Soo, this is chapter 2! Sorry about the wait, haha. I hope you all like this update though :)
I don't own.


Glen
-x-

He's sitting on the barstool, elbows on the granite counter, a coffee – black – cradled in his hands. Sunlight pours through the kitchen window, and he watches the dust particles floating in the silence. The house creaks along with his bones as he rolls his shoulders, turning his head when he hears the front door open.

...

"I love you," Eli whispers, smiling into the kiss.

"I love you too," Clare giggles, holding him tighter. "Now go, before you eat up your entire life-savings…" she nods towards the horse and carriage, still lounging outside.

"I love you," he says low, running a hand through her curls. "I," kiss, "love," kiss, "you."

She smiles wider, blushing hard as he clasps her hand once more before he leaves. The second door opens, and Glen considers running back upstairs before Clare sees him, but decides to let things play out.

...

She comes in, face beaming, eyes alight. But seeing him, her face falls instantly.

"Glen," she squeaks to his back, hand to her heart. He's still turned away from her, so she can't see his grin. "We were just-" she stammers, "we were just, umm, ahh, I mean-"

He finally looks over his shoulder at her, his eyebrow arched sternly.

"Clare," he grunts, and almost can't go through with it, seeing the look of pure terror on her face. "Do you want some cereal?" he asks.

Clare blinks.

Then seeing her step-dad's completely smug smile, she breaks into nervous laughter. He joins in a moment later, which only makes her laugh harder.

"Have a seat," Glen says, patting the stool beside him. Clare does, adjusting Eli's jacket around her again. "We have…Rice Krispies, uhh, Fibre 1, but I don't think you want that…Lucky Charms…Jake likes those, but I won't tell if you want a bowl…so not much," he chuckles warmly. "I can make you oatmeal if you want, too."

Clare smiles, curling a strand of hair in her fingers. "Can I have some Honey Nut Cheerios? They're behind the Rice Krispies."

Glen frowns, but it looks more like a pout. He reaches down, pushing the Rice Krispies aside, and ahhhhs as he pulls out the Cheerios.

"One bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios," he smiles back, putting down the bowl to grab the milk from the fridge.

He pours the cereal, getting her a spoon as well. Clare thanks him, and after she's had a few bites, she notices the silence. The kind of silence that she recognizes as a question, but she doesn't think she can give Glen the satisfaction of bringing up what they both knew she'd been doing…or who she had been, for that matter.

Just when she feels like she can't stand his smirking face eyeing her any longer, he speaks.

"So…good night, Clare?" Oh, he's totally enjoying her embarrassment.

"Yep," Clare answers, scrounging up the courage to look him in the eye. "Perfect, actually."

His eyes glow with mirth at her challenge, but just as quickly, they fill with concern.

"Clare, your nose is bleeding-"

And then she feels the thickness trailing down into her mouth.

"It's nothing, really-" she tries to say, but she knows instantly, that it's worse than before. "I had one earlier, it's no big deal-" But as the blood trickles down her hands, she can't stop her voice from shaking.

"Here," he says softly, grabbing some paper towels. But she soaks through them instantly. He swallows deeply. "I'm getting your mother-"

"Stay?" Clare whispers before she can realize it. "Please."

"Okay," he soothes, rubbing her back. "Okay." He calls for Helen, and Clare doesn't let go of his hand until it stops.


-x-

His first instinct is to run. Run as far and as fast away from this pain as possible.

Cancer.

He holds Helen, partly because Clare hasn't ever really allowed him to hug her, and partly because he doesn't know what else to do.

"Everything's going to be okay," he gets out later, reaching a hand towards her shoulder, but not quite touching. He nearly crumbles from the look of hatred on Clare's face, like she can't believe he couldn't at least try to look like he believed it.


-x-

He stays longer at work, takes extra shifts. Helen voices her concerns to him in the dead of night, like Clare cutting off her hair and wearing neon wigs, etc. and Glen tells her to let Clare deal with it how she needs to deal with it. Helen huffs and tells him she needs his support and then bursts into tears. He makes oatmeal at the crack of dawn, but it burns, so he leaves a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios out instead. Nobody sees him until it's time for dinner, but even then he stays on a job for just a little bit longer.


-x-

He comes down the stairs to his son, eating a bowl of Lucky Charms against the granite countertop and fuming.

"Dad," Jake manages calmly, taking another bite.

"Jake? What happened? Why aren't you in B.C.?" He stops, almost like there's an invisible wall of tension between them.

"I decided to come back home, you know, once I heard Clare had cancer." Jake continues to spoon through his cereal.

Glen reaches back to scratch his neck. "I don't know what you want me to say-"

"Just shut up," Jake snarks. "Just shut up, dad," he finishes quietly, taking the final bite of his cereal.

In a way, Glen knew this day was coming. Jake had always been a soldier more than his son. Yes dad, sure dad, okay dad, whatever makes you happy dad, that's alright dad, don't worry dad…blind faith in him – who was there, but never fully. Maybe, Glen wonders, maybe Jake was just tired of taking orders.

"She's sick, Jake-"

"I know," he snaps, throwing his bowl into the sink. "But she's going to be fine. No help from you of course."

Glen sighs painfully.

"I'm going to bed," Jake says, though it's just to fill the air. "Tomorrow, I'm going to visit her. You can come, or you can stay. I don't care."

"So, you're staying here now?" Glen asks.

Jake just shakes his head, before walking up the stairs.


-x-

He thinks of speaking to Jake. He thinks of comforting Clare.

Then he remembers how Jake practically raised himself, and how Clare basically popped into this world mature, and he thinks it isn't fair of him to try and start raising them now.


