I felt like taking a break from My Lapse In Judgment, so, even though I have to get up super-effing-early in the morning, I decided to surrender to this plot bunny and write a one-shot. Whoop-ee! This was inspired slightly by the fact that there's no way the Cox children can grow up with some screwing up. Just look at their parents.

Title: My Sunlight

Warnings: Future fic – a little darker than what I'm used to, with pretty strong language and mentions of statutory rape. I think it can escape with a T, but let me know if you disagree. Also, there may be possible OOC-ness. I suppose, since it's fifteen/sixteen years in the future, I can get away with a little OOC-ness, since in that time, the character's have changed, but still … sorry. :D

---

My Sunlight

Y'know, when I was little, I was pretty sick. Well, I suppose I still am. It's uropathy, thanks for asking. It doesn't really affect me much, but I've always known I was … you know. Different, from the other kids. It scared me. My family – I mean, they're screwed up, beyond belief, but they care. And when they saw how scared I was, they got more protective. Particularly Jackie.

Like one time, when I was five, and he was, like, nine. We were at the playground, and I was in the sandpit, playing with this truck. You know, those bright yellow ones kids play with. Yeah, I loved those. Anyway, I was playing really quietly, when this boy comes over and takes the truck. He didn't ask or anything, just took. I was really upset, yes, but I thought I'd get Daddy to come and get it back later. Jack wasn't having any of that.

He went right up to the kid and pushed him over, and told him not to take my stuff. Mom got really mad, but Jackie says he doesn't care, because it was for me.

No, I don't. Jack isn't a naturally violent guy.

Well, if you saw someone you loved get hurt, wouldn't you help them?

Nope. Jack and I never fought. He's a really sweet guy, Doc. When I was young, I used to wonder why Jack and I never fought, like Daddy and Aunt Paige, or Isabella and Cecelia. They were always at each throat's, but we got along famously. I didn't realize until he was gone – I used to lie on his bed, just because it smelt like him, and I felt closer to him. Then, it stopped smelling like him, and started smelling like me, and that's when it really sunk in and I realized that he isn't just my brother. He's my friend.

And no fucking bars are gonna change that.

I know. Daddy doesn't like that word either.

Except when he's drunk.

---

Ugh, this is so stupid. I don't understand when Perry thought this would be good. I bet Carla and Basketball Head aren't doing this.

Oh, they are? Well, who cares? I don't want to.

… Of course I care about Jack. He's my son! I mean, sure, I didn't exactly plan him; and I definitely wasn't thrilled when he eventually popped out. But I didn't want Jenny either, and you're not asking me about her!

Stop asking me about love! I don't take love seriously – it's a sarcastic thing to me. Love is a word you throw around when you want something, or you're mocking someone. Like Perry's hair. You can't deny that's funny.

Look, what the hell do you expect me to say? That I'm miserable? Heartbroken? Destroyed? Well, guess what, Doctor! I am! What else does a mother feel when her child is … you know.

I'm not saying Jack was supposed to grow up normal. Look at his parents. I know I'm a good mom, I can feel it, and Perry is a great dad – er, don't tell him I said that. But we both … just, slip, sometimes. Like Perry tends to drink a lot. Always away from the kids, but he does. And I sometimes say things that … upset them.

Yeah, like the affairs thingy.

Let me assure you, Doctor, that I haven't slept with anyone but Perry since Jack was born, and I don't like annoying, sweaty bastards who I don't know accusing me of it! I just say stuff to get a rise out of Per-Per. It makes the sex much better.

Well, sometimes … I mean, I've never been the most emotional person, but I like to think that my kids know I'm always gonna be there.

Okay, but if you breathe a word …

Okay. Sometimes, when I think about the possibility that Jack … did what he did because he didn't feel loved, I get really upset. Once, I cried myself to sleep. Again, don't tell anyone.

Oh, you understand, do you? Tell me, then, do you understand what it feels like to know you've failed your children?

Then, no. You don't understand.

---

I don't know what to say. I haven't been in therapy for ten years!

Okay, more like five. Whatever.

Well, Carla and I have been friends forever. Back when I was an intern. I sort of hoped we'd stay in touch, but … not like this.

Guilty? Why would I feel guilty?

Listen, Sally – my son forced no-one. Underage or not, Isabella made her own choice. Jack's only mistake was letting her do it.

Carla? I don't think she knows what to think. And Gandhi's not making anything better.

Well, that's none of your business.

Okay, Ginger; I know that since you think you're a real doctor, you have the right to poke around in my mind and find out all my innermost secrets, right? Wrong. My life is none of your business. If you wanna know, ask Gandhi. I know I agreed to these stupid sessions, but that's for my family's sake, NOT MINE. So take your psychological babble and stick up your –

My rants are not covering up my true emotions, you jackass!!

Okay, yes, that was unnecessary, but how the hell would you act in my situation, hmm? Would you not feel like breaking something, or self-destructing?

Yes, I know. I plan on replacing all the broken equipment in the lab.

No, not because I broke it. Because as Chief of Medicine, it's my job.

Well, I haven't thought of that. The Board's mentioned it a few times, but I don't think they plan on replacing me just because my son …

Look, for the last few years, I've done my best to not be my father. You can ask anyone. Even my sister – though she may drag you to Mass, I don't know. I know I'm not the best person, but I never wanted to be my father.

But, when Jackie was … two, o-or three, there was this … accident. Three patients died because of me. I was crushed. I tried to drink myself into oblivion, and I know that Jack watched me try. And ever since then, I've always assumed that the odd beer in front of him wouldn't hurt, because he's seen the worst. That's pretty like my dad, huh?

No, I've never hit him. No, not Jenny or Jordan.

