AN: I hope everyone enjoys Ranger's letter. I am LOVING all your reviews, warm glowing hugs in each one. :D

OK, so most of the stuff in this chapter I made up. I took a couple of things from canon, and there may be one or two things I read in other fanfiction, but I tried not to copy anything too much from other authors. If you think I did and you think I should have credited them, I apologise in advance – it was not on purpose.

Disclaimer: Story told from Stephanie's POV. I own nothing, just playing with JE's world.

Chapter 21.

Dear Stephanie,

I've never been much of a writer, Babe. In fact, I think this is probably the first non-work letter I've ever written. I wasn't one of those guys in the Army who had a sweetheart to write home to. And I never wrote to my parents – more on that later. So I may not be very good at it. Sorry, if that's so. Guess it can't be any harder than talking, but you know how bad I am at that too.

When Santos told me what he'd done, I was really pissed. Hacking the video, reading your letter – well I was pissed beyond words. I'm going to really try to be honest here, so I was really ashamed and embarrassed at my behaviour too – I was acting like a fucking idiot and so that made me even more pissed. When he felt like he had to track you down and get your help – well it was pretty humiliating that Santos had to call me on my stupidity when I've always prided myself on being the one in control.

If I hadn't read your letter first, I would have beat the crap out of him, I admit. And I barely restrained myself then, but I'm glad I didn't because I needed the wake-up call. I felt so like he shouldn't have been in my business, shouldn't have been running to you and tattling like a kid to mommy. But you said in your letter how you were both worried about me, so I decided to try and calm down first, before I called him to the mats.

Yes, Babe, the irony of it is NOT lost on me. Feeling like he shouldn't be in my business, when the whole point was I was in your business way more than I had any right to be.

I spent 2 days locked in my apartment. The first day I spent sulking like a fucking 6 year-old – see being completely honest here – but by the second day, I realised how much of a hypocrite I was being and I began to really think about everything. I re-read your letter a few times and I started to think about how to answer you. Just knowing that you had reached out to me again, that you cared enough to do that, despite me fucking everything up so bad, well, that was what got through to me. And I don't want to let you down again, so I'm really trying here, Steph. I hope you know that.

OK. Starting off here to answer all your questions.

1. I haven't had a drink since Lester gave me your letter, Steph. I promise. And I won't Babe. No more. Yesterday, I told Santos to come up to the apartment and he went through and checked it for booze. Found none. I told him he could come up every week until he felt sure I could be trusted not to drink anymore. If you have a way to contact him (he wouldn't tell me) then you can ask him.

2. Of course, I'm really sorry for reading your journal. It was a crappy thing to do. I'm not going to tell you I had good reasons – I know no reason would be good enough for you, but I want you to try to understand why I did it. Basically, I'm crap at communicating about anything personal Babe – yeah, I know big shock huh? When I had dinner with you that night, I felt like we were really getting somewhere, like we were starting to sort out our crap. You told me you loved me, do you realise you'd never said that to me before? I sort of felt like we were going to make it, that we had a real shot. Then all of a sudden, it fell apart and I didn't even know if you would show up for breakfast the next day.

I saw the bag when I got back to Rangeman and I opened it because I thought maybe there would be something in there that you'd want enough to meet me. When I found the book, I thought yes – she's going to come to breakfast, because she's gonna want this. I was only going to enough to see exactly what it was, but then I was just fascinated. It was everything about you and everything I wanted to know. I could hear the voice at the back of my head telling me what a major mistake it was to keep reading, but I ignored it.

Then I read the bits about what you were going to say to me if you saw me. I recognised some of the questions you asked me at dinner, and I read your other bits, the apologies, the other questions, the ideas. Honestly, I barely read anything after that in the journal. That was just everything to me. Even knowing how angry you are (and that you have every right to be), if I thought you wouldn't run away from me, I'd probably read that bit again if I could. It was like opening a window into your mind and giving me what I needed to get you back. And you said you loved me again, lots of times in that journal.

Like I said, I'm no good at talking, at communicating. It doesn't come naturally to me, and I hadn't heard most of that stuff you said in your journal from you. I know I should have waited, talked to you and learned that stuff by talking to you. Asking questions and telling you my shit. But it was like a shortcut, reading all that. And I took it. I know it was wrong, Steph. Really it was a huge mistake, and I'm sorry.

3. Forgiving you. Well Babe, like I said to you at dinner, I know what went on in Trenton was as much my fault and Morelli's fault as yours. So yes, I definitely forgive you for everything. We all screwed up, we all ran away, and we all paid the price. Nothing left to forgive Babe.

You asked me what does forgiving mean. I wish I could tell you Babe, I wish I knew. But I'm probably the last person to ask. Let's face it my life in the Army has never been about forgiving – it has been about retribution, fighting back, even attacking first – and I've probably carried it over too much in the rest of my life. If it hadn't been for your letter, I would have half-killed Santos. So maybe you taught me the lesson about forgiveness with your journal and your letters. I haven't called Santos to the mats and I don't intend to.

Maybe forgiveness is putting yourself in the other person's shoes and seeing the mistakes they made. Like you said, accepting that people make mistakes and nobody's perfect. And maybe it's deciding that moving on is more important than feeling crap about stuff. That might be what Lester was talking about the letting go stuff.

