A/N: I'm back! So, in this chapter, Sam's been living with Kayla for two months, and he's just getting back into the swing of living his life. Kayla comes down with a bad cold, so Sam has to take care of the kids.

That's not the central focus of this chapter, though. Sam decides to retire from his job, and when he sits down to write an email to his boss telling him about the decision, he stumbles on something Kayla has written. I feel I need to explain something here for readers who may not know. What Sam discovers is Kayla's answer to a question asked on a site called Quora. Quora is a real site, one that I visit almost as much as this one. It's a question and answer site, and it covers literally any topic. Anyway, the question Kayla answers is what is the worst thing your parents have done to you? Kayla answers the question by rehashing her version of events surrounding what happened with Art. Sam reads it and starts to feel guilty about everything again.

To LexieLou-I thought I had answered this question, but I guess I never did. Yes, I will reveal how Kayla was able to go back in time and show Sam what she did about the situation with Art. That will be a ways off though, towards the very end of the story.

"Papa, wake up."

Sam heard Samantha calling him, but decided to play with Samantha a little more.

"Papa, come on. Wake up."

"I don't wanna wake up."

"Come on, Papa, we're hungry."

Sam sighed and opened his eyes to find two expectant sets of eyes staring at him. He yawned and stretched a bit before sitting up. "Where's your mom?"

"Mommy's sick." Samantha said. "She said to come get you."

"She's sick?"

"Yeah. She coughing and sneezing and said her head hurts a lot."

"Okay, you two. Meet me in the kitchen. I'm going to check on Mommy."

Jesse and Samantha immediately turned and ran to the kitchen. Sam got up and walked to Kayla's room, but not before checking the calendar. It had been two months exactly since Sam had moved in with Kayla. The first few days had been rough. Sam had a rougher time than he thought he would adjusting to having children in the house again. Kayla asked him to do a few simple chores, but overall she still took care of him, Todd, Samantha, and Jesse.

Sam still felt guilty about his suicide attempt. He knew Kayla wasn't angry with him anymore, but it still bothered him when he thought about what Kayla's life would've been if he'd been successful. When he'd thought about all the two of them had lost, it made him feel selfish to think he'd tried to do it to her again. Her words at the hospital haunted him every day.

I cook for you, I clean for you, I make sure your bills are paid, I've been taking care of Dean for three years. All that while taking care of my own kids and husband. I'm tired too.

Kayla had spent her entire adult life taking care of everyone else. Even before Jess had died, Kayla was constantly checking in on her family. She'd made dinner for Sam, Jess, and Mary more than once, come by to help her mother cook and clean, and helped keep the house organized. Over the past eight weeks, thinking about how much Kayla did for him had started triggering dreams of Jess. Every dream ended the same. He'd be walking down the road with Jess and Mary, Kayla ahead of them by a few steps, and suddenly Jess and Mary would stop. Sam would walk ahead a few steps, not aware that Jess and Mary had stopped behind him. When he would realize it, he'd turn around and the two of them would be floating away. Jess's voice could be heard saying take care of our baby girl just as Sam woke up begging her to come back.

Sam made it to Kayla's door just in time to hear her coughing again. He stood there for a moment, until Kayla tried getting up.

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

After coughing again, Kayla answered with a hoarse voice, "I'm getting up in a second."

"You're not doing anything of the kind." Sam said. "Lay back down."

"The kids…"

"You're sick. I've got the kids. You heard me. Lay back down."

Kayla sighed. She hated it, but didn't have much of a choice. "You sure?"

"Yes. I'll fix the kid's breakfast, then if you're still awake, I'll bring you some soup."

"Thank you, Dad."

"Lay down." Sam said again, walking over and pulling Kayla's blanket on top of her.

"Aren't I a little old to be tucked in?"

"No. You're still my kid." Sam said. "If you can live with that."

Kayla smiled. "I like that."

"Sleep." Sam commanded gently. He kissed Kayla's forehead and walked out to Jesse and Samantha. "Alright, kiddos. What do we want for breakfast?"

Three days later, Kayla was almost recovered from her cold. Sam gave her one more day in bed, then told her that assuming she was better, she could get up. Sam found his old fatherly role to fit like a glove, and decided then and there to never take it off again.

At the end of the third day, Sam had made another big decision. He sat down at the laptop that Kayla and Todd shared and began to compose an email to his boss. He'd decided to formally retire. He knew the email wouldn't be enough, that he'd have to go to the office and fill out the paperwork, but the email was the first step. It would solidify the decision in his mind, making it nearly impossible for him to back down. But before he could open the email, he saw the internet browser was already open, with a tab to a website called Quora. Sam vaguely remembered Kayla telling him about it, and how she visited it as often as possible. It was a question and answer site, and when Sam saw the question, along with the answer Kayla had left, his heart started to sink.

What is the worst way your parents have hurt you?

I want to preface this by saying that I love my parents more than life itself. I'm going anonymous with this because I don't ever want my father, who currently lives with us, to read it. The story's a little long, so strap in for the ride.

A month or so after my thirteenth birthday, I went into mega bratty teen mode. I started snapping at my parents, yelling at them, and just generally hurting them in any way possible. Hurting them wasn't the goal, but I was hurting myself and I had to offload that somewhere. I was also smoking and drinking on the regular.

I think my dad suspected at least part of this, but he never asked me directly. There was a vicious cycle happening during those few months. Something would happen to trigger me, I'd snap at my parents, we'd be in an argument, and they'd forgive me.

The problem was this. Every time they'd forgive me, I'd figure they were only doing it because they were my parents and felt like they had to, not because I actually deserved it. So I'd start to hate myself, and that's when I'd drink and smoke again.

