Little Moments Rebooted

by shadows59

The summer is over, they're not. As the pressure of real life and heroing builds, Ben and Gwen turn to each other more and more. Eventual Bwen. Rewritten in 2019. By Shadows59 & Erico

28. Dirty Jobs

Chapter 28: Dirty Jobs

Carl Tennyson's House

Bellwood, California

March 17th, 2000

5:04 pm

Carl hurt.

The pain went from the soles of his feet - feet wrapped in work boots which were covered with dirt and concrete dust from all over Bellwood - to the knot between his shoulders. One that not even a full day working a jackhammer could give him, just too many hours stuck in a chair that stopped being comfortable five minutes in. Not that it was the meeting or all the walking around that made him lean his head back against his seat and sigh.

No, that was because of the empty spot in the garage next to his pickup. He knew it was Friday and a Karate night and what that meant, but it didn't make walking into a quiet house any easier when he finally got up and made his way inside. Not when the house was usually full of music - real and the electronic sounds that always seemed to come out of his son's room. Not when the silence meant that his family wasn't home.

He'd gone through too many years of that already.

That was the only reason he called out as he pulled off his boots. "Sandy Bear? Ben?" He didn't really think he'd get an answer, he just hoped his wife would come around the corner looking for a kiss and a dance or his son would want a partner on his video game, but there was one waiting for him in the kitchen anyway.

Just not one that he'd ever want.

"What does the Colonel want now?" The words were almost a growl as he glared at the blinking red light on the answering machine because he'd had enough of Hallam and the never-ending list of demands that he brought with him from the Army months ago. Demands that were running him and his teams ragged and the mayor…

The mayor just saw dollar signs because the army was not being shy as it tossed money into the town even as they tore up street after street for more power lines and cables and pipes and stuff Carl didn't even recognize, but it all had to be done yesterday for a base that no one even knew that their town was in the running for ten months ago.

"Next time… Next time we're going to do so much worse than just handcuff ourselves to a tree." The words were a promise that was as empty as the protest they'd joined last summer after the war and Fort McAuliffe was announced. Not that it was all bad. He'd never turn down a few hours of being tied to his wife. Just the thought made him smile a little and think about hitting delete because he had plans and had already done enough overtime for the next decade.

Besides, it wasn't every day that his son got his green belt and not even Uncle Sam was going to keep him from being in the Dojo tomorrow. He'd made a promise and his father showed him…

His father was the reason he hit play instead. Because he'd made a promise when he took the job, and no Tennyson had ever done any less than their best. Which didn't mean that there wasn't a moment where he hoped the tape would break as he listened to it rewind, but there wasn't any such luck as it stopped and a man's voice filled the room.

Just not the one Carl expected.

"Mrs. Tennyson? This is Mr. Thelen at Madison Middle School," Carl only met Ben's new principal once back during open house, but he remembered the man sounded so much more tired now than he had before school started, "Ben told me that you're probably on your way over already, but I thought I'd call anyway just in case. There's been another incident with your son and Mr. Cash. I'm still getting the details out of them, but I warned them both what would happen if I caught them fighting again. Please come to the school as soon as possible. Thank you."

The buzz that followed after he hung up and before the answering machine shut itself off almost matched the one in Carl's ears as he rubbed at the ache that sprang up just behind his eyes. "Damn it, Ben." The words tasted foul as they came out of his mouth and all too loud in the quiet.

That was what made him drop his hand and got him moving because he needed something that would drown out what he was thinking. The trip through the dining room and into the living room got rid of some of the visions he had of shaking sense into his boy.

Trying to find the remote in the mess his son left behind on and around the coffee table gave him so many more though. The cereal bowl was expected, and it was even empty this time. It always was now - and Carl didn't even know how many times his boy refilled the bowl before he decided he was full and pushed it away anymore, but he saw the empty box in the trash when he came in and it wasn't anywhere close to done yesterday - but there wasn't any shaking the memory of the smell from the few times he came home and it wasn't. "Small favors."

The dirty bowl wasn't a surprise, but the papers scattered all around it were even though he kind of remembered seeing his son digging through his backpack this morning as he rushed to work because of another phone call. Papers he poked at and knew were notes just from the handwriting - doctor's handwriting, his wife always joked and hoped - and he hoped his son didn't need any of them today as he dug through them.

Not just for the remote, but for anything from the school because his son had the bad habit of 'losing' the notes he was supposed to show them. For a second he almost thought he was safe, and then his heart fell when he found the paper that wasn't torn out of a notebook. The one that was crisp and white with red ink on it that screamed that it was a test. The one that Carl braced himself for because it wouldn't be the first that needed his signature, his and his wife's, just so they'd know that their son wasn't paying attention. It didn't help. "Damn it, Ben!" Carl gasped out when he saw the number and the note at the top.

95 - I knew you could do it!

"I'm going to strangle that boy!" Carl laughed even before he saw the date written just under his son's name. Two days. Two days and he didn't say a word. He stared at the paper even as he pushed himself back up and collapsed onto the couch.

He found the remote that way, the hard way, and he didn't care. His eyes never left his son's test or the single question that was marked with an x. A 95 in history, his son's worst subject. He echoed his father's laugh and words as he just stared in wonder and said, "I'm going to have to give that boy a medal before I shoot him," as he raised the remote and hit the button.

And a voice so deep and so loud filled the quiet that Carl fumbled for the buttons again. " -nt of St. Germain, Nicholas Flamel, Sir Gallahad. Legend is full of stories about men who have cheated death, but with the recent revelations can we be sure that they are just stories? Join us tonight for a special episode as we delve deep into the hidden corners of the world. All of this and more, on the next Unsolved - "

The rest of it was lost as he finally got the TV back under control. "That boy's going to be deaf before he goes to college," Carl sighed to himself. That was the last bit of the proof he needed that they'd never made it home after school because there wasn't any way his wife would have left the TV that loud if they had.

