A/N Face/Off is a fantastic movie written by Mike Werb and Michael Colleary and directed by John Woo.

I own absolutely nothing.

Adam and Eve

Ch 12 Homecoming

When Adam gets in the back seat of the limo he is relieved to find that no one is there; he appreciates that wherever he is on his way to he has the time alone to take it in and further prepare himself mentally, unscrutinized and undistracted. He purposely doesn't pay attention to street signs, only the scenery, as the limo progresses through a winding canyon road. It passes a a market done up like an old-time general store at the bottom of the canyon then intermittent clusters of mail boxes that festoon the the road for seemingly no good reason. Adam's untrained eyes do not notice the hidden drives at first that lead up roads to the canyon homes invisible from the main drag that the boxes belong to, but as the limo climbs higher up he begins to notice a pattern and discerns that some of the impossible-looking offshoots are indeed pathways to the privileged hillside-dwellers nestled high up above the road. He wonders how even the residents find their own homes, especially at night, as he notes no tangible evidence of street lights of any kind.

Ten minutes later the limo makes what seems like an impossible left turn and heads up a narrow road and travels slowly another five minutes or so before a modern tri-level house comes into view; it is all white concrete, windows and light; geometric and clean; spacious-looking but economical in proportion. The limo pulls into a circular drive and stops under a concrete carport. Adam sees Olympia and Ajax waiting for him and he bounds out of the car before the driver can open the door for him. His feet carry him to the two smiling at him and before he knows it he is caught up in the warmth of a loving group hug. Finally the three part.

"Where is my father?" Adam asks them then, as a single tear streams down his cheek.

Castor is sitting up comfortably on a couch in the den attached to his bedroom. When Olympia and Ajax appear with Adam he rises and goes to his son; he takes Adam's face into his hands and grins crazily; he sees Pollux and he sees Sasha and begins to weep with joy; he hugs Adam to him and finds it impossible to let go.

Adam returns his hug with a mighty one of his own and lets himself get lost in his father's embrace; from the doorway he can hear Olympia crying audibly and Ajax talking to her soothingly as he comforts her. Father and son reluctantly let each other go. Castor motions Adam to sit on the couch as Olympia and Ajax come in to take their seats, as well. Castor finds that he cannot stop smiling and beats at his head with his fist in consternation.

"He's so happy that he's crazy with joy, Adam," Olympia explains as she tries to catch her breath between tears and little hiccups.

Castor reaches for a letter on the coffee table then and hands it to Adam, motioning for him to read it; he puts his hand to his mouth and motions outward.

"You want me to read it out loud?" asks Adam.

Castor nods yes.

"Okay." Adam began to read.

"My son, my dearest Adam:

Did you feel me last night the way that I felt you? I couldn't sleep, son. I had everything at my disposal to make sleep happen: warm milk; a book to bore me; my dark soothing room and a cool ocean breeze; drugs. I wanted none of them. I wanted only to think of you and this moment; to play over and over in my mind seeing you at the diner last night. I was too excited for sleep, son.

So, where do I start? I guess I start with now. I can't talk, not yet. I'm meeting a doctor in the morning and he's going to tell me if I'll ever get my voice back. By the time I see you again I'll know something definitely, one way or the other. Who did this to me, you wonder. The FBI, Adam. Sean Archer's people. Sean thought he killed me; I was wounded—badly—but not dead. The FBI had a medical team waiting to switch us back to ourselves. I believe Sean really thought I was dead. I know now that's what he was told. But I wasn't, Adam. I was being kept alive—they said for research—I say for torture. I'm only now beginning to unravel the pieces of what was done to me while I was in a coma. They hurt me, Adam. I know I'm a criminal; I know I've hurt innocents—let's be clear about that. I am not a good man; I am not a good person." Adam looked up at his father and shook his head at him in disbelief.

"No, dad..."

Castor, squeezed his eyes shut and tapped the page of the letter.

