ALWAYS HIS FATHER'S SON
SUMMARY: Missing scene from Season 4, Episode 19 - Secret Arrangements . What happened after Danny left the house during Sunday dinner?
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Blue Bloods, if I did...there'd be some definitive answers on who's the oldest! (If you own Season 1 you know what I'm talking about)
BETA:
A/N: Ok, i'm not sure about this...but I'm gonna post it anyway. And if you don't like it...please keep it to yourself! Thanks!
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"Let him go Linda, he's not really here anyway."
The tension that had fallen once Danny had left could be cut with a knife. Not even the youngest Reagan's felt like eating which was saying a lot. In family of strong, independent individuals disagreements were a fact of life. The difference was that this time father and son weren't having a simple disagreement - they were arguing and it was tearing them apart.
"Mom," The voice of Danny's oldest seemed loud in the now deathly quiet dining room.
"What's the matter Jack?" Linda asked, keeping her voice calm as she faced Jack and his brother, Sean.
"May I be excused please?" Jack asked.
Linda hesitated, knowing Sean would want to leave the table too and wanting the boys to eat. However considering that she didn't want to be at the table any more she didn't want to force the boys to stay either. There was also the fact that Jack was starting to look slightly pale.
Jamie gave her a hand by asking, "Aren't you hungry buddy? You barely ate anything."
Jack shook his head, "My stomach hurts. Please mom?"
Linda gave him a smile, "Sure, why don't you lay down on the couch in the living room. Once I get Sean settled I'll go sit with you."
"I'll sit with him Aunt Linda," Nikki offered more than willing to leave if it meant getting away from the tension riddled table.
"Me too?" Sean looked over at his mom hopefully.
"Thank you Nikki," Linda as she gave Sean a simple nod of permission with a smile.
It was only after the three kids had gone, plates in the kitchen, that Jamie looked at Henry and asked only half jokingly, "Me three?"
Linda and, older sister, Erin, smiled good naturally while Henry chuckled but Frank wasn't amused. He had never liked arguing with his kids. Unsurprisingly since they were the ones most alike , he and Danny had most often clashed. The fact didn't make the situation any easier.
Which is why instead of simply ignoring Jamie's quip he snapped, "If you're that uncomfortable Jamison, then you know where the door is. And while we're at it, since when..."
"That's enough Francis," Henry, Frank's dad, said. He was scaringly calm where he sat at the foot of the table.
There was something in his father's voice that stopped Frank cold. It was a forgotten memory of long ago that tweaked the back of his mind. Frank wasn't quite sure what the memory was but it's enough to stop him in his tracks.
Jamie, Linda, and Erin all tense - in fact Jamie looks like a spring that has been coiled too tight. None of them have ever heard Henry speak to Frank the way he is and it's disconcerting.
Frank sighed, "If you'll excuse me, I don't think I'm going to be good company right now."
"I'll make sure the kids keep out of the kitchen Francis," Henry tells his son. That hint of something still in his voice. "Don't clear the kids plates. I'm sure they'll want to take the leftovers home in case they get hungry."
Frank doesn't comment, not that Henry was expecting him too. Henry is well aware that Frank will end up using the back stairs to head to his room - anything to get away from the situation he's helped create.
In the dining room, Henry forced himself to calm down and proceed with dinner like nothing was wrong. It was a farfetched idea though considering their group of nine had dwindled to four.
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With Jack's stomachache and Jamie's feelings still stinging from his dad's words the Sunday get together ended sooner than normal. Erin, Nikki, and Linda had cleaned up the table and kitchen as much as possible since Henry had ordered them to not wash the dishes...something none of them asked about.
Once all the younger Reagan's had left Henry sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee...waiting.
"It's quiet down here." Frank said coming down the stair five minute later.
"With yours and Danny's tantrum, I think it pretty much put everyone off eating." Henry replied, censure in his voice. He picked up his mug to take a sip and nodded towards the sink. "I had the girls leave the dishes for you."
"Pop..." Frank started.
"Dishes aren't going to wash themselves Francis." Henry broke in, picking up the discarded Sunday paper.
Frank huffed, disturbed with the ease in which his father had just dismissed him.
"For the record," Frank informed the eldest Reagan. "I'm doing the dishes because they need to be done not because you think you can make me do them."
And if that statement didn't suddenly turn Frank into the same age as his teenage granddaughter the slamming of items and the occasional mutter helped finish the process.
It's when a mismatched glass went skidding off the counter and crashed onto the floor in about a hundred pieces that Henry has had enough.
Frank may be an adult, the police commissioner, have adult children of his own, have grandchildren of his own but he is first and foremost Henry's son! Nothing will change that, not now, not ever.
Frank stared at the glass in dismay because temper or no he hadn't meant to break it. What's worse is that it was his favorite beer glass, one his wife had brought for him the year before she had died.
So lost in his thoughts was he, that Frank didn't notice his dad stomping up behind him. A loud *CRACK* filled the air, followed a split second later by a sharp stinging pain.
Time in the military and a lifetime on the police force had not trained Frank for this moment. It's for that reason that instead of moving, instead of protesting, Frank froze. And really that's unfortunate for him.
"Tantrum," *CRACK, CRACK* "over," *CRACK, CRACK* "now!" Henry demanded as he swung the wooden spoon, he'd grabbed from the island, down onto his child's backside.
Henry got a total of five smacks in before his son whirled around and cried out indignantly, "Pop!"
Frank can't seem to decide if he wants to glare at his father for...well for or staring wide-eyed at the wooden spoon in the older man's hand. He finally settled for holding up a placating hand and trying to be the adult he is rather then the child his father wanted to treat him like.
