."

*#*#*#*

Christmas Eve 2138

Lucas stood in the kitchen preparing hot chocolate, the real sort that was always saved for Christmas Eve. The kitchen felt lonely with just Lucas in there. This was an activity he usually participated in with his mother, yet it wasn't to be this year. Ayani was dead and in the ground and Lucas was left to carry on this tradition alone.

Lucas reached into the cupboard, pulling out three mugs before realising his mistake. Things just weren't the same this year. He reluctantly placed one of the mugs back in the cupboard before continuing to make the drink. Soon it was ready, with three marshmallows in it, just how they always had it. Such a treat was rare in this day and age, but it was their Christmas Eve tradition.

Picking up the two steaming hot mugs, Lucas made his way into the study where his father had disappeared several hours earlier. He gingerly knocked on the door before hesitantly pushing it open and walking inside. As he entered the room, he took in the sight of his father's dishevelled appearance and the half empty bottle of scotch that sat next to him.

"Dad," Lucas said softly, watching as his father's head snapped up to look at him. An empty glass was held loosely in his hand as he narrowed his eyes at his son in displeasure.

"What do you want?" he spat, his words slightly slurred.

"I brought you some hot chocolate," Lucas replied almost timidly. "It's our tradition." These last words were hardly necessary, yet Lucas said them all the same, hoping that his father might look at him the way he used to just once.

Taylor scrutinised Lucas for a moment before accepting the mug from his outstretched hand. He looked over it, almost as if he was judging it, before he placed it on the desk without a word. Lucas sat down in one of the large comfortable arm chairs, watching as his father picked up his knife and began to sharpen it. He waited anxiously, hoping that his father would turn around and face him again.

"It's going to get cold," Lucas spoke up after a moment or two had passed, referring to the untouched beverage that sat on his father's desk. Lucas refused to drink his until his father did. This was a tradition they shared, and not one he was eager to continue alone.

Taylor slowly looked up at Lucas, a scowl on his face, before he placed his knife on the table and reached for the mug. Lucas held his drink in his hand, still untouched, waiting for his father's reaction. It seemed to take an eternity for Taylor to bring the mug to his lips, but when he did his reaction was less than favourable.

"It's bitter," he announced, turning his hardened stare to Lucas.

Lucas took an anxious sip of his drink in response. It was bitter. But what was most bitter about the whole thing wasn't the taste of the beverage, it was the disappointed and judgmental look that he could see in his father's eyes.

Lucas placed the mug back down on the table, his appetite suddenly gone. He could feel this Christmas Eve tradition ending. The death of his mother had brought about so many other endings. But for each sad ending there was no new happy beginning, just sorrowful and painful endings.

A lump began to form in Lucas' throat as he tried to hold back his tears. He knew that he couldn't cry around his father anymore, Taylor only saw it as a sign of weakness, and the great Commander Taylor's son could not be seen to show weakness, Taylor would not hear of it.

"She was beautiful your mother," Taylor spoke as he picked up a framed photo of Ayani from his desk. Lucas nodded, even though his father could not see him, not trusting himself to speak.

"This was taken in 2123," he continued, "one of the happiest years of my life. Before everything fell to pieces." It hurt Lucas to hear his father speak this way, 2123 was the year before Lucas was born, not that Taylor mentioned that, he didn't need to. Lucas understood what his father was implying. He was the one who was responsible for everything being ruined.

"Beautiful," Taylor repeated as he gazed at the photo. "And look what they did to her."

"Dad," Lucas pleaded. In that moment, he needed his father. What he didn't need was a replay of the torture and subsequent killing of his mother. Something about Lucas' voice seemed to strike something in Taylor. He spun around to glare at his son.

"What do you want?" he asked slowly, his words filled with a malice that Lucas had never experienced before. Lucas knew that his father was hurting, he was hurting too, but Lucas needed his daddy.

"Dad," Lucas began softly and cautiously, trying to keep his tears at bay. "I miss her. I miss her too." This seemed to be the wrong thing to say as Taylor stood and slowly walked over to Lucas.

Lucas found himself shrinking back in his chair as Taylor approached, genuinely scared of his father for the first time in his life. Taylor said nothing as he stared down at his son, but he didn't need to. His eyes said everything, they told the whole story. It was like all of Taylor's feelings towards his son were laid out on display. The disappointment, the blame, the regret, they were all there to see. But they weren't just there to be seen, Lucas could feel them.

Lucas could feel his father's anger seeping into his skin. He could feel the resentment swirling around him. But, most of all, Lucas could feel his father's regret. He could feel the blame. It should have been Lucas that died that day; it was obvious his father felt this way. Taylor regretted saving his son, Lucas just knew it. If Lucas had never been born, then Taylor could have saved his wife.