"This whole thing with Archer started because I killed his little boy. I killed a little boy, Adam. He was about the age you were when Archer took you in. He was an innocent. It was an accident. But how do you tell a father that his son lying dead on the ground was just an accident? Especially a man like Sean Archer? The two of us had already been involved in a deadly game of cat an mouse for years, Adam. I didn't mean to kill the boy, but at the time—and I'll be brutally honest—I didn't care. It was unfortunate, I remember thinking as I saw Sean crawling desperately towards his son, but it wasn't personal. Does that give you any insight to the kind of man I was then, son? Just the tip of the iceberg, I assure you.

I've been told that you know your aunt Talia. Surely she has given you a little history on your mother's side of the family. I'm not going to go into the total horror that was your uncle Pollux' and my upbringing, except to say that my father was a monster. It is not an excuse for my behavior, just a fact. Your uncle Ajax can tell you more about that—it hurts me too much to go into it. Yes, I'm a criminal and a monster, too. But I had something in me that my father did not—a capacity to love and love fiercely. I loved your mother, Adam, from the day I first saw her when I was twelve years old.

I've done so many horrible things, Adam. I killed Dietrich. We were in an impossible situation that night the feds stormed his place; the night I found out about you for the first time. I knew Dietrich would kill himself before he ever went back to jail; just like I knew before it was all over we would all be dead, anyway. I shot my best friend, Adam. Your mother's brother. Because I loved him. I know that sounds totally fucked-up and crazy but it's true. As I sit here and write this even I am aware that it all sounds like complete bullshit. But you haven't walked in my shoes, son. And I don't ever want you to. You may never understand any of this; you may never forgive me. I don't care as long as it keeps you from walking in anything that even remotely resembles my footsteps.

Having said that, I'm not making any excuses or apologies for the things I did that led Sean Archer to hunt me down. But I do regret that I killed his son. It wasn't until that moment, when it became so understandably personal for him, that he vowed to kill me. I honored that about him, actually. Under other circumstances I could have seen us being friends; under the dynamics of our relationship at the time I could have seen us being respectful adversaries. At least, had I not I killed his boy. That's why I'm not so torn up about the fact that he was a big enough man to take you in and raise you as his own. I don't have any mixed feelings about that. I'm sorry that we didn't both just end up as old retired gunslingers telling stories to our grandchildren who would just chalk our impossible yarns up to being bullshit fish tales or Alzheimer's disease. That was probably just a highly unlikely and wishful thinking, but it would have been nice, anyway.

Somehow, son, I'm still here. I know very well what hand I've played in all of our fates and my other apology is to you. But your mother was phenomenal, a lioness—she had ambition for us all and especially for you. She not only protected you from my enemies, Adam; she protected you from me, as long as she could. My final apology is to her because I should have done better by her. I led Sean Archer to her door, I signed that death warrant. And because I did it cost me Pollux and Dietrich, as well. I had to tell you that, Adam.

Am I the man I was twenty years ago? No. But I'm still bad news, son. I don't want the same things I wanted then, but I do want revenge on the fuckers who tortured me. Wrong or right, I do. And I will have it. I will either survive that ambition or I won't. But I don't want it to touch you. You are the only thing in this world that I've ever done right. And I want to do right by you now. Even if it means enjoying this reunion today and never seeing you again. I hope that you understand even if you are never able to find it in your heart to forgive. I know there's a special place in hell for me, I've always known it. But that's not what I want for you and I'll understand if you make your own decision to walk away from all of this. To say that I love you doesn't begin to describe all that I feel for you, but I'll say it anyway: I love you, son."

As Adam reads the last four words he hears his father's afflicted voice struggle to utter them to him at the same time. He looks at his father then, long and hard, and realizes something has indeed changed in him, but it is not the love he feels for the man sitting opposite him. He says nothing as he puts the letter down and moves closer to his father, then hugs him tightly. He doesn't tell his father about the dark impulses he's always felt lurking in his soul waiting to manifest in some form or another; he doesn't tell him that he shares his ambition and desire for revenge; he doesn't tell him that he's glad to finally have some real insight into his own self and that he no longer fears the unknown—about the world and especially about himself. He doesn't tell him because he knows it will hurt and disappoint him as surely as it will make him proud and so decides to spare him that particular agony until he's strong enough to take it. He knows that they will triumph together because this man is Castor Troy, targeted by the best of the best and still alive; he vows that this man will live to tell fish tales to his grandchildren, because he is his father; and because he loves him.