Which meant she was talking to the principal up until it was time for karate if they even made it. Some part of him wondered if Sandy Bear had gone to Lili's after, or just found the bookstore. He hoped for the first even though he knew better and wondered what she'd bring home this time, not that there was anything he could do about any of it right now. So he did what his father always taught him and focused on the one thing that he could right now.

Dinner.

He might have spent his day arguing and running all over the city, but his wife got Ben's principal and it wasn't even close, so cooking was the least he could do. The thought of pizza ran through his head even as he kept staring down at his son's test paper. Pizza would be easy, but he needed a clear head when his family got home and that meant only one thing. "Time for the master," he grinned as he cracked his knuckles and moved for the kitchen.

Just the thought made things a little better while he pulled open the pantry. Thoughts of making a show out of it went through his head because it was fun, even if he never got much of a chance. So was controlling the TV and tonight he got to do both for another good fifteen minutes.

Speaking of which…

"- uption, incompetence and the fate of the world," the man on the screen said as Carl changed the channel and caught him in the middle of the introduction. He didn't look any different than any other news anchor with his glasses, neat brown hair, and even neater suit, he just did the one thing that none of them ever would.

He told the truth.

"So settle in, people, because you won't believe what we have for you today on The Harangue Nation," Carl grinned as Will Harrangue's voice followed him back to the kitchen and he hung the test on the fridge. He could almost hear his wife's squeal and his son's groan when they saw it and they both sounded like music.

And it would be nice to hear something happy before he killed his son.

It would be a lot happier than Will Harangue ever sounded as the man's voice followed him back to the pantry and all thoughts of showing off disappeared when he saw the sauce in the back. The one he'd made and bottled months ago and grabbed up now.

The spaghetti was only a little more of a challenge, but the real prize was the hot dogs he found down by the onions. Hot dogs his son had somehow missed and were just perfect for what he was making as he boiled water and heated the sauce and just breathed in the smell of his mother's kitchen again.

The next few minutes were a happy blur of cooking and cutting and taste testing as Will Harangue raged behind him about all the same stories that his mom probably would have heard when she was the one making this. It was so routine that even the man saying it sounded bored.

And then he wasn't. "My friends..."

Harangue went quiet after that, and that more than anything got Carl's attention. He stared out over the bar at the TV and almost forgot about the wooden spoon in his mouth as he watched the man take off his glasses and rub his eyes.

"My friends, I know I promised you a story about the utter fiasco that is the Human Genome Project and the complete waste of our taxpayer money, the waste I warned you about back when they first announced the project, but that shocking expose is going to have to wait." The words were enough that Carl gave the timer one last look before he wandered back into the living room as Will Harangue looked right at the camera and through the TV. There wasn't anything hiding the look in his eyes now that he had his glasses off. "I know that there are some of you who hate it when I start talking about our mysterious 'Brothers in the Sky.' That some of you buy the government's line about how they came here in peace forty-seven years ago and nothing has changed since. That there are even some of you who believe the nonsense going around about the alien 'heroes' who supposedly criss-cross the country doing 'good' when they feel like it."

Harangue snorted at that as he sunk into his chair behind his desk and the camera pulled in tight so everyone could see the disgust written all over his face. This was the part when Sandy changed the channel or turned off the TV. Carl knew it was. He could almost see her scowl now as she reached for the remote. Especially if Ben was in the room because he ate these stories up. Him and Gwen, but they weren't home now.

Carl just turned the TV up as his stomach went the same kind of tight it did when he was on a roller coaster and they just reached the top of the first hill.

"I can hear you all. If Aliens are that bad, Will, then where's the proof? Where's the proof about what really happened in Rapid City two years ago, because believe me, ladies and gentlemen, it wasn't a gas main explosion! Where's the proof about what happened during the Great Blackout right after? A mass hallucination? Who are they trying to fool?" The man slammed his fist down on his desk at that, and the thump shook the speakers and filled the house. Then he took a breath and put his glasses back on. "No, I've been telling you for years that the government has been hiding the truth from us by intimidating witnesses and destroying evidence, but tonight… Tonight I finally have the proof you all want thanks to one brave viewer - a hero, a patriot - who I have here with me in the studio right now."

The camera pulled back at that and showed the man who was sitting at the other side of the desk. One who had fifteen years on Carl easy and was shifting in his suit like he'd never worn one before. One who looked as nervous as anyone could be. Nervous and determined as he was introduced and fiddled with the trucker's hat he had in his lap. And one that Carl knew was telling the truth the second he started talking just because no one could fake nerves like that. "It was just a couple of nights ago, Will. I was maybe four hours north of San Francisco and I was heading north on El Camino Real. Or Route 101, which is what I guess all you New York types call it…" he said, his accent thick and words stilted like he was remembering what he was trying to remember what he heard someone else say.

He probably did, because Carl had heard enough of his guys say the same thing any time they had a new guy come in who still had paper cuts from their diploma and enough big ideas for the world. The man on the television and Will must have nodded even if the camera didn't show him, because the man swallowed hard. "I was just maybe a half hour outside of Bellwood when…. When…." But he couldn't get the words out and Carl couldn't breath. Not when he'd been down that way not a week ago and he didn't know how many times before that. He just stared at the trucker on the TV as he twisted his hat in his hands before he turned away. "Dios… I'm sorry, Will. I - "

"It's alright, Mr. Lopez. I'll take it from here," Will said as he reached over and patted the man on the shoulder before he turned back to the camera and glared. "I want to assure you all that the tape we're about to play has been checked over by every expert there is and they all say that it's completely genuine. I also want to warn you that it's extremely graphic, and if that bothers you, well…" The man just shook his head, and that said more than any word could. Then he disappeared and the screen went black.

