Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.

A/N: This came to me while listening to the new Hawk Nelson CD. (I LOVE JASON DUNN!) It's a songfic to "Everything You Ever Wanted." Troy is a meanie in this one. And so is his son.

Can't promise you'll like it, it's different from anything I've done. Give it a chance, though.

Enjoy!

"I walk the line,

Leave it all behind

I've been waiting forever."

Gabriella Montez-Bolton looked at the sixteen-year-old boy sitting on the hospital gurney in front of her, an ice pack held to his swollen eye and his left arm in a sling. He looked so much like her, but was growing up to be like his father.

"Michael, how many times have I told you not to fight?" she said exasperatedly, reaching forward to lift the ice pack.

"I'm sorry, mom. It wasn't my fault."

"Your cheekbone is broken, Michael," Gabriella said, handing him back the ice pack. Her pale green scrub top shifted as she stepped back, her hospital ID tag becoming visible. It identified her as a Registered Nurse.

"Mom, it wasn't my fault. I got into it with some guys at lunch, but Mr. Collins broke it up. They were waiting for me on the way home."

"Maybe if there was a man in the house, this wouldn't happen anymore" Gabriella muttered angrily, handing her son a fresh ice pack.

"Let's go back in time

When I could read your mind.

So I've been waiting."

"Yeah, maybe if Dad hadn't bailed on us eleven years ago," Michael replied, taking the fresh ice and applying it gently to his cheek.

"Michael, I've told you, your father had his reasons for leaving."

"Mom, that's total crap. I haven't seen the guy in eight years. I've learned not to rely on him."

"Michael, I wish things had gone differently. I wish I could have done something, anything to make your father stay. But you know as well as I that nothing would have stopped him."

Michael remained silent, turning his head slightly to gaze over his mother's shoulder through the window in the door to the room.

"It took the seasons going by to know it's not my fault."

"I'm going to order a pizza, go wash your face," Gabriella said as they walked in the door of the house, indicating the blood still staining Michael's chin. "And change your shirt."

Michael nodded, and started to walk up the stairs to his room. Opening the door, he pulled his shirt over his head, grimacing as the motion jarred his broken cheekbone. He stood in front of the mirror over his dresser, reaching out to gently touch one of the dark bruises that littered his torso.

He hadn't meant to start a fight with those guys. He never meant to. He could take whatever they said about him, but when they started in with the insults to his mother…

Michael shook his head, looking wistfully at a picture that stood on his nightstand. He was sitting next to his dad, watching a basketball game with him. The shot had been taken nine years previous, just six months before Troy had practically vanished. Nine years later, Michael still blamed himself.

"I tried to be perfect,

Tried to be honest,

Tried to be everything that you ever wanted."

He thought of what they had become since Troy had left. They were a broken family, with Gabriella working double shifts at the hospital while Michael took on an early morning paper route in addition to afternoon shifts at the local diner. All of this was necessary for them to live comfortably, especially since Troy's child support payments had stopped coming four years before.

He thought of what he could have done to make Troy stay, what he could have said. He had been only five, too young to understand. Too young to make a difference.

"I tried to be stronger

Tried to be smarter

Tried to be everything but you."

Shaking his head, Michael pulled a fresh shirt over his head, walking to the bathroom to wash his face. He had gone over everything in his mind so many times that his thoughts had become one big jumble. The last eleven years were a jumble.

Turning on the faucet, Michael splashed the cool water on his face, washing away the blood. Eight years without a father had changed him. Troy had left him when he needed him most, left him without a father figure for the hardest years of his life. He promised himself he would never abandon his family, never drive them away.

A few months after Troy had gone, Michael had begun to fight with the kids at school. At first it was only shouting and the occasional fist, all immediately broken up by teachers. Then had come the full-blown fights. He had already had several broken ribs, a broken wrist, a broken ankle, four concussions, a broken nose, and countless broken fingers.

Michael reached for a towel with his good arm, wiping his face dry. He didn't like what he had become, but it was too late to change. Too late to go back. For awhile he had thought that if he acted tough, he'd be good enough for Troy. Good enough to make him come home.

He had been wrong.

"It's been so long since you've been home;

I used to wait up forever.

I used to say a prayer,

Wishing you were there,

And I 'm still waiting."

Gabriella took a wine glass from the cabinet, pouring herself a glass of white wine from the bottle in the fridge. Sipping it, she sat at the table, placing her head in her hands. Being a single mother had been exhausting enough before Michael started ending up in the principal's office every other day. After that he had started showing up in the ER where she worked, sporting various injuries from fights. That was when she started to break down.

