Disclaimer: My name is nowhere in the credits, ergo, I own absolutely nothing.


Charlie ached all over.

He winced as he swung his feet up onto his bed. He adjusted the pillow behind him and grunted as he flipped the blanket over him. His knuckles still felt the contact he'd made with those guys' bones. And the rest of him felt the contact they had made with his bones.

Sure, they'd beat him up bad before. But nothing like this. He'd run into Ricky and his goons before, but this was worse. Much worse.

This wasn't just about the aching everywhere in his body that turned him to a walking bruise. This wasn't about the ringing in his ears or the stars he still saw floating in the darkness of his trailer.

This hurt more than anything else ever had. His eyes flitted up to the shelf on the opposite side of the trailer.

This was about his heart.

His son.

Max.

Charlie wasn't a man who wallowed in his pain. He wasn't the type to grovel for the likes of Ricky. And there was no way he would ever back down. Charlie Kenton was no sissy. He was tough. He was strong. He could take care of himself.

But Max?

The images replayed themselves in his mind. The chase. Max's restraint. His pockets rifled and his hard-earned money pilfered. His helplessness to do anything about it all. Nothing Charlie had ever known had pained him more than seeing Max unwittingly involved in that mess. He would take a hit for the kid. He'd do anything to take care of him.

Charlie's lips twitched into a grim smile. Funny how things had changed. Within minutes of meeting Max, he could have cared less if the kid had wandered off to live in the street. But now….

Charlie stared at the slumbering face on the shelf.

Max had comforted him. It wasn't much, but Charlie remembered the folded shirt he'd set between his head and the dirt. Max had cared for him. He was the one who wouldn't let him up until he was certain nothing was broken. Max had helped him. He had supported him all the way back to the truck. Max… Max had even defended him. Ricky had called him a dirtbag. Max had shot back the word "father".

Charlie's brows pinched together as he questioned himself. Where was I when he needed me?

Charlie had never been there to comfort him. Charlie had been too scared, too selfish to care about him, much less for him. Charlie had never taught him. Charlie had even failed to stand up for him. Multiple times.

He doesn't deserve me. He deserves someone who wants to give him the best. Someone who cares enough to give him a home, family. To care for him. Love him.

Charlie suddenly flipped back his blanket and swung his legs out. His heart ached more than the rest of him combined. Whether it was because of what had happened or because of what he was going to do, he didn't know, but he was either going to put Max through all that again or give him what he needed and deserved.

And he had to make that call.


Author's Note: This portion of the fic didn't want to leave me alone, so I typed it up. I don't know when the rest of the story will beg for attention, though, so no promises as to when I'll update. Hopefully soon-ish though.