4. Hawaii. Babe, like we said at dinner, in Hawaii we were both living the dream. I wish it hadn't ended like it did. Sometimes I wish it hadn't ended at all. Like we could still be there, living every day like that. I don't know if I can say any more than that. Just being there with you every day away from all the other crap in both our lives – that was the best bit. Although the sex was fucking amazing too. Sorry, couldn't resist.

5. OK, the hiding thing. Babe, it's not on purpose. Shit, that's a cop-out. It's not like it's an accident. They probably would call it learned behaviour, I guess. I've never been that good at talking about myself. From the time I was getting into trouble as a teen, I was hiding shit from everyone. Then I was sent away to Miami – away from my parents, my brothers and sisters – and it fucking hurt Steph. As an adult, I can see why they did it, but at the time it just hurt. So I learned to shut down, don't let anyone see, and it became second nature. Then the Army, the Rangers, all the top-secret missions – it just reinforced everything I'd learned to shut down, hide my thoughts, put on what you call my blank face, avoid answering questions, pretend I didn't feel anything.

Doesn't do anything for a personal relationship, I get that. But learned behaviour for 20 years is pretty hard to get past. And yeah – I also get that we had a relationship in Trenton. Whatever it was – friends, lovers, whatever – I should have told you that too. When I told you I love you in my own way – maybe what I should have said was I love you the only way I know how, but I don't really know how to show it or tell you.

So here's a bonus (you can probably tell I am going by your letter to answer your questions) – everything you wanted to know about Carlos Manoso – by the way, I go by Carlos, because I'm named after my dad, and he's Ricardo. Even as a little kid, I refused to be 'Ricky', so we compromised on Carlos. My sisters still call me Ricky when they want to piss me off.

- Well you know about the healthy food and limited alcohol from Santos I gather. Mostly I do really well, and I find that when you don't eat sugar for a long time, sweet things taste really, really sweet – it's like the taste is magnified. And so I don't really like sweet shit all that much anymore anyway.

- Favourite food – well I grew up eating Cuban food, so spicy stuff like chicken and rice, or paella, or lots of other Cuban dishes. In terms of your favourites (junk food in other words), probably pizza, but I try not to indulge too often.

- Best memory – we didn't have much money as kids, and we almost never went on holiday. But one time when I was eleven, we flew down to Miami to stay with my grandma. First time I'd ever been on a plane. And it was so hot (summer holidays) and we went to the beach almost every day and swam and played. It was the only holiday I can remember where I didn't fight with at least one of my sisters every day. They are all older than me, so they were all focussed on swimming and sunbathing, and I just got to enjoy myself doing whatever I wanted.

- Worst memory – well, I've pretty much already told you that. Being sent away from my family at fifteen. I can look back now and see why, but at the time it was just crap, and I don't think I've ever been really close to my family ever since. I resented them all through high school, felt like they didn't want me. Which was crap of course, they wanted me alive, not shot dead in some gang shit. They did their best and tried to straighten me out the only way they knew how.

- Meeting my family. I guess this relates to a lot of what I told you already. I grew away from my family when I went to Miami, and I've never really grown back close to them. Plus, all that learning to shut down and hide my thoughts and feelings – well that pretty much carried over to all parts of my life. What I guess I'm saying is that I wasn't hiding my family from you, Babe, I was just compartmentalising everything in my life.

So my family – my parents are Ricardo Carlos and Mariella Louisa. I have four sisters, Celia (I have mentioned her to you) is the oldest, then Aleesha, Isabel and Seleste – then me. They are all married now with lots of kids. I won't bother with all the nieces and nephews names. My grandma Rosa Manoso still lives with my parents in Newark. My grandma Bella Santos – who I lived with in Miami – died about four years ago. I also have a crap-load of cousins and aunts and uncles on both sides. My mom was Mariella Santos before she married dad, so she is Lester's aunt. Les and I were close growing up, since I didn't have any brothers, he was like my big brother (one year older). But when I moved away to Miami we lost touch a bit – it really wasn't until I joined the Army and he did too that we grew close again. Then we went into the Rangers together with Tank and Bobby and they became more like my family than my real family, if that makes sense.

The only other person I really consider family is Julie, I guess, but you know that relationship has always been pretty distant. I wanted to tell you that since I moved to Atlanta, I have seen her a couple times – whenever Rachel and Ron will let me – and they agreed to let her Skype with me every few weeks. It has been pretty awkward – I have no idea what to say to a twelve year old girl – but I'm glad I am getting to know her a bit.

Someday I'll introduce you to the rest of my family Babe, if you really want to. But I never excluded you because I was trying to keep you away from my family. Basically, I keep myself away from them.

6. OK, last but not least. The 15th meeting in Boston. Babe I would move the earth to be there. Thank you for the chance. I can't wait to see you again, and I hope by then you can forgive me a bit. Before then, can you please think about how I can try and start earning your trust again? I really want to. If you can help me understand how, I'll do anything to try.

Wow, Babe. This writing thing is not as bad as I thought it would be. I can see why you do it. I don't know if I could ever have said half this stuff to your face, but somehow it's easier to write it down. Maybe we can think of a way to keep writing, if there's an easier way than via your therapist in NY? We can ask each other questions and I can tell you more about me. Think about it anyway, and tell me when I see you on the 15th. It's going to be all I can think about – seeing you – until then.

Love Carlos.

AN: Awww, he wuvs her. But we all knew that right? ;-) How do you reckon she will react?