For just a second, Carl was sure that the man was right, that the government had cut the feed, and then he heard the panicked gasps. Then there was an orange blur that shot by as someone fiddled with the camera and whispered, "Madre de Dios," over and over again. One that showed just the shadows of all the empty wrappers and the plain inside of a work van, the kind that showed up at every construction project, as an orange light poured in through the windows high overhead.

Windows that got closer as the man pushed the camera up until it went past the edge of the dashboard and caught the mess on the other side of the windshield. Not the normal mess either that was almost bumper to bumper because the road was always busy, no matter what time it was.

No, this mess wasn't going anywhere. Not with the cars stopped this way and that, except for a few that were trying as hard as they could to jump the median and get on the empty lanes on the other side, and those were just the ones that stopped in time. Some of the cars and trucks hadn't, and he could see the ones that were crumpled together. Not that any of that was unusual.

The weirdest thing was that there wasn't anyone standing outside the wrecks either checking on the people inside or screaming their heads off for the accidents or just for blocking traffic. There wasn't even anyone honking, but there was something. Something that sounded like firecrackers and angry bees and he'd only ever really heard in the movies.

Or at the shooting range.

Carl felt his heart stopped at that as he leaned in closer and stared at the video that was too bright for the middle of the night. Bright enough that he could see people squatting down and hiding behind the cars or lying flat on the pavement with their hands over their heads. Some were even crawling into the ditches on the side of the road as the orange and red light cast long, sharp shadows behind them.

Red and orange light that flickered, and that the camera finally stopped blurring this way and that as it followed the light.

And found a nightmare.

A nightmare lit in orange by a Humvee not a hundred feet further down the highway as it curved around a hill. A Humvee that was on its side and burning so hard that the flames must have been twenty feet high. Flames that kept flaring even higher as Carl saw flashes of light inside the wreck that made the fire flicker and dance in the night as the sound of fireworks and buzzing bees filled the night.

The camera found the bees when it stopped shaking and focused on the other two Humvees that weren't more than twenty feet behind the first. Humvees that looked just like the ones he'd been seeing for months now, right down to the camouflage that was painted on their sides. Humvees that were surrounding a semi that had the words US DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE stamped across the whole length of its trailer.

Humvees that were spitting fire up the hill and into the night as something up there spat it right back. Carl just couldn't tell if it was a lot of somethings in the night or just one really big one. Either way, they were getting closer to the road.

Then there was another light. One that burned with the same angry red as the charcoals in the grill at the top of the hill and cast off enough light that Carl saw the thing that was creating it - a thing that might have been a tank, but it was too sleek for anything made on this world.

Alien.

As alien as the hot blue light that he'd only seen at trade shows as people showed off the tools of the future. Plasma, he remembered hearing his niece say once when he tried to tell her about it because she always loved that stuff. The stuff of the future she swore. Only it looked so much brighter and angrier at the end of a barrel than it ever did at the end of a welding torch. It burned like the sun and lit up the night and the hill all around it.

A dozen things were hurrying down it that could only be robots, even if the weird medieval armor theme that they were sporting wasn't anywhere near as sleek as robots were in the movies. Not that it mattered. Not as that barrel swung around to the next Humvee. Carl didn't breathe as the men around the big truck scrambled away. All but the one who manned the machine gun at the top. He never stopped firing, but his shots looked like a line of fireflies in the dark and did even less against the tank's armor.

Then the night went away and the world burned when the tank fired.

There was a sharp crack of thunder a split second before it did, and Carl didn't realize that it wasn't the tank until he saw something blur past the camera. Something that he swore had a flash of red at its side as it raced around and over every car between the camera and the semi as the wind it left behind tore at people's clothes and made the van rock.

The almost blood-red plasma was barely any slower as it crossed the distance in a heartbeat. Its aim was true and Carl felt sick as he watched it and remembered Harangue's warning. Then, when the bolt wasn't even a foot away from the Humvee's passenger side door there was a bright flash of pink light and a dome came out of nowhere and surrounded the Humvee and the one soldier still inside.

A dome that cracked like an egg when the shot hit it. Cracked and shattered. Not that it mattered. The plasma never touched its target.

All the shooting just stopped the second the dome appeared. Carl could see the soldiers inside staring up at where the pink light was. He even saw some of the people closer to the van dare to look up from the road and peek over their car's hood or trunk and stare at the sight.

He knew it because he was, too. If he wasn't…

If he wasn't, he might have missed the two dark shapes that were standing on top of the trailer now. Shapes that weren't there a second ago and were just shadows outlined in the fire beyond.

One was big. Not as big as Carl, or he didn't think so, and hunched over. Carl didn't even see the tail until it turned towards the hill and waved an arm that way. The other was almost impossibly small. Small enough that he was sure it would fit right in at the dojo if the kids could talk it into going as it stood there and threw its hands high over its head as the first shape vanished.

And the pink light came back. Only the dome was smaller this time and only surrounded the truck closest to the fighting. It didn't last as long either, and it cracked from the robot's fire. It cracked, but it held as the soldiers who fled a moment ago came rushing back. A couple dove inside while the rest used it as cover and opened up with their rifles just as the light vanished again.

"No," Carl gasped out as he just stared. He didn't know why. It didn't matter. He didn't even notice where the first shape had gone until he saw it zooming this way and that and the people who were just gone after it went by like they'd never been there. Only one person had enough sense to even try and run, and they only made it two steps before they disappeared, too.

There weren't words. There weren't even sounds. If the bar wasn't there, Carl wasn't sure if he could have kept on his feet as he watched. As it was, he clung to the wood and couldn't tear his eyes away as the blur came back. It raced by not a foot in front of the van and the camera jerked as the man gasped out "Jesus!" And did his best to follow. The camera jerked this way and that as he threw himself over to the passenger side and shoved it against the window just in time to watch a woman scream and reach for someone who must have been hiding behind the car there with her just a second ago. A woman with a baby in her arms and terror in her eyes. They were both gone a second after that.

