A/N: I couldn't take A/Z not talking about 6x04 and is been bothering me for months. Therefore decided to write this. There is a possibility for a second chapter.

Thank you to Chefie1 for helping me so much in this process!


Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub…

My trembling hand flies up to cover my chest. Though I know it's a pointless action, I somehow hope it will calm my racing heart. The sudden gust of Chicago's infamous winter wind whips through the slits of my jacket and stings my eyes, causing water to fill them. I want to get back into the car; in fact, my conscious is screaming for me to get back into the warm safety of my car. The nervous jitters lining my stomach, making me feel as if I will lose my lunch on the side of this curb doesn't help either. Yet, I can't stop feeling like a hopeful idiot. One of the biggest, might I add. Though, I suppose that's a universal personality flaw, which comes with being a mother.

I've been standing here under the airline arrival's platform for about three minutes, waiting for my son to appear. When he called five minutes ago to tell me that he was headed towards baggage claim, my nervous excitement went from about a five to fifty. I haven't seen him since he left for college. And in between that near year of time passed, our relationship had come to a halt. I felt like didn't know my sweet little boy anymore, the one whom would help me with my terminal, technological case of ineptness and was always looking out for me when he felt his father fell short. He was my firstborn, and a child whom taught me what love means—what love is.

I forgot that on the day I called him nothing short of angry after hearing about Nisa's abortion. But as I see him now emerge through the sliding doors with a shorter haircut and a large suitcase along with a backpack slung over his shoulders, I'm reminded that I could never disown my child. Tears threaten to spring into my eyes and run down my cheeks when I see him glance up at me, then back down to his phone before reaching my position.

"Hey, mom," he says flatly.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I smile widely, outstretching my arms. "Hi, Zach. I've missed you." Wrapping my arms around his torso, I'm not sure how to respond when he barely attempts to return the hug.

I knew this was going to be awkward. Ever since the Nisa abortion debacle, our conversations have been very tense. He barely calls and when he does, he tiptoes around issues. He has been angry with me; I knew that. But another part of him also seemed scared to talk to me. I handled the situation poorly when I found out about Nisa, I know that, but he lied to me and not only once, but over and over again.

"You didn't have to come get me. I could have taken a cab home. I know you are busy these days with the campaign," he says as he opens the back door and lays his luggage across the backseat. The way he lets that last word linger tells me he wants to say more, but doesn't.

"Don't be silly. Of course I could come get you. It's been too long since we last saw you," I tell him with a smile that he barely returns.

This will be a long forty-five minute ride home, I'm positive. We both climb into the car and he doesn't bother looking my way. As we fasten our seatbelts, I stare at him for matter of seconds before slowly pulling away and merging back onto the interstate. I guess about ten minutes have passed and he still won't utter a word to me. I probably should have let Peter pick him up.

"So," I try again, "How is school? Tell me everything."

"It's been mostly good," he nods, and then turns his head to look at the window.

"And your classes?"

"Fine," he answers quickly.

"What are you taking this semester? Still focusing on IT classes?"

"Yup," he says as he jerks his head down and stares at his vibrating phone.

I wonder if it's a message or call from Nisa. I can't really see the screen. Is he still involved with her? Little facts like that make me realize just how much distance has been placed between us.

This was beginning to feel like I was pulling teeth and I knew it would be. Since Peter called me two nights ago to ask if I could pick up Zach from the airport because he couldn't, I had this uneasy feeling. Like a blind idiot, I had no idea what Peter was talking about when he asked if I could pick up Zach. Our son had called his father to come get him and not me? His father, a man who had less time than me and whose career was demanding more of him than he could give. Zach not even bothering to tell me he was coming home was like a slap in the face. Ever since that day I called him so angry, he not once reached out but neither have I. I thought he would have known, despite the fact I was upset, that I still loved him more than words could ever say. So why didn't he call me to pick him up? Also, when was he planning to tell me he was coming back to Chicago? Who the hell does he think he is calling his father and not me?

"Well, that is good." I attempt to get him talking again. "Are you enjoying D.C? I absolutely loved it." I look at him and then quickly return my glance at the road.

"Yeah, D.C I great. Especially now that the weather is getting nicer and spring has arrived. Lots to do around town."

"Oh yes, spring in D.C is fantastic!"

"Yup," he blandly responds again and continues to focus on his phone.

His dismissiveness curbs my patience. I am the one that should be evasive and mad here. Not him! We continue to drive in a silence for a few minutes but the longer the silence continues, the more annoyed I get. He should be telling me about school and his classes. He hasn't been home since the fall.

"So, what happened last Thanksgiving? How come you didn't come home?"

"I told you, mom. I just had to much school work."