Tear began to fill Lucas' eyes as he tried to escape his father's gaze. He had to get away from him. He couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, trying to leave, only to be stopped as Taylor placed his hand on the wall behind him, blocking his way. Lucas swallowed as he looked up at his father fearfully. The first of the tears escaped and began to slide down his cheek. He had lost.

Lucas hated that he was being weak in front of his father, but the knowledge that Taylor blamed Lucas, as Lucas himself had taken to doing in moments of weakness, was more than he could bear. Right then Lucas needed his father more than anything else. He needed to know that Taylor still cared for him, but it was obvious from his eyes that that would not happen.

"Dad," Lucas whimpered, hoping and wishing that things could be different. But once again it seemed as though Lucas' desperate pleading was not enough to win him over. If it was even possible, Taylor gave Lucas a look that was filled with even more contempt and blame.

"Get out of my sight," Taylor ordered, removing his arm to let Lucas leave before turning back to his desk and returning to his bottle of scotch.

Lucas took this opportunity to leave, fleeing the room as fast as he could. He didn't know where he could go; all he knew was that he couldn't stay there. Stopping only to grab his coat and rebreather, he escaped through the front door out into the cold winter's evening. He was in for a long and lonely night.

*#*#*#*

"Where did you go?" Skye asked, feeling her compassion for Lucas grow. His story was just so sad.

"I spent the night on the streets," Lucas answered.

Skye felt her heart aching at the thought of fourteen year old Lucas alone on the streets in the cold on Christmas Eve. She was beginning to understand why Lucas had such a strained relationship with his father. She didn't think what he had done was alright, but she was beginning to see that things weren't as black and white as she had originally thought. She was starting to see that Taylor wasn't the saint that everyone seemed to think he was.

Silence fell upon them as Skye took in what she had just heard and Lucas thought over his past. Then Lucas spoke again.

"The next day I went back home."

*#*#*#*

Christmas Day 2138

Lucas returned home the following afternoon, tired, cold and lonely. The night had been long and brought with it freezing temperatures. Even though Lucas had been sheltered from the snow, the cold had still reached him. He was sure that he had experienced the beginnings of hypothermia during the previous night. He had read that a symptom of hypothermia was when one began to feel warm, and he was sure that he had felt the icy cold melting into warmth as he sat through in the freezing night.

He silently slipped into the house, his teeth chattering and his fingers numb. He hoped to sneak inside and avoid his father before coming up with a plan of what to do next. He couldn't stay here. He didn't think he could stand to see that look in his father's eyes every day. He carefully shut the front door behind him before turning to sneak into his room, only to be stopped by a figure in his path.

"And what do you think you're doing?" the figure asked. Lucas slowly glanced up to meet his father's gaze. Though Taylor was now sober, that look in his eyes remained. Lucas tried to slip past him, knowing that he only had to hold in his emotions until he made it to his room. But Taylor wasn't going to let him go that easily. He reached out to grab Lucas' arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Where were you last night?" he asked, his voice stern. Lucas remained silent, knowing that it was for the best.

"Answer me, Boy," Taylor yelled, not satisfied with his son's lack of an answer. Taylor was sure that he was being deliberately insolent, rebelling against him in this emotional time just to spite him.

Lucas ripped his arm out of his father's grip, feeling bruises forming where he had held him just a little too tightly. He had no desire to have a repeat of the looks he had received the previous night. Ignoring his father's commands that he should return and talk to him, Lucas ran to his bedroom and blocked the door, standing with his back to it as he waited for his heart rate to return to normal. One thing was for certain, things would never be the same between Lucas and his father ever again.

*#*#*#*

"What did you do after that?" Skye asked, captivated by his story and eager to find out what happened. There was a part of her that hoped there would be a happy ending, but the rational side of her brain knew that that would not happen.

"A month later I got accepted into university and then I left in the spring," he responded, sounding almost distant as he recalled his past. "I didn't return home for a year. Then my father started insisting on monthly visits, as if blaming me from afar wasn't enough and he had to see my reaction."

Skye could see that Lucas was starting to get worked up from reminiscing about the past, his voice rising and anger began to entwine with his words. She reached out to squeeze his hand, holding it in hers to let him know she was there. Initially, Lucas tensed at the contact, yet he relaxed once he realised that this was Skye's way of showing sympathy.

"I really am sorry," Skye said, repeating her earlier words. Even though she would do the same if she could relive the events of the occupation, she felt guilty about causing Lucas even more pain. Her betrayal must have hurt him.