Well, it's great to know that a therapist doesn't think I'm my father.

Thanks anyway.

Gandhi? Well, we've never really been friends, but cos of Carla, we've always sort of got on. But this time …

This time, he's not coming round.

---

Boy, this is weird. I've never been in therapy before.

Well, there was some time, back in the nineties. But, I never thought I'd be back, that's all. Definitely not for this.

That night? Well, Carla and I had gone to see Cecilia's dance recital – yep, my baby's a dancer! Anyway, we ended up going home early, because the traffic wasn't as bad as we thought. When we got home, there were these … noises, f-from Izzy's room.

No, I'm alright, it's okay.

Carla went in to see if Izzy was okay, and Cecelia went to get changed, and I checked my messages to see if VB had called.

VB – that's my friend, JD – stands for Vanilla Bear.

Well, he hadn't, but just as I put the phone down, I heard Carla scream. So, I ran up to see what had happened. And I saw … well, Izzy was yelling at us, screaming, more like, and … J-Jack Cox, trying to get dressed. I knew straight away what happened, to be honest.

Well, I was mad, you know. My Izzy was still a kid – she was sixteen. And Jack, he …

I don't care how messed up he is because of Dr. Cox and Jordan. He's in his right mind, and he still took advantage of my UNDERAGE daughter.

What do you think I did? I locked him in the bathroom and called the police! I remember Izzy kept telling me – no, begging me not to, and Carla was crying and … I know I did the right thing.

Consequences? Well, Izzy hasn't talked to me in six months. How's that for consequence?

---

I always kind of had a thing for Jack Cox. We've been friends since, like, birth, because my mom and his mom were sort of friends too.

Well, I first started like-liking him when we were kids. We used to play 'wedding', and we'd get Sam – Sam Dorian – to 'marry' us, heh …

Then, when I was in the fifth grade, I was just starting to grow, and it just seemed like Jack was suddenly … Jack. He wasn't Jackie, who played Power Rangers with me and married me in the playhouse, he was this – this teenager.

You know how girls sometimes dream about the ideal wedding? In mine, it was always Jack at the end of the aisle. I always ended up Mrs. Isabella Cox, and more importantly, I wanted to be Mrs. Isabella Cox.

Then I got to middle school, and I heard all the bad words and the rude jokes. So one day, I actually told Jack that when we got married, I wouldn't change my name to Cox, and he'd have to be Jack Turk.

After that, we definitely had something. It wasn't official or anything, but I could feel it there, like a fire.

He kissed me for the first time about two years ago. I was fourteen; he was eighteen.

To you, that may sound gross. To you, it would seem no different than me kissing my teacher. But when you think about it, four years isn't much time.

Well, yeah. This time in four years, Jack will be out, and we'll be together again.

Don't be ridiculous; no offence, but I know the difference between lust and love. I know I love Jack. And he loves me. Age is just a number, Dr. Green. Right now, I'm seventeen and he's twenty-one, but in four years, I'll be twenty-one and he'll be twenty-five. Will it still be gross then?

Yes, it is relevant.

My dad? If it weren't for Dad, Jack would still be free.

Of course I love my father. I just wish he had listened to our side of the story first. Before making any rash decisions.

Yeah. I know it isn't that simple.

---

Before we start, can I ask you a question? Just quicker?

Thanks.

How's my family? Jenny, Mom, Dad?

Holding up? I guess that's good.

So you've met them? Heard what they have to say?

No, you don't have to tell me what they said. I know what they said: bullshit.

I bet Jenny spouted off that I was always protective of her, that I was this great, gentle guy?

And Mom and Dad – all the 'where did I go wrong, what did I do, was it me, blah, blah, blah' crap?

I thought so.

Well, let me say this: I'm crazy about my family. I won't say love, cos that's a curse word in my house, but I love them. We're like any normal family – except, of course, for Dad's drinking, and Mom's constant Botox. Seriously, I don't know how old she is anymore.

My parents aren't very in touch with their emotions, okay? Did I get hugged all the time, reassured of their love all the time? Fuck no. Did it screw me up a bit? Well, obviously – look at where I am!

But it wasn't their fault, was it? I had sex with a minor because I wanted to – well, partly because I just relished the look Dad would get on his face if he knew how low his kid had sunk. Okay, so partly for attention, I'll admit. But Izzy … Izzy's always understood. Izzy's always been there, to support me when Mom and Dad and even Jenny couldn't. I'm crazy about her – yes, the same kind of crazy my dad is for Mom … even if he'll never admit it.

So you do your stupid evaluations, and you tell my family and the Turks and Izzy that I'm the one that royally fucked up – and I'm paying the price, aren't I?

And tell them that when I'm in my cell, with absolutely fuck all to do for the next three damn years, I'll be thinking of them. I want Jenny to go to a good college. When I'm released, she'll be nineteen, and if she's not in Ivy League … well, it's their loss, eh?

Dad will be retired, won't he? It's weird, everyone else will be flying forwards while I'm on hold, stuck here, and with no chance of a future when I get out.

Regret it? Hell no! I know what I did just screams 'fucked-up kid', but hey, I sort of am! I don't regret because for the first time, I actually felt like I was … complete, you know? Like for once, someone understood me. All my life, I've never said I love you, and never had anyone say those words exactly. With Izzy, I could finally show her what I meant.

And tell Izzy that she should find someone. She deserves so much better than me – someone who isn't way older than her, for one. And also tell her …

Nah. She already knows.

What, you're leaving? Well, back to the cell I go.

Let Mom and Dad know that … well, just tell them I love them. In. Those. Words.

Well, okay. Thanks, Doc.

Next time I see you … remind me how the sunlight feels.

---

… don't flame? –flees—