"Gabe is alive."
"You're sure that it's him?"
"DNA confirmed it."
"Gabe is alive? My brother is alive?"
"Yes."
"I want to see him."
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Wilhelmina warns.
"Why not?"
"He looks pretty bad. He doesn't even look like Gabe."
"I still want to see him."
"He's not even awake."
"I don't care. I want to see him."
"Nico why don't you wait? Get settled, and come see him in the morning."
"Ok. How did Greyson take it?"
"He didn't want to see him."
"Why not?"
"He said that he couldn't handle seeing Gabe like that."
"How bad is he?"
"I had to fly in from New York because Greyson couldn't identify him. His face is swollen, and bruised..." she stops trying to regain her composure.
"It's ok."
"No it's not ok."
"Calm down. It will be ok."
"Nico he might not ever wake up, and even if he does he might never even be able to take care of himself."
"What do you mean?"
"The doctor said that he had some brain damage. Which isn't entirely surprising considering that he was a prisoner of war for nearly four years."
"So what does that mean, exactly?"
"It means that someone is probably going to have to take care of him for the rest of his life."
"Gabe wouldn't like that."
"No," Wilhelmina agrees.
"Who? Who is going to take care of him? I'm sure that Greyson doesn't have time to do that."
"He'll probably want to hire someone to take care of him."
"Gabe is his son."
"And Greyson has only ever wanted to spend time with Gabe when it was convenient for him."
"So if he has to be taken care of for the rest of his life you're ok with hiring someone to do it?"
"No," she answers.
"What choice do you have?"
"I'll do it myself. He's my son, I'd do the same for you."
"You can't take care of him, you don't have the time."
"Then I'd have to make it."
"How? With all of the crazy hours you work?"
"If it came down to it I guess I'd have to quit."
"Quit? Mode is your life."
"Sometimes you have to change your priorities."
"I guess."
"Nico I'm sorry if I ever made you feel..."
"As if you loved Gabe more?"
"I didn't...love him more."
"I know that. He was much easier to spend time with than I ever was."
"It's not an excuse. I'm your mother, it shouldn't have mattered."
"I'll admit that I was jealous of Gabe as a kid."
"I know. Do you remember the Christmas when you were five?"
"And he was eight, and I tried to run over him with my toy corvette."
"So you do remember that?"
"Of course, but in my defense he did deserve that."
"Really?"
"Maybe not as much as I thought then, but he did."
"What did he do to you?"
"He cut all of my Barbie's hair off."
"So you thought he deserved to be run over?"
"What else was I going to do? He was bigger than I was."
"That's true."
"Mom..."
"Hm?"
"I have to tell you something."
"What Nico?"
"I got a letter from Gabe a week before the explosion."
"You never told me that."
"Because I felt guilty."
"Why would you feel guilty?"
"Because he was scared. He thought that something big was about to happen. I thought that he was just trying to get attention."
"Can I ask you something?"
"I guess."
"Nico why didn't you come to the funeral?"
"He was my brother..."
"I know, you should have been there."
"I didn't want my last memory of him to be in a casket. I wasn't ready to let go of him. He was my older brother, my hero."
"I don't know if you should see him."
"I can handle it," Nico promises.
"He looks... just by looking at him I didn't know that it was him."
"He's been through a lot."
"I should be able to take one look at him and know instantly... I'm his mother."
"You're not a superhero."
Wilhelmina says nothing.
"How long are you here for?" Nico questions.
"I took a week of. I doubt that he'll even be awake then, but I can't take off any more time without an explanation."
"I'll stay with him. I don't mind."
"Won't Jonathan be upset?"
"No," she chuckles, "He's out of the picture."
"What happened?"
"He's a jerk," she admits.
"I'm sorry," she says softly.
"Don't be," her daughter answers.