Hi everyone. I'm going for another one-shot here. This one focuses on Elizabeth and Patrick. Again, it is a bit dark and is a touchy subject. I'm not sure why, but at the moment I seem to have a thing for writing short one-shots about a darker side of life in Stoneybrook. I hope I've remembered the ages correctly – please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

I will be continuing with my other fics – just at the moment, I'm finding it easier to write these and I don't want to give you a half-hearted attempt at continuing my others. I'll do it when I'm ready.

All original characters copyrighted to AMM.

'The Child of His Father.'

Charlie is off to college this fall. He's 17. Growing up. I'm proud of him. Really, I am. It hasn't been easy for him. His dad walking out when all the kids were so young. He had to take on all the responsibility. I delegated him the 'man of the house.' I blamed him when Kristy, Sam and David Michael used to misbehave. It wasn't his fault. They were just kids. But it was easier to blame him. I was a single mom on my own. Really, if I was going to blame anyone, it should have been Patrick.

But, I blamed Charlie.

So, ashamed as I am to admit it, I'm relieved he's going off to college. I do love him. I'm proud of him. But he looks so much like his father. I'll be relieved when I don't have to be reminded of him, of it, all the time.

I love Watson Brewer. He's a wonderful husband. I loathe Patrick. The day he walked out was the best day of my life. But, I don't want to be reminded of him. Not after what he did.

I was 19. In college. I had a steady boyfriend, Patrick. Deep dimples, twinkling eyes, floppy hair. A smile that could always bring me out of my bad moods. He was great fun and we had some great times. We spent more nights together than apart. I'd had a few flings prior to Patrick, but he was my first serious lover.

He used to drink too much at parties though. He was different then. Violent, almost. He would scream, shout, wave his arms around. Terrifying. He never actually hurt me. Just scared me.

Then one night, everything changed.

He came to my dorm. Knocked at the door. I let him in, told him to keep the noise down. He calmed down for a moment. Took me in his arms, stroking his hands up and down my body. I shyed away. I didn't like him when he was like this.

He turned then. The look on his face like nothing I'd seen before. He grabbed hold of my arms and I jumped and tried to push him.

"Eddie," he hissed. Eddie being his 'pet name' for me.

He forced me down on the bed. We always used protection. Not this time. I struggled beneath him, crying and trying to yell out.

"I'm doing this because I love you."

He collapsed on top of me.

I was shaking.

I was shocked.

My boyfriend had raped me.

And that was how Charlie, my first born was conceived.

I'd wanted an abortion. Yet, I agreed to give Patrick a chance. I said I'd forgiven him for that night.

But I never forgot it.

We married. I pushed Charlie into the world, Patrick holding my hand.

He got a good job as a reporter for the local paper.

A young couple we may have been, but we looked respectable. If only they knew.

Patrick never touched another drop of alcohol again. I think he was ashamed. Sorry for what he did. We had more kids. But, our relationship was strained, existed mostly on formalities. We went through the motions. Patrick knew that I'd never forgotten what happened.

And poor Charlie. I loved him, but never bonded with him the way I had the others. I kept thinking 'Your father is a rapist.'

It was the best moment of my life when Patrick walked out. Sure, it was tough financially. But, I knew it was right.

He left me a note.

"Edie – I am so sorry."

That was it. He wasn't just referring to walking out. He was apologising for what had happened before.

And now I was free.

I hope Charlie doesn't turn out like his father.