"Now is the time and the time is now". Say what you want before something happens that you'll regret, or walk away and never look back. Set when the boys were 16&13 – Alan says something he regrets forever.

Sequel to "We'll do it tomorrow."

A/N: This will be the prequel to my book, explaining more of what happened and what happens on the Epee's adventure of growing up. Look for it later this week or next – and feel free to suggest a title! Please R&R, no flames.

Ages: The boys are 16 and 13 in this story.

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"Don," Charlie said, stating himself up. "Where have you been? I called you five times."

"Sorry…" Don said. "I was at Jake's playing ball."

"You're always somewhere doing something!" Charlie replied. "I never get to go with you? How come? Why not? You know how much I want to go with you."

"Yeah, I do." Don admitted. He just shrugged though. "But… Dad's always doing stuff with you, so I guess I didn't really think it would matter, ya'know… you two are always off doing something." He dropped his backpack down and scuffed his toe in the dirt.

Alan came bursting out to the garage. "Don, where have you been? Your mother and I were worried about you."

Ouch… Don didn't want to think about his mother right now. They'd had a really bad run-in this morning, which had ended up with Don blowing up at her mother. "I went to Jake's to play ball," he said, "and then I—" he stopped.

"And then? And then? You're supposed to tell your mother where you're going, Don. You left at six o'clock! To play ball! Before school! Did you even go to school, or did you skip the bus?"

"Mr. I-have-special-tutors here can confirm that I was in school, Dad," Don said angrily. He sat down on the couch. "I took the bus from Jake's house. And I left a note on the kitchen table."

"You should have told me. Why did you leave at six thirty for Jake's? You should be getting on the bus at that time," Alan said, frustrated with Don.

"Dad –" Don practically spat, "There was a two hour school delay. Of course, you wouldn't realize it, because you were too busy too realize it… you were getting Charlie ready for school so you could drive him to school because you don't want 'the kids on the bus picking on him.' You won't even drive me to school and we go to the same damn school," he said angrily.

"That's not true. You prefer the bus," Alan said.

"How do you know? Have you ever offered?" Don countered. "Let me think… name one time."

Alan sighed. He knew Don was right. "Don, you know you could have asked me for a ride anytime," he countered.

"You hate me, just admit it!" Don screamed. "I know you do, just admit it already. You've always liked Charlie better, ever since he was born. You hate me; you probably wish I would die to. Am I even your child? Charlie and I are so different… sometimes I wonder."

"Fine, you want to know the truth?" Alan spat. Don grew quiet and nervous, wondering if his father would tell him he hated him. He knew it, but he didn't want for his father to confirm it.

"You can't tell him until he's eighteen or asks!" Margaret said, coming into the room. "I thought that was the deal."

"Well, I'm breaking it. He wants to know why Charlie's smart and he's a dumbass. So I'll tell him."

Don opened his mouth but no sound came out. I'm a dumbass? I make B's! How am I dumb? Ok, so I'm not as Charlie… but still!

Alan rummaged around in his drawers and flipped the paper at Don. "I'm going for a drive," he said. "Charlie! Come on – your math lesson is in forty minutes."

"Coming!" Charlie called, grabbing his backpack and running out the door, grateful to get out of the chaos.

Don opened the paper and read: Don Stewart

Son of Mary Stewart and Joseph Stewart

Adopted by Margaret and Alan Epee's

"I'm adopted?" he asked his mother in complete shock. He tossed the paper on the table. "So this is why you hate me," he said, his face breaking out in tears. It wasn't cool for a grown boy to cry, but he didn't care. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh, Don, I'm so sorry…" Margaret said, wrapping Don's arms in her embrace. "It was the rule when we adopted you… I'm sorry."

"Why do you guys hate me?" Don said, pushing free. "Why am I so dumb? I make B's… I'm not dumb, Dad keeps calling me dumb, I know I'm not as smart as Charlie, but why am I dumb?" He buried his face in his hands in the rocking chair.

"Don, I'm sorry – I don't hate you, honey," Margaret said. "It's just, that, well, your father is having some problems now, and he needs to resolve them."

"Yeah, I know." Don said. "His problem is me. If I just go, I'll resolve all your problems and you'll be happy, right?"

"Don, it's not that it's you…" Margaret said, glancing at him. She didn't know what to say. Her husband was going down the cracks and she had no idea what to do for Don.

"Don, come back!" She ordered, getting up. "Don, you can't runaway. I'm your mother, and I love you very much…" she glanced when she realized that Don was gone and in the doorway.

"No, you all hate me," he said. "That's the way it is and that's the way it's going to be. So guess what – I hate you too. I'm gone."

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Look for my book, a sequel to "We'll Do It Tomorrow" and "Now Is The Time," sometime next week! Will be AU.

Please read and review. All constructive criticism is appreciated!