FOUR YEARS EARLIER

"Daniel," the receptionist greeted him with a smile. "Nick will be glad to see you back so soon."

"I promised him I'd stop by after a conference I went to," he smiled at her, signing in. He was a regular visitor, he knew the drill. "How's he doing?"

"He's having a good day. You coming by will make it better." She buzzed the doors open. "I believe he's in the courtyard."

He thanked her and breezed through the doors, politely waving at the residents that recognized him. Just as he'd been told, Daniel found Nick on a bench in the courtyard talking with another patient.

"Hey, Nick!" Daniel called as he approached.

"Mijn kleinzoon!" Nick smiled and waved him over.

"We're speaking Dutch today?" Daniel asked, switching languages to accommodate.

"This is Alice, she comes from your ancestral lands," Nick introduced his friend grandly.

"A very fancy way of saying I am Dutch as well," she smiled warmly at him.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Daniel, I know," Alice finished for him, shaking his hand. "Nick speaks of your quite often."

"Not sure how I fell about that," Daniel joked.

"He didn't tell me how handsome you were," she continued.

"He needs a haircut," Nick interrupted.

"And a good meal," she added. "You are too skinny. Does your wife not feed you?"

"I'm not married," Daniel admitted.

"He's still a boy," Nick admonished Alice. "And, most importantly, he is a Ballard. Ballard men do not settle until we are ready."

"From what I see, Ballard men don't settle at all," she shot back.

"Only when it is time," Nick insisted.

"What time do you have left, you old fool?"

"Did I interrupt?" Daniel asked carefully. With Nick, there was a fine line between banter and anger, especially with whatever woman he was flirting with at the time.

"Do yourself a favor and don't waste your time," Nick told him emphatically. "Women are never grateful for what you give them."

"Nick," Daniel started.

"Leave me to my grandson," Nick ignored him and addressed Alice. "Before you smother him, too."

She huffed, exasperated. She mumbled a Dutch insult that didn't translate to anything sensible Daniel could come up with. "I will see you for dinner?" she asked Nick.

"Of course," he seemed insulted that she thought he might not join her.

Satisfied, she nodded. "It was nice to meet you," she said to Daniel as she left with a smile.

"You, too," he called after her, and then to Nick, "Did she just call you a tuberculosis acorn? Or did I completely misunderstand?"

"Never settle for a woman who won't stand up for herself," Nick told him. "A real woman has fire; a real man embraces her fire."

"So, we're not going to talk about the acorn thing?" Daniel sat on the bench next to Nick.

"Passion and strength," Nick kept going. "That's what you need in a woman. Not these little girls who beg for your attention and follow you around like a puppy."

"Are you talking about Sarah?" Daniel asked an edge in his tone.

"If she cannot spend an evening without you there to validate her she is a little girl- not a woman."

"Knock it off," Daniel warned. "You don't like Sarah, I get it. But, you don't get a vote. Understand?"

"You shouldn't marry a girl like that."

"Who's talking about marriage? We're dating. Besides, weren't you just telling Alice that Ballard men don't settle?"

"It's the Jackson half I worry about," Nick said with a gleam in his eye.

Smirking, Daniel rolled his eyes. Nick loved getting in a good shot at his father. Just to get the blood flowing. Daniel could distantly remember the sarcastic and good-natured arguments Nick and his father would get into. The Dutch vs the Welsh, Mayan vs. Egyptian, father vs. son-in-law. Every topic they took opposite sides, challenging the other to a battle of wits. No one ever won. No one ever lost. Everyone always laughed.

"If the Jackson half is so hopeless what does it mean that Mom married one?" Daniel asked, rising to the bait. He wasn't as good at it as his father had been, but he was working on it.

"Momentary fit of insanity, I suppose," Nick answered. "Apparently it runs in the family."

"Not funny." Daniel didn't like it when Nick joked about mental health.

"It isn't," Nick agreed, sighing. "But it is apparently true."

"You read it?" Daniel asked. He had been hopeful when he sent Nick a copy of his paper. Now he already regretted it. "What did you think?" he asked carefully.

