Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Mpreg, Incest, Rape, Mob Influence, Murder, Mental Disorders, Bloodshed, etc.

I couldn't understand what I had just heard. Scott had just told me that my father, my abusive father who had loved me a little more than a father should love his son, had left his entire business to me. Hook, line, and sinker. This, I would later find out, would include the house, all those that worked under him, and the millions of dollars distributed between five different bank accounts in five different states. If I wanted this, I could be set for life.

But this all made me feel so uncomfortable. I felt like this was my father's last card, the Deadman's Hand. He would lay it all out on the table, like the candy in the check-out line, and wait to see how long it took me to break down and cave in to the life that I had always despised. He knew that money was something that I had always wanted for, so he supplied money in excess. A nice car, a nice house, so much money that I would never have to work again. I was a spoiled child.

I rose and brushed some of the dirt off of my slacks. I needed time to think this over and evaluate my situation. "Thanks, Scott. I think that I really needed to be able to see the situation from someone else's perspective."

Scott stubbed out his cigarette on his boot and rose as well. "Yeah, well, I think that we both needed this." Scott smiled ruefully. "I'd like to think of it as a final gold star to see me through to the end."

My relief was stifled by his words. "What is that supposed to mean? You sound like you're heading off to a funeral." It was meant as a joke, but this situation was much, much too serious for jokes.

"Might as well be. The doctor said that I did some serious internal damage when I messed up my skeleton like that. My body is just too old and out of shape to recover from it. He said that I have a month, maybe two if I'm lucky."

I felt my eyes start to water, but I didn't understand why. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner? Scott, I… that cigarette… the booze at the party… do you want to kill yourself faster?"

"Daddy dearest always said to 'live like you'll die tomorrow', didn't he? Maybe that's what killed the old geezer in the first place. I don't want to die with any regrets, Johnny boy. And I've wanted to tell you this for a long time."

Frantically, I scrubbed at my eyes with my balled-up fists. Scott shot me the 'the baby is crying again' look, but he didn't laugh, and I was thankful for that. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I love you, little bro. Always have." He walked over to me and kissed my forehead. He smelled like cigarette smoke.

I sniffled and couldn't help my immediate response. "I love you too."

He smiled. This time it was broader and more authentic. "Good."

Scott made his way back inside and left me all alone out there. I did my best to compose myself, because it wasn't fair for the bride to break down at his own wedding – that was Randy's mother's job, and she had done an excellent job so far. Once I felt that I had my emotions under control, I went back inside as well. The party had resumed normally and I had Randy to thank for that. One cold glare from the ex-marine was enough to silence any back talk that might come up.

Slowly, I made my way back over to him and slid my arms around his waist, resting my head in the slight dip between his shoulder blades and breathing in his earthy, unadulterated scent. I had always loved that Randy never tried to hide himself behind cologne. He jumped a little bit, but when he looked down and recognized my hands, he relaxed. Cheekily, I asked if I could have this dance. He smirked, nodded, and set his wine tumbler down on the nearest table.

He led me out onto the floor and that tension returned. I could feel all eyes on my back and it made me nervous. Randy must've noticed this as well, because his cold glare had returned, this time followed by a determined set to his brow and a subtle twitch of his upper lip into a snarl. He almost looked feral. When the eyes retreated considerably, Randy's hands settled on the small of my back and we started to move around on the floor. Finally, we had become one.

"So, what did Scott want to talk to you about?" Randy asked. I sighed, having known that he would eventually ask and not wanting to talk about it in the least. However, I knew that I had to if I wanted to keep Randy.

"We talked about family issues. He told me about what happened to my father and my brothers after I ran away. God, Randy, there was so much that I didn't know! Kevin, he… he…" I choked back a sob at the memory of it.

Immediately, Randy understood. "Shh… shh, baby, you don't have to say anymore." Randy stroked my hair softly and tried to console me before the tears came. "Whatever he said to you, none of it matters."

I pulled back, confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not what you know; it's how you apply what you know. What are you gonna do about what he said?"

What was I going to do? What was I going to do? Didn't he understand that my entire family was dead?! How could I do something about it when all of them were dead? And then, it occurred to me. I remembered that Kane and Amy had had a daughter, named Camille, who had just vanished off the face of the earth. My grandmother would die soon and so would Scott, but Camille, she couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. At that age, it seemed like they would live forever.