Then a knock filled the house. One that was as rapid as a jackhammer and almost as loud and sent Carl jumping as the man on the video screamed, "Madre!" as the camera spun around and caught the thing on the other side of the van's driver side window.

A thing that wore black with a white stripe down its chest and a blue face-plate and belonged in a horror movie before it hissed up and the camera caught what was hiding under. A face that was even more horrible than Carl imagined, all scales and fangs and could have come out of Jurassic Park, only the scales were blue and its eyes were a cold yellow as it reached in even as the world started glowing red again.

Monster eyes.

Eyes that the TV froze on as Will Harangue's voice came back, "The Defense Department has - of course - denied that any of this happened. They claim that there was just a traffic accident as they were delivering supplies to Fort McAuliffe and a lot of people who panicked when they saw the cleanup crew come, but did they say what they were taking there that needed a full hazmat team anyway? Of course not. It's just our lives. What do they matter? And what does it matter if aliens are attacking us in our streets? Unless you think that what you just saw was faked like a certain senator claimed when I contacted her. And for the rest of you, I just have one question. Who are you going to believe, the government or your lying eyes?"

Carl didn't have an answer as he just kept staring, but he had a question. Just one that he croaked out, "Fort McAuliffe?" They were coming here? Those things were almost - "

"Honey Bear?"

Carl jammed his finger down on the power button as his wife's voice filled their home and the monster on the TV went away. He prayed that he caught it before his wife saw even as he spun around and tried to push the video out of his head, but he was only a little lucky. Sandra only had eyes for him as she crossed the kitchen and almost collapsed into his arms.

She didn't even close the door to the garage behind her, and he didn't care as he held her close. He was just glad she gave him a much better reason for a racing heart as she leaned her head back and pushed herself up for a kiss.

Not that he'd ever complained. He just lost himself in the taste of her lips and the feel of her hair and her jeans as he pulled her closer so he could forget all about the world in her. It even worked, too, until he finally pulled away because he needed air and saw the way her beautiful lips twisted with surprise as she looked at him. "Are you okay?"

He almost told her. He almost dragged her to the TV so she could see even though he knew they'd never play that video again. Not that it mattered, not when it all happened just an hour south of them and could have happened so much closer on a highway passed by only a few miles away.

It could have been his family in that mess. His wife that the alien took away. His son…

Then he stared into her worried and tired blue eyes and made himself smile because there wasn't anything that they could do except check the pistol he had locked up under their bed and hope for the best. The aliens were too big, the world was, too, and it was all he could do to take care of his little bit of it as he reached up and ran his hand through her golden hair. "Yeah. I was just watching the news."

Sandra made a face at that before she hugged him again. "I wish you wouldn't. It's nothing but bad vibes." He just laughed at that, and not a happy one as he held her close. He was sure that she'd be the one who would let go, but she didn't, and that was when he felt the tension that filled her back and heard the crinkle of a plastic bag that she was holding even as it hit him in the back.

"The principal left a message on the machine," he sighed out when it did. He didn't need to see the name on the bag. He could feel the book inside, and some part of him crumpled a little even as he asked, "That bad?"

"I'm sorry, I was going to call you but you were at work and - " Sandra groaned as she let her head fall against his chest. " - and I know we talked about the books, but…"

He wanted to close his eyes and maybe shake her a little. He kissed her again instead. "Whatever it takes."

And who knows, maybe this one would help. He held onto that thought and her until he heard a door slam in the garage. Then he leaned down and whispered into her hair, her golden locks tickling his nose as he did it. He wished they had time so they could talk, but they didn't and he trusted her with everything. "So, how mad do I have to be?"

"I don't know. Just… just don't…" Her words were a stammering rush that didn't tell him much, but they were enough. He started nodding as a shadow crossed the still open door into the garage as she finished. "Don't be mad at me?"

"You?" Carl said with a jolt as he looked down at his wife, who just hid her face. Then he saw his son come waltzing through the garage door in his gi and not a care in the world and as he held a gym bag in his left hand and something else in his right. Something he held up to his mouth. Something that Carl blinked at twice before he realized it was real and he was almost relieved because he knew what he could do about this. "You got him ice cream?!"

His Sandy Bear cringed so hard at that, and then she came out swinging as she pushed away. "I wasn't going to, but he told me what happened and - and I just thought he deserved something!"

"And you say I spoil him," Carl said because he couldn't think of anything else as he just kept staring. The words were a joke, but his wife didn't laugh. "Did you bring me any?"

"You do! And you are on a diet!" Sandra said with a sniff as she poked at his stomach. A sniff that disappeared as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder and looked away. "But that wasn't what I meant."

Carl almost asked, and then his son beat him to the punch as he looked back over his shoulder and said, "Okay, we're home so spill about the movie already! And you better have a good one this time."

And his niece hurried after, as happy as a clam as she held her own ice cream and closed the door behind her. "It's the best! I got the Princess Bride, but we can't watch it until after we review for the ceremony tomorrow!"

"This isn't the first belt I've gotten!" Ben said with a groan as he threw his head back. Usually, that would have sent his hair flying, but not now. Not when it was still dark with sweat from practice. "And no. No way. No princess anything."

Neither of them paid Carl or his scowl any attention as Gwen smirked at the boy in front of her and said in a sing-song voice, "You know our deal."

Carl waited for his son to start sulking, or go into full insult mode. But he didn't, and it was such a shock when he looked to the sky and threw up his hand in defeat instead. "Fine. I'll watch a quarter of it."

"A half. It has a wrestler in it."

Ben blinked and looked over his shoulder at the girl who just stood there and looked happily smug as she licked her cone. "Which one?"

"Andre the Giant."