"Yes, you did say that. But what about Christmas break?" I wasn't going to let up. I wanted answers. I've always taught my children no matter what, family comes first.

"You know, Chris helped me find a part time job, and I took it. I need to start pulling my own weight so I decided to work."

I nod. "And you know I respect that. I am glad you got a job. But we were hoping to see you then. You know I would rather see you. Besides, you can always get a job during the summer instead."

"Sure, I know," he tells me but I can see him rolling his eyes out of the corner of my eye.

That was it. I had it with him. I exit off the next ramp and pull into the nearest gas station.

"Why are we stopping? Do we need gas?" he asks.

Shifting the gear into park, I unbuckle my seatbelt and angle my body to face him.

"Zach. What is going on? And don't lie to me."

He shakes his head in disbelief and averts his attention out the window. "Nothing is going on."

"You decide not to come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas just because you had to work? That doesn't sound like you. You have barely said anything since you got in the car." I paused, waiting for him to disrobe my accusations. He doesn't. "What's the problem? You don't have the respect to call and tell me you are coming home, so I had to hear it from your father two days ago. What is the deal with that?"

He shifts his focus back on me. "Oh, you and dad talk? Color me shock."

"Don't be snarky, Zach. Not now; I am not in the mood." My anger doesn't upset him. For a brief second, I feel at a complete loss. Has our relationship been this damaged that it's verging beyond repair? "Zach," I say softer, "What is the problem?"

"You are my problem, Mom." I draw back slightly in my seat. I wasn't expecting to hear that. "I have nothing more to say. If I did have more to say, it's not like you would listen. Just—just back off."

Just back off? Who does he think he is?

"No! I will not back off. That is obviously not what you want since I sense a lot of anger. But let me say this before you tell me why you want me to back off. You were the one to lie to me, lie after lie after lie. And now, you are still angry with me for being hurt from your lies? What did you expect me to do? Pretend it didn't happen?"

He shakes his head profusely. "No, that is not what I am asking you to do. I apologized numerous times." I wait with baited breath for the true face of our confrontation when he pivots his torso in my direction. "I am sorry that I lied to you, mom. But you have been different ever since. You treat me like I am a different person."

"I have not been different and that is not fair," I tell him as I fold my arms across my chest and look away.

"It is totally true. The reality is, since you started running for office, you are the one who has been a different person. Not once did you ask me if it was okay, and not once did you talk to me about this campaign. You called to reprimand me about Nisa and you didn't even bother to answer my question about why you decided to run. Like, what the hell, mom?"

"I was angry, Zach. I wasn't really in the mood to give you an explanation about why I was running. And let's not forget that it wasn't just one lie you told me, it was lie after lie. You broke our bond; I thought I could count on you and you go and do this to me. Just like—" I stop there because I knew what I was about to say would cross a line. Zach also knows exactly where I was going. The disappointing look which masks his face before he looks away again and shakes his head, tells me he knows I was just about to compare him to his father. Not that I would ever accuse his character of ever mimicking Peter's. In the heat of the moment, even I can't explain why I went there.

We stay quite for a few seconds when I finally ask, "What could have given you the impression that I would not have understood the situation you where in?"

"It was not that I didn't think you would understand. I was just…scared. I didn't want to disappoint you or dad." He tells me as he shakes his head and looks out the window. The moment I open my mouth to disperse his fears, he quickly settles his attention back on me, a surprising mountain of sadness now filling his orbs. "Haven't you ever told a lie?"

For a brief second, the memory of sitting alone on the edge of Peter's and my bed in our first apartment crosses my mind. I had just found out I was three weeks pregnant that afternoon. I was terrified, in shock, and angry with us for being so careless. As I cradled the phone in my hands, prepared to call my parents, I replayed a lie about my conception over and over again in my head. I didn't plan on them knowing the reason we needed to change the wedding date was because I was knocked up. By the time I heard my father's voice in the receiver, the truth was the only thing that spilled past my lips.

"No, not a lie like this and especially not to the people I love," I tell him with a raised voice, higher than I intended.

"Well you know what, mom? Not all of us can be as perfect as you. Some of us make mistakes, okay? Apparently you are the only one in this family who doesn't lie, Saint Alicia."

The way he said 'Saint Alicia' and how he rolled his eyes then turned his head away from me, struck a chord. I've tried playing nice and to remain understanding. Where had he heard that and where does he get off calling me that?

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?! I would never lie to you or Grace about something that important! And you know it."

"Oh, please, mom. Don't be a hypocrite. All you do is lie to Grace and me. You and dad are both liars. You think we don't know you two are not together anymore and that you have been lying to the press for months now? Come on. The least you guys can do is own up to it."