"I know what I want to do." I told him firmly.

"And that would be?" Randy asked.

"I want to find Camille."

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to find Camille than I had first hoped. It tended to be that way when a child is taken into the system because her father murdered her mother with a fireplace tool. First, I tracked her from Massachusetts, where she had been born, to New York. She stayed with a foster family there. I believe that their name was Del Rio. They took in foster children and housed them until they were adopted. But, for some reason, she was moved before then.

After that, she went coastal and ended up in California. There, she was taken in by the Hart family, which was her next foster home. When I looked in on Shawn and Bret, I found that they were a wonderful family. They took excellent care of her as well, but she didn't stay there either. It seemed like her horrific past had followed her all the way to the west coast and after that, she was moved out of the system and transferred into the British System.

That was where I lost her, but I knew that that was where we needed to start. I look all of the information that I had accumulated over the last few weeks – birth certificates, personal identification with birth and death dates for all of my family, a DNA test that showed my relation to Glenn and my relation to Camille. That one had been a little more difficult. Since I had kind of disowned my family and that life, it was hard for me to look at a test result that showed our relation.

"Are you sure that you don't mind having our honeymoon in England? I know that you wanted to go to the Caribbean, but this means so much to me and I know that I need to find her before the trail goes too cold." I said.

Randy shrugged. "As cold as it sounds, I couldn't care less where we have the honeymoon. I can see how much this means to you, baby. You need this and I need you to be able to hold yourself together with something stronger than tape."

I smiled wryly at him. "I really am a basket case, aren't I?"

"Yes." Randy didn't even hesitate and for that, I smacked his shoulder. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

Again, I was reminded of the fact that I hadn't told him about the baby. I was now almost four months into the pregnancy, give or take a few weeks, and I just hadn't found the time to tell him. Maybe I didn't want to tell him. Maybe I was scared to. I know that that sounds kind of stupid, but the more that I think about it, the more that I am sure that it is true. I was scared to tell Randy about the baby because I was afraid to lose the baby.

I had been so excited for the births of my three sons. They were my world and my entire life revolved around them. When they were so brutally torn from my arms, when they were murdered, I didn't know how to continue with my existence. It hurt that much. And I'm not sure that I could experience that again. I'm not sure that I could put myself through that high, soar with such indescribable bliss, only to lose it all in the end. To be that low again.

"Are you sure that you're okay, Johnny? Ever since the reception, I've noticed that you've been a little off. I don't want to make you feel pressured or anything, but you're kind of scaring me." Randy said.

I forced my best smile and hurriedly shook my head. "No, no. I'm absolutely fine. I just have a lot to think about with Camille, that's all. It's a lot to take in all at once."

Randy looked at me seriously. "Are you sure that that is all of it?"

I offered him my most naïve look. "I don't understand what you mean. Of course that's all of it."

"John," Randy took me by the hand and stared into my eyes. I could see hurt, confusion, and disbelief swarm in his beautiful cerulean depths. "I don't trust Scott. Whether he is your brother or not… I don't trust him."

Hurriedly, I shook my head. "No. Randy, he wasn't there to hurt me…"

"That doesn't matter. He's done so before."

I swallowed hard. "He's gonna die anyhow, so doesn't he deserve a few minutes of kindness?"

Randy shook his head. "That… that bastard raped you, John! He was the one who held you down while Glenn and Mark almost killed you! And you think that that bastard deserves kindness? He deserves to rot!"

I fought my way out of his arms, which was a lot harder than I had first anticipated. With all of my momentum, I stumbled back and hit the wall hard. Immediately, my abdomen started to hurt. "He's the only family I have left."

But Randy's attention was no longer focused on Scott. Instead, his eyes focused on my legs. "Johnny?"

"What? What do you want to yell at me for now?" I sniffled like a baby and rubbed my eyes furiously. I was scared because my husband had my brother's number and I just wanted someone, anyone, to make it out of this alive.

Randy's hand trembled as he motioned to my pants. I looked down as well and saw the blood that stained them. But that,.. that had to be impossible. "Johnny… you're bleeding."