Ben paused in thought before he nodded. "All right. Half." That was when he finally remembered that there were other people in the house, people who were staring. Not that he did more than say, "Oh. Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Uncle Carl," Gwen said with a grin and a wave of her ice-cream hand a second after she finished her cone. Then the puppy dog eyes were back. "Aunt Sandra, do I have time? I'm all gross."

Sandy gave the air one sniff and nodded as she smiled and didn't look at her husband. "Your uncle's signature dish will keep, Honey. You can use our bathroom and you know where my shampoo is. Just be quick. And Ben - "

"I know…" Ben groaned like a shower was the worst thing in the world as he glared at the girl behind him. "Look at what you did! I could have gone another day!"

"You better not!" Gwen shouted back as she clamped a hand over her nose. "I can smell you from here already, Doofus!"

"No, you can't!"

"I so can!"

The fight was as quick as anything Carl had seen at the Dojo, even if it was just with words. One Ben ended the only way he could. "Prove it!" He shouted as he grabbed for her and his shirt. "What do I smell like?!"

"Eww!" Gwen squealed as she danced away from him and then went dashing for the stairs. "Gross, Ben! Stop it! Stop it!" The words might have been more threatening if she wasn't giggling as she said them.

And there was something about that…

"No running!" His Sandy Bear called out even as they disappeared, and her words carried even less weight than Gwen's as she grinned. A grin that faded as she turned and met Carl's eyes again. "I know…"

"He got in a fight today," Carl said anyway in a low voice because he was willing to bet that the only thing that the book he felt bump his back again had in common with the ones already upstairs was that it'd say you shouldn't yell in front of your kids. And because he was trying to follow the thumps of footsteps upstairs. "And you let him bring home company?"

"Gwen is not company!" Sandra said as the worry in her eyes vanished in a fire. "She's family, and she's always welcome in this house!"

A fire that faded as he took her in his arms again and felt her shake. "I know she is, Sandy Bear. I didn't mean it like that, I just…" he bit off the rest in a sigh as he stroked her back. "Puppy dog eyes?"

"From both of them," Sandy finally said into his chest. "It wasn't fair."

Carl just made a noise at that, a noise that was lost when he heard two showers start upstairs and he let go of as he stroked his wife's hair. Some part of him was glad that she was growing it out again as he followed it down to her shoulder blades. He still missed the feel of it when it ran all the way down her back, but it didn't matter. Just touching it was calming in all the ways TV wished it could be for both of them. "Natalie will be here at ten?"

"Eleven," Sandra admitted as she ducked her head. "She said that there's doing a production of Giselle tonight and - "

"And she roped my brother into taking her," Carl finished with a chuckle. It was his little corner of the world, and there were rules. There were always rules, his dad taught him that much even if it was mom who enforced them. Rules he hated back then, but now…

Now they were just too sweet. Especially if Frank was stuck at the ballet because of them. "I'm surprised that she didn't want Gwen to go with them."

"You know how she is about karate," Sandra said with a shrug that didn't do a thing to hide her pride as she looked over at the stove. "You made dinner," It wasn't a question, not really. Not with the way she purred as she said it and wrapped her arms around him again...

"I thought you could use a break," he admitted he hugged her close and his fingers found the waistband of his jeans before they headed even lower.

Low enough that his Sandy Bear let out a surprised and pleased squeak as he pulled her closer and she felt just what her purr did to him. She didn't look tired at all after that. Not as she tilted her head and sucked in a breath. "Thank you, Honey Bear…" she murmured as she started pushing herself up on her tiptoes for a kiss and the way she smiled as she did...

Smiled and pulled at his shirt as she purred, "You deserve something, too, for being so understanding..."

Carl felt his breath catch because his wife was still the most beautiful woman he ever met and seeing her stare at him with hooded eyes and feeling her lips brush his always made him forget everything else. Everything but the way she made him shiver as they brushed across his cheek and ended up right next to his ear. Her hot breath made him pull her even closer as she whispered, "I'll set the table!"

Her words were throaty and her giggle was mean as she spun away then and left him staring with his mouth gaping. She was halfway to the dining room when she looked back over her shoulder at him.

Blind men would have seen that look, and he would have chased her on crutches if he had to, but he didn't. "Get back here!" She just laughed and dashed around the table for the kitchen, but he was almost a foot taller and all the faster for it. Fast enough that he caught her before she got even halfway to the hall, and she let out a shocked squeal as he picked her up and set her down on the counter.

A squeal he caught in a kiss and turned into a moan as he held her close. Close enough that she wrapped her legs around him. Then time and the world just went away as he lost himself in her lips and touch...

And came crashing back down on them with a horrified "Mom! Dad! Gross!" Words Carl almost ignored as he reached for his wife's bottom until his son added, "Gwen's right here!"

"Carl!" His wife gasped as she pushed him away, her face burning as she slapped his arm as the kids stood there at the doorway. Ben was as red as his mother and Carl couldn't see enough of his niece's face to even guess, not with it buried in her hands as she cringed behind her cousin. Carl would have felt so much worse if she hadn't already changed into her pajamas like she was home. Not that he imagined she ever caught her parents like this.

Natalie would never allow it.

"Sorry, Honeybadger," Carl sighed, but only some of it was from the guilt that got the better of him because she looked mortified as she stood there. The same guilt that made his wife blush red under her golden hair when their niece croaked something that might have been words

Words that his Sandy Bear met by standing up straight and giving him a look. "We don't have to be sorry and they don't have to be embarrassed. You know that Doctor - "

"Mom!"

The fight was right there. Carl could hear it in his son's voice and saw it in the way his wife flinched, but she didn't back down because she wouldn't. Not on this. So he used the two magic words he remembered hearing all the time growing up. "Dinner's ready."

"And I thought they ran fast when they went upstairs." The words sounded like a tease to anyone but him as they watched the two kids race for the table. He heard the worry and the guilt under them even before she added, "I just don't want them to…"

"I know," Carl said, his voice just as soft as he cut her fading words with another kiss. One that was worth it just for the way she relaxed into it.

