-Mean-

-9-

Sweet heart,

Bitter heart,

Now I can't tell you apart.

-- "1, 2, 3, 4," Feist

Kristina Davis poked her head into the Webbers' tree house and promptly ducked back down when a coffee crate came flying at her head. It shattered against the wall behind her, spraying broken bits of wood everywhere, and she straightened only when everything settled.

Jake was pacing in jerky, agitated circles and had clearly kicked the crate in a rage. Kristina was familiar with his moods and hoisted herself up. She was getting almost too big to fit in here – her head was just an inch away from the ceiling when she stood to her full height. The tree house still worked for thirteen-year-olds, but at sixteen she was pushing it.

"Hey."

Jake glanced over at her but didn't say anything, continuing to pace. His tree house was in shambles, but the destruction hadn't appeared to calm him down any.

She picked her way past bits of wood until she stood a few feet away from him. "You okay?"

He glared at her and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Fine."

Kristina was used to his defense mechanisms and walked over to the window. She sat down on the little sill, crammed into the window and safely tucked out of the way, and watched him pace some more. "Something happened."

Jake heaved a heavy sigh. "I saw him again this morning."

"Uh-oh." She tucked her dark hair behind her ear. Jake was always agitated after particularly fortuitous run-ins with his father. He was the kind of boy that liked to have the upper hand; when he ran into Jason unexpectedly, it threw him off center. "What happened?"

"I went over to Morgan's to pick up Teague," he said, referring to his dog of five years. "He's trying to convince his mom to get him and CeeCee a dog, so he babysits ours sometimes if me and Cam have plans."

He kicked at a piece of wood and watched it scuttle to the other side of the tree house. "Jason was there."

Her dark, solemn eyes followed him as he moved restlessly. "Yeah?"

"He was sitting in the living room in Mister Jacks's chair, laughing and drinking soda with Morgan," he scowled. "They were talking about graduation and high school next year and all that stuff, and you should have seen his face when I walked in. He was laughing and smiling two seconds ago and when I walked in, Jesus Christ. He clammed up real good."

Kristina watched sadly as Jake scowled and kicked another small piece of wood, this time shooting it right out the other window. She had seen his anger simmer over the years, and Jake just couldn't hold it in any longer. There was no one who could make him angrier than his father, and she knew it was killing him inside. She just wished she knew how to help.

"So, you know me, I couldn't let a golden opportunity pass me by," he continued with a bitter, forced laugh. "I started needling the guy. Why not, you know? Why not make him squirm?"

"Because seeing him get all twisted up inside makes you feel less twisted up," she said softly. "I get that, believe me, I get it."

It was what he'd been doing for years, after all. In fact, if she didn't know better, she'd think that Jake planned out his verbal spats with Jason, disguising each one with his disarming, impish grin and easy-going, all-American air.

"I asked if he was coming to our graduation."

"What'd he say?"

"He said, yeah, of course, he wouldn't miss it," Jake mimicked, his lips twisting into an ugly sneer. "Sure, since the kid who carries his freaking name is graduating, why not go? Ugh."

"Well, to be fair…"

"I'm sick of being fair," he snarled. "At that point, I was just pissed off. So I was like, oh, okay, that's cool since I never see you at any of Morgan's other school things, anyway. And I was like, I know it's because of your job and stuff and he was like, yeah, and I was like, has that changed? Don't you still do that kind of work?"

Kristina bit her lip, knowing that there was no way this would end well. "What did he say?"

Jake scowled. "He was quiet for a few seconds and then he said that his life is dangerous but thankfully things have been quiet and less unsafe since Morgan and I were kids, and that even though the danger was still there, it was less. And I'm thinking, then what the hell are we doing, asshole?"

He swept a hand through his sandy hair, visibly trembling with anger. "You've been gone my whole life because you picked the damn business over me and my mom and my brother, and you've always said how dangerous it was, and now this? Son of a…"

"I heard talk that after Mike got shot, my dad split the business up into parts," Kristina interjected helpfully. "You know, divided things up, let them sit there. He turned it all over to your dad, and I think he's finally started to put things back together. He's going to give it to Morgan when he's old enough."

"Morgan doesn't want it," Jake grumbled. "He told me."

Kristina's brows jumped. "You think he'll bail on Daddy and Jason?"

"No," he replied mysteriously. "He's not going to do that. He's going to take the damn business and he's going to run it."

He stomped on a piece of wood, pleased when it splintered. "Damn business. If it wasn't for that thing, my mom would actually be happy right now. She'd be married to Jason, they might have had more kids, even, and she would have been happy. Instead, she's alone and lonely and she has to deal with me and Cam on her own and it's his fault."

Kristina sighed heavily. She was used to such rants but had never seen Jake as angry as this: angry enough to swear and virtually tear apart his tree house, his bastion of independence during childhood. Knowing Jake, he'd probably tell his mother that the winds from last night's storm were responsible for the damage.

When he was young and she found him crying about Jason, she knew how to deal with him. Jake would get angry and defensive and insist that it was allergies, and that he wasn't crying. She'd wrap her arms around him and just sit with him for a while before his tears dried, and then she'd try to offer him a few encouraging words about how his dad loved him – he had to – and Jake would walk away.

