I have two half-siblings, so I can relate to what I write here. R&R, enjoy.

If I owned Danny, he wouldn't be dead.

Prologue.

Danny stood in front of a large marble rock in his front yard, reading the words in the smooth surface quietly to himself,

"Officer Daniel Walker

September, 1912 – December 1941

A best friend, a hero, and a father"

He smiled slightly and said, "Dad?" There was no answer. "No one really talks about you, I think their afraid. I don't know why, but I wish I could have known you." He smiled to himself and sat down, leaning against the cool marble.

"You know," he said lazily, "I'm turnin' ten this year, I wonder what your tenth birthday was like?" He wondered absently, his head slowly drooping to one side as he fell into a deep sleep.

Rafe walked out of the front door, looking for his son who had disappeared three hours ago. He knew exactly where Danny would be, it was where he always was when he was sad or mad, or hurt. He didn't know why he did that, maybe it was to be near the father he never knew; maybe he felt a missing piece like a forgotten puzzle.

Rafe made his way to the head stone he knew was there, though the light was fading, and saw Daniel Walker McCawley asleep against its surface, snoring lightly. He didn't notice until just then how much the boy looked like his father.

Sudden tears stung his eyes; he knelt next to his adopted son and smiled, "You'd be proud of him Danny, he's a good kid." He then picked up the sleeping boy and carried him back into the house.

Danny Jr.s POV

I walked out into the early morning air, heading to the last place I remembered being; I didn't recall walking into the house the night before, though I must have, it didn't matter.

For the past few days my father, my real father, had been more of a mystery than it ever had. He seemed almost unreal in my life. Sure there were the little things: When I look at pictures of him I see the same face that I see in the mirror, Sometimes I see my mom and Rafe talking and crying in their room when they think I'm not home, when my mom will suddenly go glassy eyed if I say something or make a certain face, it mostly happens when I'm worried. She says that I look exactly like him, except for a few things, like my nose, she said I got that from her, but that's it.

"Who were you?" I asked the cold, unmoving earth. I got no reply.

I remembered perfectly the few things I was able to squeeze out of my mom, Rafe refused to mention my dad, he wouldn't say why. I was able to make my mother tell me six things about him. 1) He and Rafe were best friends since they were little 2) He was a pilot 3) He fought in the infamous Pearl Harbor and lived only to die a few weeks later on a Top Secret mission over seas 4) He was always shy 'cause his daddy beat on him 5) His last name was Walker and 6) He knew about me before he died.

I clung to those six things, the only things I knew about him, besides he looked like me. I also knew we kept his uniform and metals in the attic, untouched.

My half-brother, Jim, came over to me after a few minutes, "Whatcha doin'" he asked.

I looked at him, seeing as much of my step father there as I saw me in my father's pictures, "I'm thinkin'," I said.

"Thinkin' of what?"

"My daddy,"

"He's inside," Jim said, confused.

"That's not my daddy."

"Sure it is. He calls you son, and you call him dad when you're not sore." He replied innocently.

I regret what happened next; he was after all, only five, "Why do you think we don't look anything alike? You look like Rafe, he looks like you, who do you think I look like? Who do you think that is?" I pointed an angry finger towards the grave.

Jims small face crumpled, "You mean…You 'aint my brother?" He said sadly.

I sighed, "Yes, Jim, I am your brother. We have the same mom, just not the same dad. Didn't you know? Didn't they tell you? I'm your half-brother, Rafe 'aint my daddy."

"That's your daddy?" He said, pointing to the grave.

"Yeah, or he used to be."

"What was he like?"

"I wish I knew."

"Do you miss him?"

"Yes."

"Why?" He may have been five but I still wanted to smack him for his ignorance.

"Because he was my father."

"What's your real name then, if you're not a McCawley."

The thought hadn't entered my mind until then. I guess I wasn't really a McCawley, I was a… "Walker. I'm Danny Walker."

Sudden tears came to Jims face and he ran into the house. It was only when Rafe came out that I realized I was crying too.

"What have you two done to each other now? Jim's crying so hard, he can't hardly talk."

"How did my dad die?" I said, not answering his question.

My question must have really caught him off guard because all he did was awkwardly laugh and say, "I'm right here Danny, what are you talking about." It was a statement, he didn't want to know what I was thinking, because he knew and he didn't want to hear it. But I ignored the implied tone and answered.

"You know who I mean. Danny Walker. Your best friend."

"I told you-" he began sadly, as if he had rehearsed it since the day I was born.

"I know! But why won't you tell me? Why won't you teach me how to fly? What could have possibly happened that made you want to keep me in the dark? All I know about him came from mom; you won't even talk about him!"

He hung his head in front of both the Danny's in his life, "Did you know," he began, looking down, "He found out you were coming right before he died."

"Yes, I did," I said impatiently. I knew this already, "But why does that mean you can't speak of him?"

"I miss him, I didn't want you to feel the loss your mother and I feel all the time, it was best for him to be some distant figure, I did it for you, son."

"I'm not you son." I said with venom that surprised me. He visibly flinched, "Did you ever think that he's the most real adult in my life? He listens to me and I can feel him, in me, around me. He's here, you've done nothing to diminish him in my life."

"I'm sorry."

"I have one last thing," I said quickly, before the brick wall surrounding my father in his head went back up, "Why? Why do you want to protect me so much? I'm not yours, in fact, you should hate me, if it wasn't for me and my dad, you would have always had moms heart, you have to share forever now."

He let out a breath I hadn't realized he was holding, "All our lives, up until Pearl Harbor, I was so used to protecting Danny, from his dad, from bullies…from life. I didn't even tell him I had volunteered to fight in England, I told him I was assigned."

" I didn't quite know what he was talking about, but I didn't want him to stop. He owed me answers."

"I guess," He continued, "You just look so much like him….I just carried over all my feeling for him onto you. The one time I couldn't protect him was the one time only he could protect me…and he died for it."

Silent tears streaked my face, "That's not it is there? He said something, didn't he?"

"Yes, after I told him he was going to be a daddy, his last words to me and the world were, 'Now you are' I love you like you were mine. He wanted me to. He didn't have to speak to let me know how he felt, he never did."

"Oh," I couldn't look at him anymore, "You know, Rafe, I can handle myself."

Just for a moment I saw a small smile, "He would say that all the time, you know. You act so much like him…"

For the next few hours all we did was talk about him. I could tell it helped him remembering as it did for me. I may miss my father, but he missed his best friend, brother, and comrade.

Can you believe that was just the prologue? Trust me, there is a plot coming, I just needed to show where everything is starting from. Thank you for reading and watch out for the next chapter! :) ~J