"Maybe you won't believe me, Donald," Red said after a while. "But I do like you. You have character traits, beliefs, values, and principles for which I feel respect, even if they were often directed against me. And I liked you long before this moment. To learn now that you are my son surprises me, but I'm not shocked," he pointed out. "This child means a lot to me. It has always meant a lot to me. I always had the hope I would find it one day and hold it my arms." He smiled wistfully. "Of course, I thought it would be a daughter, not a son, or even twins, but it doesn't change anything, Donald. I LOVE THIS CHILD," he stressed.
It was too much. Simply too much. To his anger and his shame Don wasn't able to hold back his tears anymore. Was there anything more embarrassing than to cry in front of your own father? But the situation was so prodigious that he wasn't able to control himself.
Red had the impression he could feel Donald's inner pain, and he felt hurt himself. Above all, he felt guilty. Of course, they had been played. But his child had been hurt because of him. He also felt ashamed in an uncertain manner. There was nothing left at him his son could have been proud of.
He pulled Donald closer, kissed him fatherly on the forehead, then took him in his arms, and held him very tight. The awareness of that he finally held his child, THIS child in his arms filled him with warmth and made him happy. It didn't feel strange or unfamiliar at all when he caressed Donald's shoulders and hair to comfort him.
Involuntarily Don moved closer, hid his face at Red's shoulder, and held on to him until the pain abated. But he didn't move. Instead, he tried to understand. That wasn't Reddington, the criminal, who embraced him, it was his Dad! As a child Don had had that dream that his father hadn't died at sea but would come back one day and embrace him. This dream had come true now - but with the wrong father! He felt safe and well, though, and it surprised him.
"The worst feeling is that I don't know what was for real and what was a fake," he said after a while. That's how Liz had to feel, he realized, not to know who her real parents were and what had happened in her early childhood. "How can someone do something like that? Create a whole family story in order to get some secret papers?"
"I wish I could tell you," Red replied with a deep sigh.
"Is Liz my sister?"
Was Donald in love with her? Yesterday Red wouldn't have been happy about it but right now it felt great, like a warming spark of hope for a better future. Liz could be his daughter-in-law one day, the mother of his grandchild... "No, she's not your sister. She's - probably - the daughter of Moby Dick."
Don received the answer with relief. It would have felt too strange being her brother. He didn't want to be her brother.
"And it hurts to know that it could have saved me from the hell I had to go through," he admitted for the first time in his life. "When there is one thing I know about you for sure, it's that you would never hurt a child."
Red pricked his ears. "Who hurt you? Your stepfather?"
Don nodded without looking at Red. "He was violent. His rules were extremely strict, and if you violated them - and many were so strict that you had no choice than to violate them - then..." Being beaten up regularly had intensified his wish - or the wish he had been made believe he had - to become a cop because he had wanted to learn how to protect himself and others who couldn't help themselves. In the beginning it had been a lot more important to him than to chase people like Reddington but of course, such a case was conducive for the career.
If Don had looked up, he would have seen Red's killing glance. Donald's stepfather was lucky that he had died a few years ago of cancer. Otherwise, Red would have paid him a visit.
"And the missed possibilities...," Don said sadly. "Regardless of what you've become, I think you had been a good father."
It brought tears to Red's eyes. Donald was right. He would have loved it to be his father, father of these twins, would have loved it to raise them, to see them growing up. And he felt touched because Donald was able to see his good qualities, too, not only the bad ones.
"It would have been nice," he agreed. "I bet, you were a sweet, little boy." He smiled pensively and dared to caress Donald's cheek, that still was a little wet from the tears. "We would have played soccer in the garden. Built a tree house. Gone for fishing and sailing. And I would have bored you to death with all my stories." He chuckled lightly, then sighed blessedly while he imagined all the things they could have done together.
It almost made Don cry again. Yes, all that could have been possible if it hadn't been taken away from them. "Instead, we belong to different worlds now and stand on different sides," he remarked bitterly.
Red put a finger under Donald's chin and made him softly to lift the head and look at him. "But we can find out together, why all that happened and who is responsible for it."
"I can't be the leading case agent anymore," Don said in despair. It was another aspect that made him unhappy. He had worked so hard, and now he would have to leave the task force.
"Donald, if you tell anyone that you are my son, the FBI will not only reassign you from the case but expatriate you for the rest of your career. The only thing they will let you do will be working cold cases or something like that," Red warned him insistently. "And the last thing I want is that you have to suffer because of me. What you have been through is enough. They will distrust you - simply because you are my child. I do not want you to pay for my sins," he stressed.
Don hesitated. Red was presumably right. And he already had breached the protocol more than one time. He had hidden his addiction, he had covered up Liz' felony and had lied for her - to his boss and the general attorney. Could it be worse? He also wanted to get to the bottom of this mess, wanted to find out whether his twin sister and maybe even his mother were still alive. "Okay," he said quietly.
Red nodded. The new knowledge might be a lead to "Moby Dick". Then he would need Lizzy - and Lizzy needed Donald. The three of them simply had to stay together to solve, finally, the puzzle that had brought them together.
"And I thank you for not hating me," Red said, deeply moved. "I can't find the right words for telling you what it means to me." He kissed Donald on the cheeks and took him in his arms once more, held him very tight. His child. He still couldn't believe that he found, finally, one of his lost children.
In this very moment Red decided not only to find "Moby Dick" but also to fight for having a relationship with his son. For Donald this might be inconceivable at the moment, because the dutiful federal agent wasn't able to imagine it, but Red didn't want to accept the line between them. There had to be a way, and he would find it.