Or she did until their son shouted, "DAD!"

"I can't wait until you have a - " Carl grumbled as his wife flushed and jerked away again and he choked on the words when he turned and saw his son and his niece standing by the table. Ben was still horrified, and Gwen…

Gwen had her face buried in his shoulder as she hid behind Ben just like Sandra was trying to do with him. "Dinner," The words were just a croak as he stared. Ones that made the two break apart, but they didn't make him feel any better as he grabbed up the pot and made their way to the table.

The table he wished he left the leaves in so it would fit ten instead of the tiny leafless circle his wife always wanted and he never minded. Not when it meant that she sat close enough that he could brush against her every time he moved. Now he minded as he watched his son grab the spare chair for Gwen and shoved it right next to his on the other side of the table. And shoved it there close enough that…

That Carl jumped when he felt his wife bump him. " - arl?" Carl jumped at his name and spun around to his wife, who was just holding out the spoon and giving him a look. "I thought you'd want to do the honors."

Carl just nodded as he grabbed the spoon and filled his niece's plate even as he fought down the urge to tell her that they were going to switch seats before she sat down as she just stared at hers as a flush filled her cheeks. After all, he'd watched her throw a fit because Ben was breathing all her air once. There wasn't any way that she'd...

Just sink down right next to her cousin. The flush still kissed her cheeks, but he was almost sure he saw her smile even as she grabbed her plate and held it out and he knew he saw his son's face split in one before he turned away. He knew his wife did, too, just from the way she breathed. Which Carl didn't do, not even once, as he filled his niece's plate.

Gwen's smile flickered a little then and vanished altogether when she found one of the hot dog chunks, which she poked at even as she said, "It looks delicious, Uncle Carl."

"Don't be such a Dweeb," Ben said as he poked her with his elbow hard enough that she jumped almost as high as Carl did as he waited for the fight that was coming. And that he missed as his son spun away from his cousin and rub the back of his neck. "It's just hot dogs. It's good!"

"It's one of your Grandma's recipes," Carl admitted as he made himself sit back down and swallow the words he wanted to say as he just stared at the two who weren't even looking at each other. Which seemed so wrong even if it was everything he ever hoped for and so much better than them fighting.

It stayed like that through the whole dinner, too. There were little touches and words that didn't mean anything but he couldn't help seeing them as he watched her, watched them and he didn't know why. They looked normal as they talked and ate, but he saw other things.

Like how Gwen laughed at all of Ben's jokes and how they jerked apart every time they brushed their arms and how they only really looked at and talked to each other. Or they did until Sandy said something, and when she did Gwen broke off into a long and happy story about some project she was doing with her friend at school. One that Carl only understood every other word of, and should have ended with Ben banging his head on the table.

Only he didn't, and that was the weirdest part of all. Not that he had manners. Ben was his son and as much as he loved him, but he didn't have any illusions on that score. No, it was how he asked questions. Real ones, even if they were hidden in the snark like they always were.

Questions his niece glowed at as she answered them and teased his son right back, which meant she was one step ahead of him when one finally came his way. "Is everything okay, Uncle Carl?" Gwen asked, her green eyes wide as she worried at the loose left sleeve of her pajama top.

"Yeah, Gwen - " Carl said with a cough as he dropped his eyes. " - I was just…"

"Dad…!" Ben cut him off as he threw his head back. "We're fine! Today wasn't even that rough!"

Carl blinked at that before he remembered the bruise check that they always did after karate. At first just because they worried when they heard him groaning about them when he just started the class, and out of something so much closer to terror when they saw the ugly black and blue marks. Horrible ones. Marks that Ben showed off to everyone but them and only got better and worse over time. Better because his son was and he didn't get hit anywhere near as often now, and worse because when he did it always left a mark. "You know the rules, Ben," Sandy said before he could, and the worry was written all over her face.

He hated seeing that worry.

"Fine!" Ben said as he pushed himself up because he did, too. He was wearing his lucky shirt, so he wasn't hiding anything on his arms, and he twisted back and forth just to prove that there weren't any anywhere else. "Happy?"

"What about your knuckles?" Carl said with a grumble that shut his boy up and made him glare.

A glare that only lasted until Gwen made a face next to him. "What about your knuckles? We were working on kicks today. We didn't - " then she sucked in a breath, one that was as much a warning as any rattlesnake would give.

"Gwen!" Carl called out as he pushed himself up. If he was lucky he'd stop her before she could needle his son like she always did. He wasn't. Today wasn't the day for luck, but it was one for surprises.

It didn't even seem like his niece heard him as she shoved herself out of her seat and turned on his son. "Ben! Who?! "

"Nobody!" Ben bit out as she smacked his arm again, but he didn't back down. "It's no big deal. You don't have to - !"

"It so is!" Gwen shouted right back with a stomp of her foot as Carl just blinked and felt lost. "I can't believe you! Like you weren't going to - "

Ben sucked in a breath at that before he shouted right back. "That was different and you know it!"

"It so wasn't!"

Carl just sat there and stared as the two shouted at each other almost nose to nose. The bits he got almost sounded like the conversation that he was supposed to have. The rest of it, he just got lost in the rest, but he caught enough that he knew he'd be furious when he figured it out.

Not that he got a chance.

"Gwen!" Sandra finally shouted. It wasn't with the bite that he'd heard in Lili's voice so many times, but there was still enough that the girl froze and went white. His wife's next few words were calm enough that they could have come after the kids fought over the salt, but he could see the worry and confusion in her eyes even as she said, "That's enough. Ben's dad is going to talk to him after dinner."

Ben cringed at the news even as Gwen reached out for him before she caught herself. "He is?"

"You better believe it, Sport," Carl said as he just eyed his son. It wasn't a death glare, not quite. Not yet. "So finish up."