"I know," Lucas replied quietly. "I'm sorry too." Apologising to Skye for his actions was easier than Lucas had thought. He had expected to hate her for her betrayal and plot revenge on her, yet now that she understood he felt his anger towards her fading. It was amazing the effects that one person showing they understood could have on him. He felt a new sense of calm at this knowledge, like maybe he wasn't so alone in this world.

"I should go," Lucas announced after a moment's silence. This was not part of his plan and Christmas was fast approaching. While he had no desire to leave the comfort of this couch, he knew that he had to act soon.

"Where are you going to go?" Skye asked as Lucas stood up to leave. She wasn't just asking where he was going; she was also asking what he was going to do. If he was going to seek out his father, then she would stop him. Lucas paused for a moment, taking the time to think over his answer.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. He really didn't know, he had gone there to end his father's life, but now he felt that rage calming. Truthfully he had no idea what he was going to do. His anger had always given him direction in his toughest times, it kept him going and showed him a way forward, yet now he felt himself faltering in his calm, lost without his rage to guide him.

"Stay," Skye requested softly. "Don't go."

Lucas had to admit that the idea was appealing. He had no desire to spend yet another cold and lonely Christmas Eve in the snow. He knew that he couldn't get caught in Terra Nova or the consequences would be dire, yet there was something inside him that was telling him to stay.

"Okay," he relented as he went to sit back down. A small smile appeared on Skye's face, mirrored on Lucas' as he came to the realisation that Skye seemed to be genuinely enjoying his presence.

The company was what Lucas enjoyed the most, and the realisation that he had finally found someone who was starting to understand him. Skye was beginning to see how he saw his father, she was learning the truth. Hearing Lucas' story had led Skye to relax around him. A soft sigh left her lips as she let herself gently rest her head against his shoulder, trying to stay awake.

Lucas could hear the soft sound of her breathing as she slipped into a deep sleep. Lucas felt his eyes grow weary, his body exhausted after a long day of surviving the jungle. He let his head rest on top of Skye's, feeling that he was able to properly relax for the first time in a very long time. He didn't mean to fall asleep, yet as the night continued on, he found himself losing the battle with his eyes and falling into a dreamless sleep.

*#*#*#*

It was a quarter past dawn...
All the Terra Novans, still a-bed
All the Terra Novans, still a-snooze
When Taylor returned home to see his son who he had been sure was dead.

*#*#*#*

Taylor slowly walked around the couch, careful not to wake the sleeping pair, hardly believing his eyes. There was his son sleeping on his couch. This was the last sight he had expected to see.

Lucas looked so peaceful in sleep, so innocent. Taylor felt as though he was looking at a younger version of his son from back before their lives had been torn to pieces. There was a childish innocence about Lucas as he slept. He was free from all his troubles. Everything seemed so much simpler in sleep. Lucas looked harmless as he slept. Taylor found himself struggling to believe that this boy, his son, was responsible for all the terrible deeds he had done. Pain shot through his stomach wound, almost as if to remind him of what Lucas had done not so long ago, yet it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart.

As Taylor watched his son sleep, he looked at him, really looking at him for the first time since that fateful day in Somalia. While he looked peaceful at first glance, Taylor began to detect subtle hints of other emotions. He could see a sense of loss, he saw it every day in the mirror, and now he saw it reflected on his son's face. He could see that Lucas was lost, even in sleep, he didn't know how to go on. But above all he could see that his son was broken. Lucas bore the look of someone who had fought and lost many times. His life was one big losing streak. Lucas had fallen and gotten back up many times, yet each time was more difficult than the last. It was only a matter of time before the final fall when Lucas wouldn't get back up.

Taylor began to think about what Lucas had said to him the last time they had met. Lucas had begged for forgiveness, pleaded with him and apologised repeatedly. 'It's not my fault she died,' he had said. Those words would forever haunt Taylor. That was the moment that he had begun to realise that perhaps Lucas' feelings about Somalia were a little more complicated than he had thought.

There was a reason that Taylor had been so quick to believe his son and hug him back that day. Taylor knew his son, and he knew when he was lying. He had always been able to tell. When Lucas was a little boy and had lied about sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack, Taylor knew, and not just by the crumbs that Lucas was covered in. When Lucas had grown older and feigned sleep in the middle of the night when Taylor checked on him, pretending that he hadn't been awake reading, Taylor knew. When Lucas had gone off to meet with strange people –who Taylor now knew to be his employers – instead of going out with his friends like he said, Taylor knew. If only he had known sooner.

As time passed, the distance between them grew, yet Taylor still knew his son, or so he thought. When Lucas came to Terra Nova and began working on making the portal go both ways, Taylor didn't initially catch on, but he knew. He found out eventually. Even though he was losing his son, he was still the same boy deep below all the anger.