Nick stared at a cloud in the distance, thinking before answering. "It was well written," he started. "Thoughtfully researched."

"You think so?" Maybe hope was the right reaction. "I wanted to leave it a bit open-ended. Not try to change the world, just start the discussion."

"You did well to emphasize it is only a theory."

"Exactly. I can't fully prove it, yet," Daniel allowed himself to get excited. "But here is a fair amount of evidence pointing to-"

"You mustn't publish it," Nick cut him off sternly.

"You just said it was well written and thoughtfully researched." Daniel was crestfallen.

"It is. You have a great talent for the written word. But, you cannot claim aliens built the pyramids and expect to be taken seriously."

"That's why it's a theory," Daniel insisted. "I'm not saying it's absolutely true, though I think it is, I'm saying it's a possibility."

"You will be laughed out of every respectable academic circle there is."

"Nick, if no one puts an idea out there then we can never move forward as a society. Prove me wrong; prove me right, it doesn't matter. The point is to keep the conversation going, to keep people thinking outside the box. To keep us from getting complacent."

"Which you do quite well, Daniel," Nick told him. "You have always been able to see what no one else can. It is a great gift."

"Just one I'm supposed to keep quiet about."

"This time, yes."

"Why?" Daniel demanded.

"Because you will ruin everything you have worked your entire life for."

"Don't be melodramatic, Nick."

"I am speaking from experience. If you publish that paper you will be a laughing stock."

"Not if I can prove I'm right. And I can. I will," he insisted.

"The only thing you will prove is that a fool begat a fool," Nick snapped at him. "A crazy old man and a crazy boy."

"Skipped a generation there, Nick, didn't ya?"

"Oh, your mother. Your poor mother. You would do such a thing to her memory?" Nick put his head in his hands.

"And my theories are such an insult?" Daniel balked. "More than you and our damn skull?"

"Because of me and that damn skull." They were yelling now. Each as bad as the other.

"I'm not you, Nick."

"But you are making the same mistake. Just listen to me."

"Why? Why should I have to listen to you? I'm good at what I do. I'm damn good." He slammed his fist on the bench. "You can't hold me responsible for your mistakes."

"I am holding you responsible for yours," Nick pointed is fingers in his grandson's face. "Drop this nonsense."

"It's not nonsense."

"It is."

Daniel shook his head and scowled, refusing to get into an is-not-is-too argument. They were attracting enough attention as it was.

"Daniel," Nick said quietly, kindly. "Even if you are right-"

"I am."

"Regardless. Right or wrong is not the issue. Archaeology is not ready for this. It doesn't matter how well written."

"Of all people, I thought you would be behind me on this."

"I will be behind you on anything else you do. But not this."

"I am going to publish it," Daniel said resolutely.

"Stubborn, spoiled little…" Nick mumbled angrily.

"Spoiled," Daniel snorted.

"You act it."

"I worked my ass off for everything I have. I had to pull all this off on my own. No one handed me this."

"All on your own, did you?"

"Yeah."

"Do you really think the son of Mel and Claire Jackson wasn't going to catch anyone's attention? How many times did your family show up on the syllabus? How many papers of theirs were you assigned to read? How many times was their work discussed in lectures?"

Daniel didn't answer. He'd spent years banking on how common the name Jackson was, ducking in his seat when professors got the details wrong. When he knew better because he had been there.

"You benefit from their hard work," Nick told him. "You stand on what they built. They opened the doors for you." Nick put a hand up to keep Daniel from interrupting. "You did great things when you got inside. You've earned your place. And you will continue to do amazing things, but if you insist on this foolishness you will ruin far more than your own reputation."

"You didn't."

"Grief can do many things to a man," Nick said looking Daniel in the eye. "I'm not proud."

"You lecture me about tarnishing their reputation, but take advantage of it for yourself," Daniel was dumbfounded.

"I did it for you."

"You never did anything for me," Daniel snapped.

"This again," Nick threw his hands up. "Always this again."