The groan he got almost earned one as the boy sat down. Gwen moved to join him when Sandra called out again and there wasn't any confusion in her eyes this time, but there was so much worry. "Not so fast, young lady. What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing! See?!" Gwen said, the word coming too fast as she held out her right even as she tried to hide her left behind her back.

Carl hadn't even noticed how she'd barely moved it at all during the fight until then. Just her poking at the sleeve, but the way she winced as his wife's face turned into a scowl? He saw that and her eyes just got bigger and bigger as Sandra got up and hurried over. "It's nothing!" Gwen mumbled as his Sandy Bear pulled up the sleeve and Carl caught his breath when he saw the bandage that was hiding under it. The one he should have seen if he'd been paying any attention. And the one that was wrapped too well for her to have done on her own after her shower.

"Ben?"

"She needed help!" Ben said before Carl could say another word and this time he didn't flinch away as Carl just stared at him. He just glared right back.

"Honestly, Ben, why didn't you tell us?!" Sandra asked, but her eyes were wide and worried as her fingers danced over the bandage.

"Because it's nothing!" Gwen said, her voice too loud and the words too fast. "I just bumped a pan a couple of days ago when I was making a snack! I've got cream on it and every - !"

"Does your mother know?" Carl said as he got up and that question cut through all her words, and he got his answer just from how she looked away. It was all he needed as he started undoing the bandage. He had too much experience doing this at work, and he felt sick as he wondered what he'd see. Especially since there weren't more than a couple of layers of bandage wrapped around her skin. Enough to keep anything from rubbing, but not enough to really protect it. Of course not, she couldn't hide it if there were.

Gwen was so smart, but she was just twelve. Even with the first aid class she'd found over the summer and dragged Ben to, she was just a kid. They both were. "You should have told someone, you two! What if it got infected? What if - ?"

"Carl!" Sandra said, her voice a whisper and no less piercing because of it as Gwen hung her head and Ben glared up.

"It's not," Gwen said, her voice a whisper. "I've been taking good care of it and it's not that bad!"

Carl didn't say a word as he braced himself before he pulled off the last bit of bandage. He remembered so many horrors at work that he almost laughed when he saw the pencil mark wide thing that ran up most of her forearm. It was pink under all the cream she'd smeared on it, and looked ragged for a burn, but that was it. He stared as he let himself breathe again. "See?" Ben said finally, his voice hard and scared even as he grabbed for the bandage.

But Carl pulled his hand away. "We'll take care of it, Ben, "

"I'd rather - "Gwen started and stopped as Carl just stared back at the two of them and tried not to see how close Ben was standing to her or how she was leaning towards him and he wondered if they even knew it. If they were any older...

But they were just twelve and cousins. He told himself that again and again as he looked up and his wife just nodded and took the bandage and the girl. Carl watched his son follow after them and felt his frown get deeper, but what he did next caught even him by surprise as he raced after them and caught his son just before the stairs. "Come on, Ben."

"But - " Ben started as he watched his mother and cousin disappear. "I did it right! I wouldn't - !"

"I know you did, Sport," Carl said as he held his son in place. He was probably just going to tease her and make things worse, Carl told himself as he tightened his grip on the boy's thin shoulders and led him back down the hall. He kept telling himself that even as he pulled open the garage door again and said, "Your mom's just going to double-check and it's going to take them a few minutes so we might as well have our talk now. Man to man."

"Aw, man…" Ben groaned as Carl closed the door behind them and found the lights. "Mom and the principal have already yelled, isn't that - ?"

"No, it isn't, Ben," Carl said as he took a deep breath and smelled sawdust and motor oil. Two smells that usually made him feel better and didn't stand a chance in the face of his son's glare. "Why are you hiding stuff from us? You didn't tell us that she was hurt, and would you have said a word about the fight if you weren't caught?" His son's eyes finding the floor was all the answer he needed, and it still made him grab for the washing machine so he didn't stagger. "What did we do, Ben?"

"Nothing!" The word came so quickly, but they always did with his son. His hand moved fast, too, as it found the back of his neck which was never a good sign. "I just… It's just easier."

"Easier?" Carl said again, and it didn't make any more sense when he repeated it.

"You won't understand."

"Try me."

Ben shook his head at that and dropped his hand. Carl wondered if he even knew he was grabbing for the watch until he touched it and let it go like it was hot. Of course, he'd be thinking of his Grandpa. Carl understood even as he wished it didn't hurt so much. "I… We… It's no big deal! I just knew you'd freak over nothing!"

"Gwen getting burned isn't nothing, Ben!" The words were a shout that he didn't mean to let out and regretted the second he saw his son flinch. Flinch and drop his head like the whole thing was his fault somehow. Guilt made him drop his voice and squeeze the bridge of his nose as he looked for the calm he needed. "You did a good job wrapping it up, but she's got to be more careful."

That almost got a smile out of Ben. "That's what I told her." The words were a joke, but his voice was rough as he said them and there wasn't any sign of a laugh in them. None of it made sense. Not even a little. Carl tried to write it off as just being twelve, but that wasn't it. The only thing that came close was -

Carl slammed the door on that thought as he grasped for the only thing that did. "And the fight?"

That brought his son back to life. "I can explain!"

"You better!" Carl grumbled as he crossed his arms and stared at his son. "Considering how your principal was talking about suspending you if he caught you again!"

"I'm not! I just have detention all next week! That's all!" Those words were almost panicked, but the next was just angry. "I told him about karate, too, not that the jerk cared!"

"Don't you talk about your principal like that! Not around me, young man!" Carl bit out. "Maybe we should talk about karate, too, Ben. We didn't let you sign up just so you could get in more fights with J.T. and Cash!"