She knew it was getting to the poor kid. Seven years ago, he found out about his true parentage and regardless of his claims to the contrary, Kristina knew it ate him up inside and changed him. Jake had grown angrier over the years; he was fierce and ambitious and indomitable, or so he liked to think. That was the image he crafted for himself, and he worked harder and harder every day at whatever it was that he was doing. He wanted to be the best at what he did, the best at everything, better than everyone, and those were some lofty goals for a thirteen-year-old with the world's largest chip on his shoulder.

Kristina sometimes wondered how Elizabeth Webber hadn't seen the change in her youngest son, but she had long ago figured that if she did see it, she mistakenly thought that it was puberty and Jake trying to live up to a standard of manhood that he created in the semi-absence of his supposed father, Lucky Spencer. It was the most rational explanation, after all.

And for his part, Jake hid the changes from his mother. In her presence, he was perfectly respectful and loving. He did the things normal boys did, but he always apologized to his mother and did his best to reform. There was truly no other word for it: Jake Webber (Morgan) cherished his mother. He saw her as an anointed saint, living her life in the service of her two children after being abandoned by both his biological and legal father. In his eyes, Elizabeth could do no wrong, and Jake slavishly adored her for both her sacrifices as well as her motherly manners.

"I hate that he makes me feel this way." His hands were balled into tight fists. "And I hate how I know that if he stopped it all right now, told the truth and just hugged me once, I'd probably forgive him for all of it."

Kristina's brows shot up. "You would?"

This was promising.

"Isn't that pathetic?" he asked, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. "That at this point, I would still make it that easy for him?"

"Well, I think-"

"At least I know for a fact that being at that graduation is going to kill him inside," Jake grumbled. "He'll be taking pictures with Morgan and Mrs. Jacks, and I bet the whole time he'll be thinking that he should be taking pictures with me and Cam and my mom."

"You know, I think you're right," Kristina started slowly, knowing she couldn't screw this up. Jake was a stubborn little boy, and it took a lot to get through to him sometimes. "Why do you think that is?"

He cocked a brow at her, in no mood for games. "Since you sound like you clearly have an idea, why not share it instead of interrogating me?"

Kristina pursed her lips and tried again. "It always messes Jason up when you talk like that, right? When you drop hints that way and poke him like that? Why would it upset him so much if he didn't want to be with you guys? If he didn't want to claim you as his son, if he didn't want to be a father to Cam and marry your mom? Obviously, it still hurts him. Based on his track record these past seven years, I don't think time is going to change that."

Jake glared at her. "He made his choice. Now he's gotta live with it. It can be a hard thing to accept, even if you think you did the right thing and have no intention of changing your mind."

"Jake…" She shook her head. "I know you think our situations are completely different, and they are, up to a point. But I honestly believe that your father loves you just like mine loves me. They want to be with us, but because of the realties of their lives, they can't be. They don't want to put us in danger and even though the decision hurts, they stick by it because they love us and want us safe. And they can't find a middle ground, like taking us half-time, because that would make them want to be with us all the time, and they don't want to risk our lives like that."

He rolled his eyes and turned his back on her. "And yet they both found other families to be a part of. Your dad's a half-time dad to Mike and Morgan, with Mister and Mrs. Jacks, and Jason makes sure he's always available for them. He's been to every single one of Morgan's birthday parties, has dinner with them once a week, plays catch with Mike a couple times a month, and fixed Morgan's bike last week when the wheel got screwy. And for us? He actually looks relieved when my mother leaves a damn room. How the hell is that fair?"

"I just – look, they both love us-"

"Maybe," he allowed harshly, "but they've both chosen other things over us. My dad chose the business, and your dad chose Mike and Morgan."

He felt bad at the crestfallen look in her eyes and realized that this was his usual way: making others feel bad just because he did. He wanted to apologize, but nothing he said had been a lie. If Kristina realized that now, it might even save her some pain later on.

"There's no way to excuse it, Kay," he told her softly. "I honestly can't figure out why you try. Maybe you have to," he added when the light in her eyes dimmed. "And that's fine, that's you. It's between you and your dad. At least you two can talk about it. I don't have that, so I make my own decisions about it, draw my own conclusions. And I can tell you that Jason will probably die before he tells me the truth: he'll take this to his grave. And that's fine, because so will I."

Jake shook his head. "It makes me feel better, you know. Proving that I can do stuff. Busting my ass to be the best. Because one day, I know I'll be able to shove it in his face and show him that this was what he left behind, this was what he didn't think was good enough. And he can just choke on it, because you know he still won't say anything."

"But, Jake, that's not healthy. And who knows if things will work out the way you hope, anyway?"

"Because the plan is solid," he replied stubbornly. "Morgan and I laid it out and it's solid. Not a single flaw. We both know what we have to do, and there's no way that Jason can just pretend that I don't exist, that I'm not his kid. By the time I'm done with him…he'll wish he never walked away from my mom and us."

He scowled and moved past her, barely stopping to look before he lowered his foot to the first rung of the rope ladder and began climbing down. Kristina sighed and looked around, then called out to him.

"You trashed your tree house."

She could hear him snarl. "That's okay. I'm getting too old for this fucking thing, anyway."