I am shaking my head now because I cannot believe he is throwing this in my face. "That is different, Zach! I'm warning you," I raise my hand, showing that I mean it, "Don't even go there! The situation between your father and I is a lot more complicated than you just lying to me about taking trips to Boston when instead you were taking your girlfriend to get an abortion."

"No it is not different! You can't make the rules about what sort of lie is okay or not okay. You and dad are still lying. And you keep lying to Grace and me when you don't tell us the truth about your 'arrangement.'"

A heavy sigh flutters past my lips. I can feel a headache brewing at the base of my head. How long have we been sitting here arguing? Much too long for my liking, that's for sure.

"Zach," I say tiredly, "Why don't you leave your dad and I out of this conversation just because you want worm a way out of all the lies you told me last summer. Your father and I have our complications. There. I admit to that. But don't try to derail this conversation."

"I am not derailing; I am just speaking my mind. Don't preach to me about lying when you lie all the time."

He looks at me with so much hurt that I don't even know what to say to him because my anger is clouding my judgment.

"You are unbelievable, you know that?" His continued tirade baffles me, especially since I was the one to get him riled up. "You are doing the same thing to me as you did to dad. The way you gave me the cold shoulder and how even eight months later, you can't move on. You think you are so much better because you don't lie when the reality is you have been lying to us, too. You act like you are a better person then the rest of us. I thought good people were able to forgive, no matter what. Why can't you just forgive me, mom?"

"Don't go there, Zach. It is not at all the same thing and you know it. What your dad did was a complete violation of our marriage of fifteen years. I don't hold your lies at the same levels as your dad's and you know that. Me forgiving or not forgiving your father is completely different than your situation."

"Sure, maybe you don't hold my lies at the same level as dad's, but the reality is still the same. Once some one hurts you or lies to you, you shut them out. And even as genuine as the apologies or actions are, you don't accept them or even try to accept them. You know, you never once asked me how I felt about the Nisa situation. You called, yelled at me and then gave me the silent treatment for weeks. You didn't even try to inquire about how I must have felt."

I closed my eyes at the memory because I know I shouldn't have talked to him that day the way I did. I was just angry. I needed time to cool off. But my words where ice cold to him.

"I was upset with you, Zach. I needed time to clear my head."

"I am your son, mom. I needed you then. I needed to hear that you were at least willing to listen. I wished you had forgiven me. You know I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally."

Remorse coats every inch of my heart. "I know that, sweetheart. I have forgiven you. It's just hard for me to me to get over the hurt I felt when I found out that you of all people have been lying to me. It really hurts when someone you trust disappoints you."

"I am so sorry. I really do mean it. I wish I could turn back time; I would have told you the truth. I am so sorry I disappointed you. But mom, I can't live a life thinking that any time I make a mistake, you are going to shut me out."

"You know I would never do that. But honey, sometimes…it just takes time. I was hurt because you lied to me, and I didn't see why you would."

"Because I didn't want to be like dad. He had already caused you enough disappointment and I didn't want to be next on the list. And your reaction only confirmed that for me. You can't just do that to people, completely shut them out the moment they disappoint you. Isn't that what family is there for?"

When I reach out a hand to cup his face, I'm surprised when he doesn't flinch.

"I am sorry, Zach. You are right. I think I've been hurt so much, I sort of put up walls to protect myself. I shouldn't have done that to you. You didn't deserve that reaction from me." I reach over to place my hand on top of his.

"Can we start over?" I ask him with a small smile.

He returns my gesture and squeezes my hand tightly. "Of course, mom. I love you and I promise I won't lie to you again," he tells me as he reaches across to give me a hug.

"I love you, too, so much."

We hug for a few minutes and I feel all of the tension I've been withholding for the last few months just disappear. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The tears instantly start to roll down my cheeks.

Once he pulls away he looks at me, a serious look showering his face.

"Mom, if we are going to me more honest and open with each other, I think it's time you and dad treat Grace and I like adults. We are not kids anymore; we know something isn't right. It's time you tell us the truth. What is going on with you two?"

I nod at him and wipe the tears from my face.

"I know, Zach. I have to accept that you two are not children anymore and that I can't protect you from everything. I don't have the answers for you right now about your father and I. And I am not sure when I will. But I am going to make you a promise. I will talk to him and once I do that, we will talk to you and Grace together about it. Deal?"

"Deal!" He smiles at me and my heart is full again because that is the smile of the son I know and love.

"So, how about we go home now?"

"Yes! I can't wait to see Grace. I miss that brat."

"Hey, don't call her that. She missed you, too. But don't tell her I told you," I said in between laughs.

He responds in laughter and it warms my heart. "I won't."

"Good" I smile at him. I place the car into drive and take us home.