"This again," Daniel repeated. "Until you give me a reason."

"I will not have this discussion again."

"We've never had this discussion. I ask and you change the subject," he accused.

"There is nothing to say."

"Nothing to say? You always have something to say. You have an opinion on everything."

"Which you ask for and then ignore."

Daniel went quiet again, blood boiling.

"Let us not fight," Nick said resolutely. "No more of this."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," Daniel did his best to keep his tone even and calm. "You always change the subject."

"Because living in the past will do us no good. We must stay in the present and rejoice in what we do have," Nick tried to give Daniel an encouraging smile. "Tell me, how did your lecture go?"

"I didn't speak at this one, I just went," Daniel admitted. "It was regarding South American exploration. I went for you, remember?"

"Do you have any lectures booked?" Nick always knew how to zero in on Daniel's short-comings.

"Not right now," he sighed.

"You don't publish, you don't speak? How will anyone know what you are working on? How do you expect to make a living?"

"I have something to publish," Daniel pointed out. "Which will lead to speaking engagements."

"You have been working on something else?"

"No."

"You waste your talents."

"Do I?" Daniel asked. "Or do I not work on what you want me to? You tell me to come up with something original, to make my discovery. And when I do, you tell me to shut up and get back in line. You tell me to carry on the family name, to follow in your footsteps and when I do you tell me I'm ruining everything."

"Now who's being melodramatic?"

"Nothing I ever do is good enough for you." Daniel looked away, chewing on his bottom lip.

"You do this job for me?"

"That's not what I said."

"Then tell me. What do you mean?"

"I don't… I don't know," Daniel admitted. His head always got so muddled around Nick.

"Then how should anyone else?"

Defeated, Daniel put his elbows on his knees, studying his scuffed loafers.

"You still think you're going to publish that stupid paper," Nick accused him.

"It's not stupid, or foolish, or nonsense," he defended himself weakly.

"What would your parents think?" Nick tried a different tactic. "Their son, the boy they love so much, making such a mistake? How would this make them feel?"

Something in Daniel snapped, his blood boiled, his face went red, and his back went rigid. "Oh, no. No. You don't get to do that," he spat at Nick. "You don't get to pull them into this."

"Oh? I worry for my Claire. I worry for her son. This is my right."

"Yeah? You think so? Where was that worry when I was eight, huh? When you abandoned me?"

"I did not abandon you!"

"You left me with complete strangers instead of worrying about what Mom would think. You left me in a world I knew nothing about, completely alone. How do you think she felt about that, huh? If you didn't think about it then, I don't have to think about it now."

"I did what I thought was best."

"You did what was easy."

"My life was no way to raise a boy."

"Mom and Dad thought it was okay. I'm sure they felt it was the right thing."

"It was different for them."

"How? That's how you raised Mom. That's how she was raising me. How is it different?"

"What do you want from me? An apology? I have nothing to apologize to you for."

Daniel rolled his eyes, looking away.

Nick sighed, "I am only asking you to consider how your parents would feel when…"

"You want to know how Mom feels?" Daniel asked, no longer able to contain his anger and frustration. Nick hurt him- he wanted to hurt Nick back. "You want to know what she thinks about all this? Nothing. She's dead. She doesn't feel anything."

Nick slapped him. Hard. "Self-righteous little brat," he growled. "How dare you."

"It's true," Daniel stood his ground, even though he already knew he was wrong. He crossed the line. He deserved what he got.

Orderlies appeared at their bench, an argument was one thing, but they couldn't let it get physical. "Dr. Ballard," one of them asked. "What's going on?"

"Get him out of here," Nick told them, first in Dutch, then correcting to English.

"Are you alright?" the second orderly asked Daniel.

"I'm fine, I was just leaving," Daniel stood up, embarrassed that he let it get this far. That he let Nick get under his skin.

"If you publish that rubbish, don't come back," Nick told him.

"What?" Daniel stared down at him, unable to process what he had just heard.

"You heard me."

Daniel scowled down at Nick. "The one thing you ever taught me how to do. Leave."