Things came to a climax after school let out for the summer. I had failed the eighth grade, due mostly to skipping more than forty days of school. I thought my dad was going to blow a gasket, but he didn't. He put me on a semi lockdown. I wasn't grounded, but every move I made was watched like a hawk. My dad came in with me to my first day of summer school (which is horrifying to a teenager) and told all my teachers he wanted a note home about my behavior every single day. He scrutinized every detail of those notes. If they said anything other than I was a perfect angel, he demanded to know why.

All in all, for lying to my parents every day for nearly a year, it was a sweet deal. Which makes what I did next even stupider.

My best friend at the time, Tayler, was an awful influence on me. She's the one I would typically skip school with. She invited me to a party at her house while her parents were out of town. My dad, of course, said no, but I went anyway.

That night is a bit hazy for me. The second I was at the party, I started drinking. I was there for maybe half an hour when the music stopped. When I looked up, there was my dad.

My father, on most days, is an incredibly loving, gentle man. He was quick to pick up my sister and me and snuggle or hug us. But you wouldn't picture a snuggly teddy bear to look at him. My dad is six foot five. At the time, I was a puny five feet tall. The look on his face when he found me immediately had me shaking. He broke up the party, dragged me home, lectured me, and punished me.

The next day was Sunday. When I woke up, Dad was gone and my mom was pissed at me. Mom and Dad both told me they needed a "time out" for a couple of days. They were exhausted. It hurt they were both shutting me out, but I tried to give them the space they needed.

On Thursday, mom and dad came to my room and told me they wanted a truce. They said if I was good in school the next day, we'd go out for dinner at my favorite restaurant. I was so excited! I vowed to myself I would change permanently from that point forward. I'd never give my parents a hard time again, and even if I felt like the most scummy person ever, I would make them be proud of me again. I felt better than I had in months. The next day, I dressed up for the 'date' I had with my parents. I washed and curled my hair, wore my prettiest dress and shoes, and felt like a million bucks.

Until we got to dinner, and my parents told me what was really going on.

They were sending me away from home to live with relatives. All my breath went out of me. Mom and Dad kept telling me it wasn't a punishment, but it sure felt like one. On the outside, I was pissed. I tried to make them feel as bad as possible.

What I didn't know was this. My parents had been discussing sending me away all week. It was a big part of the reason for their needed 'time out'. Dad had come up with the idea, but Mom was against it. They fought over it for most of that week. Mom even threated to separate from my dad because of it. Neither of them wanted to do it. My dad kept up a stern face about the whole thing, but my mom told me he cried himself to sleep that night and every night after it for a month. He would go into my room for up to an hour at a time and just sit on my bed, missing me.

My mom shared with me that what changed her mind was a dream she had. Apparently, in the dream, she found me in my room with slit wrists. My mom was terrified that her dream would eventually come true if they chose to keep me at home.

What my parents didn't know, and this is the bedrock of the entire situation, was that I had been molested, by my dad's best friend, any and every time he could get me alone for a minute or two.

My parents eventually found out, and they were great. They got me the help I needed. They apologized, over and over, for sending me away. Though he's never confirmed it, I'm pretty sure my dad had my molestor killed.

But, for a few weeks after we were all a family again, something nagged at me. What if my parents had never found out? Would they really have left me living with my relatives? Did they understand the depths to which they'd hurt me? Did they care?

To my molester, I was nothing but a toy to be used and thrown away.

But to my parents, who supposedly loved me unconditionally, I had become bad enough that I didn't deserve a home with them anymore. If my mom and dad didn't want me, what good was I?

I eventually worked through all this in therapy. But it taught me something important. It taught me that sometimes when parents hurt us, they're hurting too. So give your parents a chance. Reach out and talk to them and tell them how you're feeling. Hopefully, they'll listen. But if not, get some help from a trusted adult. Things can always get better if you work hard enough at it.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

Sam jumped. "Kay."

"What are you reading?"

Out of nowhere, Sam was flooded with a memory of one of the worst fights he and Kayla had ever had. Are you reading my journal? Trying to avoid it, Sam scrambled to close the lid on the laptop. "Nothing."

"You're awfully jumpy for nothing." Kayla said. She reached over and opened the laptop cover again. Her face fell when she saw it. "Oh."

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop…"

"Relax, Dad. I'm not mad."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm not. I just didn't want to hurt your feelings." Kayla said.

"I never really thought about how that whole thing looked from your perspective." Sam said sadly.

It was, partially, a lie. Sam had seen bits of pieces of Kayla's answer through her eyes. But reading the entire thing, start to finish, had brought back yet another painful memory in the life the two of them shared.

"Hey." Kayla grabbed Sam's chin and pulled it up. "Don't go on a pity party about this."

"What?" Sam asked with a light chuckle. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, don't go feeling sorry for yourself. Or for me." Kayla said. "You weren't a perfect dad, but you're as close to it as I could ever ask for. I like the way my life turned out, and if you had made different choices back then, it might not have turned out this way. So promise me you won't dwell on this."

Sam smiled. "Okay. I won't."

"Good. Now I'm going to make some dinner."

"I've got it."

"No. You don't. Send that email to Mr. Drew." Kayla said. "Go."

"How'd you know that's what I was doing?"

"Because Mommy knows everything. Now do it."

"Yes, ma'am." Sam said. "Hey, bug?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"I love you to the stars and back."

Kayla smiled and wrapped both arms around Sam's neck. Their lives were returning to a semblance of normal, and Kayla couldn't have been happier. "I love you too, Dad."