Sighing, she took another sip of the wine, letting the liquid run down her throat. It warmed her, calmed her down. She had thought she'd be okay, right after he had left. She had convinced herself, and everyone around her, that she'd survive. How wrong she'd been. She couldn't even keep her own son from ending up in the emergency room.

At first, she had prayed to God every night, prayed for Him to send Troy back to her. She waited for him for three years. They occasionally saw him for Michael's birthday, or a special event. But three years after he left he stopped calling, stopped visiting. She knew that was the end.

"You told me once you'd show up,

But I fell for that before I fell to pieces.

Then I woke up to no one,

Just a picture of Jesus in a house left in pieces."

As Gabriella sat, she dwelled on where it had all gone wrong. When Michael was three they had started fighting routinely, arguing over the slightest thing. For a few months they had thought they'd worked it out. That was the year he left.

The following years had been filled with lawyers, divorce courts, and reams of legal papers. At first Troy had cooperated, taking Michael on the required weekends. He'd take him to a sports game, or a movie, and then bring him back to Gabriella's on Monday. The last they had heard was after Michael's eighth birthday. Troy had sent a card saying he was moving to Los Angeles. Four years later he stopped sending the child support payments, leaving Gabriella and Michael to fend for themselves.

Sighing, Gabriella rested her head on her arm. She knew it was only minutes before the pizza would arrive, so she dug in her purse for money. Just as she fished out a twenty, the doorbell rang.

"Michael! Pizza's here!" she called up the stairs. Hearing an affirmative response from her son, she started toward the door, money in hand. Reaching for the knob, she pulled the door open. The money fell from her fingers as she saw who stood on the other side.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"It took the seasons gong by to know it's not my fault"

Michael was coming down the stairs when his mother answered the door, his injured arm held close to his body. Catching sight of the person, he froze. A million emotions ran through his head at the same time, all vying for his attention. Anger won out.

Taking the rest of the steps two at a time, he came to stand between his mom and the visitor.

"Dad," he said, eerily calm, crossing his arms and staring Troy down. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I tried to be perfect

Tried to be honest

Tried to be everything that you ever wanted"

"Michael," Troy addressed his son, trying to walk past him into the house. Michael blocked the door with his arm.

"Get out. You're not my father, and you don't live here anymore. So turn around, and leave,"

"Michael, please, let me explain."

"Out!"

Gabriella stepped forward, placing a hand on Michael's shoulder to calm him.

"Michael, let him in," she whispered quietly, her eyes not leaving Troy.

Michael continued to glare at his father as he moved aside, and followed his parents into the kitchen.

"Troy, what are you doing here?" Gabriella said quietly, offering him a glass of wine as they sat.

"I wanted to see you guys. I needed to."

"What makes now special?" Michael spit out contemptuously. "What about last year? Or the year before? Or what about the ten freaking years before that?"

"Michael, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I just needed-"

"Needed what, Dad? You needed to be there for me. You weren't. I don't have anything to do with you anymore."

"I tried to be stronger

Tried to be smarter"

Troy sighed as he looked away from his son and ex-wife.

"Michael, it was complicated. You wouldn't understand."

"Troy, why don't you explain. I think we both deserve to know why. You let us both down," Gabriella said quietly, looking imploringly at Troy. "Please."

"Let us down? Mom, he ruined our lives."

"Michael, calm down, please," Troy began.

"No, Dad, I won't calm down. I don't want to see you ever again. I used to dream about this moment, the moment I'd see you again. But guess what. It means nothing to me now. So get the hell out of my house, and my life."

"Michael-"

"Michael, please," Gabriella said wearily, stepping closer to her son.

"No!"

Troy looked imploringly at Gabriella, who shook her head. He nodded, then stood up slowly.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Troy whispered quietly to Michael as they walked to the front door. "But know that I'll always love you." He paused, looking at Gabriella. "Both of you. I was stupid, I was young, I made a mistake. I hope you'll both find it in your hearts to forgive me one day."

With that Troy walked out the door, heading for his car. Gabriella followed him, standing in the driveway as she watched him pull away.

Michael watched him go, keeping his arms crossed. As he turned to go back into the house, a thought crossed his mind.

He had vowed to be nothing like Troy, but he was just like him. It was inevitable.

"Tried to be everything but you."

A/N: Well, that was weird. I don't know, please review if you liked it or not. I might continue, might not. Depends.