"You done acting younger then Sean?" Henry demanded before his son can get a word in edge wise.
"I didn't mean to break the glass pop." Frank told him calmly though he can tell the explanation has done nothing to soothe his father's ire.
In that moment Frank is thrown back into the forgotten memory of a similar incident when he's twelve. The outcome hadn't been favorable then and he can only pray that at his age and status Henry doesn't make him "come here."
Frank has never fought his father on a punishment, much like his children have never fought him. But there are difference between Frank and Henry.
For one Henry uses a cane to help him get around. For two Frank is bigger not that, that has ever stopped Henry. The main difference though is that Frank is still more then capable of making his children submit to a punishment if he truly had to. Henry would have to count on Frank willingly submitting on his own. Frank isn't sure he could.
*CRACK*
"Damn it pop!" Frank was determined not to give into the childish urge to rub the stinging spot but it's hard because dang it, it hurts!
"It's considered polite to listen when someone is talking to you Francis." Henry scolded, ignored his son's outburst. "If you don't remember that maybe I need to start going over some basic courtesies with you each evening. "
"That's won't be necessary pop," Frank disagreed knowing by his father's tone that the man was very serious. "I apologize for not listening."
Henry gave him a look before continuing, doing his best to keep his voice even. He knows his son well enough to know that while Frank is compliant now if he were to start to yell and scold, the younger man would become stubborn. This isn't a conversation he wants to have twice.
"Those boy's have always respected that you're in a difficult position Francis. They have never asked for special treatment; not even when it would have been afforded to them because of the circumstance not because of who they are. Joe even considered moving out of state to make it easier on you. Yet all the boys joined the NYPD so they could make you proud. They knew how hard it was going to be. The scrutiny they'd be under, the people who'd hate them simply because of their last name."
"Pop," Frank interrupted with a sigh.
*CRACK*
"Ugh," Frank didn't even try to hide the grunt of pain as his father smacked him on the upper thigh. And really, how had the man gotten him angled for that smack?
"It's rude to interrupted Francis." Henry reminded him dryly.
Frank glared, "You're not telling me anything new pop."
A glint of determination appeared in Henry's eyes as he advanced on his child. Frank took a step back but as he noticed his father raising his arm he moved to cover that side of his backside which, unfortunately for him, left him angled enough for the other half of his backside to be a perfect target.
"Then maybe you should remember that!" *CRACK, CRACK* "I understand that you're in a tough position especially with Danny right now. Yes, he went about it the wrong way but all that boy wants is to know that you," *CRACK, CRACK* "as his dad," *CRACK, CRACK* "had his back."
Frank had realized his father's intentions and had moved to matched Henry step for step. Unfortunately Henry's reach was longer then he remembered and the older man managed to get several good smacks in. It was also unfortunate that Henry had more experience in administering punishments then Frank had at escaping them because Henry had managed to box Frank into the corner of the sink where he couldn't get out without pushing the older man out of his way.
"I get it pop." Frank said trying to keep his hands in the spoons path so it couldn't fall.
"Do you?" Henry demanded. "You're so intent on not giving those kids special treatment that they work ten times harder than any three other members of the NYPD and get nothing for it. And they're not asking for anything!"
Henry brought the spoon down randomly, catching his son off guard.
"This stops Francis. You make this right. I don't care how but you make this right! Do you understand me?"
"Yeah, alright pop." Frank answered a note of petulance he'll never admit to in his tone.
In that instant Frank reminds Henry of Danny and all he can do is shake his head. In situations like this 'alright' is not an acceptable answer for anyone. It never has been and it never will be.
Frank isn't given a chance to realize his mistake. Henry managed to angle him, through a mixture of Frank not being willing to fight his father and Henry being stronger then Frank thought, and brought the spoon down a dozen time in a quick flurry of smacks.
The quick, yet well aimed, smacks are enough to have Frank's whole demeanor changing. He'd forgotten that this felt like and wished he'd never had to remember.
"I understand," Frank finally gave in as his tried to wiggle around the older man without accidently pushing him, "Pop, I understand."
Henry stopped and leveled his son with a steely gaze. "Then understand this, I am not asking you to give Danny what he wants. What I am telling you to do is to fix this situation. It takes two to argue Francis and you are supposed to be the parent. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir," Frank answered, looking his father in the eyes the way he'd been taught long ago.
"You will apologize to the family for your behavior today." Henry waved the spoon in front of Frank warningly, "And you will apologize to Jamie for taking your temper out on him. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Yes, sir," Frank answered again and while he continued to look his father in the eyes, this time he also flushed with shame.
"The dishes won't finish themselves." Henry put the spoon down and walked back to the table. "And clean up the glass before you step in it."
"Yes sir," Frank replied for a third time as he grabbed what he needed to clean up the broken glass, embarrassment over the childish chastisement coloring his face. He was quick to finish the dishes, anything to get away from his father's watchful gaze.
As he did the last dish that had to be hand washed, he set the dishwasher to start and turned to look at his father who had yet to put down the paper.
"Good night Francis." Henry said, looking over the edge of the paper finally.
Frank opened his mouth to protest about a still stinging backside had him saying instead, "Good night pop."
As he made his way upstairs he consoled himself with the thought that an early night was probably needed. Besides he had some reading to do and some plans on how to apologize to Jamie to make. Also there was Danny to deal with and...well, actually, just because he couldn't tell Danny what was going on didn't mean he couldn't let Erin tell him the way she had wanted...right?
THE END