-x-

He waits outside the room, like he always does, while Clare's having her tests. Jake, Helen, Eli, and Katie (he's sure that's her name, Jake hasn't told him about her) wait inside, talking amongst themselves. They seem to switch shifts with a kid named Adam and his brother Drew, who aren't here today.

There's a way in which they all stand together; everything seems to be alright. And Glen can't tell if it's because he's supposed to be there, or if it's because they don't need him at all.

"She needs a dad," Jake says low, when they're driving back home from work together. It's one of the few things the boy's said to him all month.

"She has a dad," Glen answers roughly, and instantly regrets it.

"She needs you," Jake shrugs, and Glen knows that his son hasn't forgiven him, but it's all he can offer him just yet.

Glen takes a breath, deciding he'd rather stay than run for about the eighth time in his whole damn life.

"Hey," he says quietly, rapping on the door before making his way inside.

He thinks he'd have done it anyway – because if anyone showed him what it means to be a good dad, it's his son – but he can't deny that the look on Clare's and Jake's and Helen's faces, make it all worth it.


-x-

"I brought you some magazines," Glen smiles brightly, and Clare still doesn't have the heart to tell him she'd much rather read SEVENTEEN, TIME and COSMO than PEOPLE and STAR (which she knows he just takes from Helen).

He's over almost all the time now, and on her worst days, Clare wishes he'd sit in denial at work like he used to, if only to give her some breathing room. She supposes it's because she's not used to all of the attention; good attention from her parents at least.

He listens though (better than mom) and seems to get that she's a freaking teen and needs a break now and again. He's really easy to talk to, she finds, and laughs whenever she has to explain some new lingo to him.

"Apparently, I'm not hip with the kids," he smirks one time, and Clare sees where Jake gets a lot of his mannerisms, though she won't tell him. It's one of those things you keep close for comfort.

He spoils her, and at first she puts up a fuss. But then he reminds her, when they're having one of their long talks, that it's his job, and that it's okay to be taken care of sometimes.

She's sad that the first time she allows him to really hug her is after she's puked and her face is soaked in snot and tears.


-x-

"I tried to get a hold of Jake," he confesses one night, when Clare's tucked in her hospital bed. "Before he flew back." She looks at him, betrayal slicing through her features.

"You promised you wouldn't-" she starts.

"I know," he says. "I'm sorry."

Clare looks like she wishes he would stop talking. Like she doesn't want to have to tell him that he was just doing his job, because she's tired of being the adult. But she's too polite to say anything.

Instead, he asks, "Did you really think I'd keep it from him forever?" and winks.

Clare smiles sheepishly. "I was hoping you would," she laughs. There's a pause. "So, what happened?"

Glen coughs. "Well, he doesn't use Skype…or email really. And he didn't take his phone with him. I sent him a letter…"

Clare's eyes widen. "He didn't get a letter though. He told me."

Glen nods. "It got sent back. He moved around too much for it to be delivered in time." And he stiffens, because for the first time since his wife died, he feels a tear rolling down his cheek.

Clare grabs his hand. "You're a good dad, Glen," she swears, giving him her most tender of Clare-smiles.

He chuckles. "And you're a wonderful daughter, Clare."


-x-

He walks in on his son blazing in the basement, with only the moon to light his way.

"Jake?" he asks carefully, about to turn on the light when the boy groans. "What's wrong?"

Jake doesn't answer. So instead of telling him to remember to snuff out his joint before coming to bed like usual, Glen walks over, and sits beside him on the couch. He waits.

"She's gone," Jake rasps, taking another drag.

"Who?" Glen asks, though he's pretty sure of the answer. He expected it to be like pulling teeth, but Jake's words just tumble out.

"Katie. She's going to California. Tomorrow."

Glen nods, knowing it's best to just let Jake do the talking.

"School's starting. So she's gone."

Glen takes a breath. "For how long?"

"Till Christmas, she thinks. Or maybe Thanksgiving."

Glen's brow furrows. "You know you can't follow her, right?"

Jake laughs, coughing as the smoke bursts out his mouth. "Yeah."

Glen moves to touch him, but Jake stiffens.

"I live here," Jake states roughly. "I'm here. Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn't leave Clare. I wouldn't leave…this is where I'm supposed to be. Katie gets it. She gets that."

"Are you angry with her?"

"Yeah." Jake murmurs. Then: "No. She stayed as long as she could. And it's not like it was a picnic leaving for her either. With Maya here, and Clare, and Marisol…and…"

"And you?" Glen finishes, sadly. Jake doesn't answer.

It's back and forth between them with the joint, compromising about work and school, and reminiscing about a few bittersweet memories before Glen gets up to leave for bed. "Jake?" he says, before stepping on the stairs. "It'll all work out. One day." He taps the doorframe, when his son still doesn't answer him.

He's about halfway up the stairs when he hears "Thanks, dad," forgiveness laced in every tone.

"Goodnight Jake," he answers gruffly.

He remembers to hoard some cash for his son's 'California' jar in his own sock drawer (he knows Jake will never accept it, but he might as well try) before crawling into bed beside Helen, and pressing a kiss to her temple.


-x-

She's thin and wiry, and pale and sickly, but Glen envelopes her in a bear hug, telling her how beautiful she is. And this time, he nearly crumbles from the look of pure adoration on Clare's face, like she wouldn't believe him if he told her any different. He's about to sit down on the chair beside her hospital bed, Helen in toe, when he hears something that catches him entirely off guard. Something that he thinks he would've been happy to hear under any other circumstances.

"Dad!" Clare shouts happily, opening her arms up to Mr. Edwards in the doorway. And Glen doesn't know what to do about the pang in his heart, the one that's telling him to run as far and as fast as he can from here.

He swears Clare's smile is the only thing that makes him stay that day.


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