Taylor had believed his son so quickly that day because he knew that Lucas meant those words. He hadn't been quick enough to realise that these feelings were accompanied by anger and a desire for revenge, but he knew when he felt the knife entering his stomach. Yet somewhere deep inside Lucas there was a broken little boy who needed his father.. Taylor hadn't seen this pained and vulnerable side of Lucas for a long time, and admittedly had believed it was lost, but it was still there. The pain lived on.

Taylor found himself remembering a Christmas Eve tradition he had given up long ago, hot chocolate with his wife and son. He quietly rose and walked to the kitchen, hunting for what he was sure was there. Being the commander had its advantages, and soon Taylor found what he was looking for.

A few minutes later, Taylor returned to the couch with two mugs of hot chocolate, three marshmallows in each. He softly placed them down on the table, noting that the noise had made Lucas begin to stir, before he sat down across from his son.

Lucas awoke disoriented, feeling as though something had changed. The first thing he noticed was the cup of hot chocolate sitting in front of him. He looked up to meet his father's eyes, feeling panic running through him. He shouldn't have let his guard down, now he was at his father's mercy. Before Lucas could react, Taylor spoke, pouring as much honesty into his words as he could. Lucas needed to hear this, and not just hear it, he had to know that these words were true.

"I don't blame you," Taylor said truthfully, looking into his son's eyes. "It's not your fault your mother died."

Lucas swallowed, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. It was an emotional night. As much as he wanted to believe that his father was lying and hold onto his anger, he found that he believed him. These were the words that Lucas had been waiting over a decade to hear. He found them strangely satisfying, yet they still weren't enough. The time for a simple admission of the truth had long since passed. There was much more that needed to be said now.

The sound of voices had caused Skye to awaken. She looked over at the two men, noting their almost tearful and somber expressions. She could see that something was happening between them to fix their broken relationship. It was clear that neither of them was about to kill the other. There seemed to almost be a new sense of understanding between them, much like what Skye had achieved with Lucas that very night. Not wanting to interrupt, Skye stood, nodding a quick good night as they looked at her before disappearing back to bed.

Taylor turned back to his son, knowing that this was something he should have done many years ago. He just hoped it wasn't too late, it very nearly was, yet perhaps there was still a tiny chance that they could salvage some of their former relationship.

"We need to talk," Taylor said solemnly. Lucas paused for a moment, both of them half expecting his anger to take over, before he nodded. There was a sense of maturity in Lucas that had not previously been there. He seemed to understand that this was not the time for revenge, it was a time for understanding and for amends to be made.

"Dad?" Lucas murmured, his voice small and meek. He knew how to deal with anger when it came to his father, yet he had no idea where to begin now. How was he supposed to tell his father about all the pain and anguish he had caused him over the years? He was turning to his father for help, for guidance, something he hadn't done in many years. It was something he had taught himself not to do.

"Start at the beginning," Taylor suggested. "Tell me your story."

And so Lucas found himself sharing his story for the second time that night. There were tears and moments of anger, neither of them unaffected by the sad tale. Taylor found himself learning more about his son than he had ever thought possible, hearing about the horrors and anguish that Lucas had faced all because of that tragic day in Somalia when Taylor had failed his family. As the two men talked, they found themselves realising that neither of them had previously had the full picture. Stories were shared and understandings were gained. By the end, not a single eye was dry.

Taylor stood up, walking over to Lucas and extending his hand in a gesture of peace. Lucas placed his empty mug back on the table before standing and taking his father's hand. The two men's eyes met as they gripped the other's hand, both feeling the effects of over a decade of tension and feelings, yet things were changing. Taylor extended his other arm to pull Lucas into a hug. Lucas had to know that he was still his son. He broke their grip, wrapping his other arm around his son as well.

Lucas stood there in shock for a moment, remembering how this situation had ended last time. He could feel the blade of his knife pushing against his thigh from where it sat in his belt. It would be so easy to finish his father off, he could do it this time. Skye was asleep and wouldn't be able to stop him now. Yet he found that he didn't really want to. The tiny part of him that had regretted stabbing his father was now more dominant. The desire to kill him was gone.

Taylor glanced over his son's shoulder out the window at the rising sun. Christmas was well and truly here. He had expected to spend another Christmas alone, remembering the good times he used to spend with his family, yet his son had returned and the prospect of Christmas wasn't so bleak now.

"Merry Christmas, Son," Taylor said as he held his son close.

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Lucas replied quietly, holding his father equally as tight. He had found what he had unknowingly been searching for all those years: acceptance, understanding and love.

*#*#*#*

And what happened then...?
Well...in Terra Nova they say
That the Grinch's small heart
Grew three sizes that day
And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight
He made peace with his father and gave up his fight.

*#*#*#*

The End

*#*#*#*