A/n: I decided that I should give this a little more thought and finish it through, there will be four parts in total.

x-x-x

I was eight when I found the photo, and sixteen when I met my mother, now I'm eighteen and I'm standing in front of the reason I grew up without my mother. Ian Doyle. He's not much of a man, but from the stories I've heard about him I don't doubt him by looks alone. Ian doesn't know who I am, or why I'm standing in front of him besides some dumb teenager landed on his doorstep asking for help with his car. Ian shook his head and said he would screw it up more.

"Come on man, no one owning that car in your drive would screw up my crappy Honda more than its already screwed." He sighs and follows me to the street. I guess I should go back and start from the top, on how we got here.

x-x-x

After coming back from Paris I was convinced no one was doing enough to bring Emily home. No one was out there hunting for Doyle, so when I turned seventeen and mom was away seeing Emily I left. I started hunting him. I found him in Boston, where Emily last saw him. He lived in a small house just off the main road, alone. I followed him for weeks sleeping in my car keeping track of his every move. After a week I could tell you his normal day, till the day he threw me way off track by visiting a grave yard. I followed him to see where he was going, and listened as he talked to the headstone.

"Why didn't you just tell me Lauren? I could have my little boy in my arms right now! " The man started crying and I felt bad, he was after all just a human like all of us. "I just want to see him Lauren."

"She wants to see her son too." I say stepping out into the light, Doyle looks at me.

"She had no children." He said looking sad.

"I'm her son."

"You… no she had no children!" Doyle stood up and moved toward me looking me up and down.

"She did, and I hope she misses me very much."

"You never showed up in any files!" I look at him and chuckle.

"I wouldn't be in any files, she never legally adopted me and my father was put on my birth certificate."

"I don't understand." He looks so sad that I pity him.

"She was with my mother… when you killed her. I was two."

"I…"

"I found this when I was eight, it made my mother cry, and my father upset." I take out the photo of the team showing him. "I hid it till I was sixteen scared that it would make my mom cry again." Doyle looks over the photo and smiles.

"You look a lot like my son you know?"

"I'm not your son, I'm her's."

"My boy would be much older than you I hope that where ever he is he is something strong, maybe a lawyer or cop. He has the genes for it." Doyle looks up at me.

"You look a lot like your mother, you are just as brave as her, I didn't kill her because of you." Doyle sighs and hands the photo back. "No child should be without a parent, and while she was on the case she never returned home so I couldn't find you, or her who I thought was her husband, so I didn't kill her. Instead I changed my tactics. All because of you."

"You know nothing about my mother."

"I know a lot about your moms." Doyle smiles a sick smile. "More than any boy would want to know about their mom."

"Doyle… I'm here to arrest you…" I say… more like whisper as I become nervous.

"What was that son? I couldn't hear you."

"You are under arrest for killing my mom."

"You are just a child, and I," He pulls out a gun. "Am a man, I came prepared, did you really think you could follow me and I wouldn't notice?" I stare at the gun. "You better pray that your mommy comes rushing over that hill soon boy or you'll be meeting your mom very soon." He cocks the gun and I stop breathing.