He waited for all the howls he was sure was coming at that. He knew his son loved Karate - It was the only thing that he ever saw the boy practice at that wasn't plugged into a TV and it was paying off better than he ever dreamed. Tomorrow was enough proof of that, and he wished that he could just tell his son how proud he was, but now wasn't the time. Now he just braced himself for everything but the confused look he got. "Cash? I wasn't - "

Carl nodded and crossed his arms tighter just so he didn't reach over and shake some sense into his son. Shake him until he figured out how serious this all was. "They caught you two, Ben! Mr. Thelen said so!"

"Didn't he tell you about the other three guys?! The ones who were beating Cash up?!"

Carl sucked in a breath and it didn't help. Neither did the fact he could see it was true. It was written all over his son's face. "What?"

Ben shook his head and shoved his hand through his hair. "Cash is a jerk, but even he doesn't deserve that!"

"You saved Cash?"

Ben rocked back at the words and looked disgusted with himself, but he didn't back down. "Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking either."

The words were mumbled and angry and Carl didn't know at who, but it should have been at him. "Cash?" There wasn't any way he could squeeze away the headache he had now, the one he deserved for not listening. "How bad - "

"They broke his nose again before I even got there," Ben finally said as he shuffled his feet and his face twisted into something like guilt. "Middle school sucks."

"Ben!" Carl said out of reflex.

One that just made his son's face twist again even as his hand went back to his watch again. "What? It does!"

"I know it does," Carl finally admitted into his palm as he rubbed his face and leaned back against the washing machine. "I remember. Just don't say it in front of your mom. Cash…"

"I know," Ben echoed with a smirk. "He really hated seeing me."

"I bet," Carl laughed at that. He knew he shouldn't, but he did. He wished it helped more or changed anything. "I know you want to help people, Ben. I've always been proud of that." He felt a little better when his son sort of smiled at that. "And I'm not going to tell you that violence is never the answer. We both know that that isn't true, but there are other ways to deal with bullies. You could - " The words get a teacher died in his mouth because he wouldn't have either and Ben knew it. He could see it written all over his son's face, so did the hard thing and told the truth. "I wish I had an easy answer, Ben, but I don't. Smarter guys than me have been looking for them since before I was born and they've had just as much luck finding them. All I can tell you is that your fists aren't going to make things any better. Not really."

It took him so long to figure that out for himself. That and a growth spurt that made everyone one else leave him and his friends alone, but if Ben was anything like him then that was still years away. He wished that his Dad was here because he always knew what to say, or Mom, who didn't need words, but they weren't.

He even wished for the books that were waiting upstairs when Ben shrugged and sounded so sure as he said, "They work pretty good for me."

"They sure do, Ben," Carl finally said with a shiver because there wasn't anything else, just him, and hearing his son say that made him feel cold. "How many years were you fighting with Cash before today?"

That wiped some of the smug from Ben's face as he shuffled his feet again. "I dunno…"

"I do. It was just about as long as you were fighting with Gwen." The blow was low and the look the words got him were horrified until he waved then off. "Not like that. I know you'd never. But you and Gwen are friends now, aren't you? And it isn't because you came up with the best insult, was it?"

Man, he hoped not. He'd already stepped in it once tonight. And he hoped it wasn't because of what he was sure he'd been seeing more and more of since their birthdays last year. "No…" Ben mumbled like he wished it was. "She's just…" Carl held his breath at that. "She's just a dweeb, but she's not bad."

The words should have made him feel better. They didn't. "Insults didn't solve anything with Gwen, and fists didn't solve anything with Cash or the guys you were fighting with today. Maybe there are other ways you can help people. I know it won't be easy, but maybe it's time you spent some time thinking about them? I'm sure Gwen would want you to, too."

That was another low blow. One that he felt bad about even as he said it, and he felt even worse when he saw his son jump at his cousin's name. It was a feeling he swallowed down as he watched his son. He knew that if Ben agreed with him he would have just been faking, but a part of him still hoped as he watched his son stare down at the watch on his wrist, the one Carl was wishing his father never got the boy when he finally nodded just a little and mumbled, "I guess."

They were the last words he wanted to hear, but there was something more behind them. Something that Carl grabbed onto because they didn't feel like a blow-off this time. Maybe, just maybe, his son was listening. "Good. That's all I wanted to hear. That and maybe you taking a few weeks off from being the Heavyweight champion of your - "

"OKAY. I get it, dad. I'm sorry." Ben cut in before he could finish.

Carl just sighed because he remembered when his son thought all his jokes were funny. Now Ben was just eyeing the door and it didn't hurt at all. "I'm your Dad, Ben. The bad jokes come with the territory."

"It's not that," Ben said with a wave of his hand as he eyed the door and shuffled his feet like he was just waiting for the starting pistol. "I just wanna go check on my Dweeb. So can I?"

Carl almost said yes because this day was enough already, but the way he said that. The way he said my and didn't even seem to know it, like the word just slipped out of his mouth… "She's been over a lot lately, hasn't she?"

Ben blinked and gave him a look. "I guess. So can I?"

Every Friday for the last month. Carl realized, and quite a few before that. All the way back to their birthday. He realized it and his stomach twisted into brand new shapes as he just stared at his little boy.

Only he wasn't so little anymore.

Ben hadn't had his growth spurt yet, but the signs of it were written all over his body and all over Carl's bank account what with the new clothes he'd needed a few weeks ago and the pantry that never seemed to stay full for long. That didn't even count the red spot he swore he saw hiding just under the flop of his son's wet hair. Who was only twelve. He told himself that over and over again. Only twelve and Gwen was his cousin and -

"That was the other thing," Carl said, almost choking on the words. "We weren't planning on seeing your cousin tonight."

Ben winced even as he grabbed for the doorknob. "I kinda forgot to tell you. Sorry. I'll remember next time."

"Next time," Carl repeated and the words felt like lead in his stomach. He had a feeling next time would be next week if he didn't do something about it now. "I want you to know that I'm very happy that you and Gwen have stopped fighting..."

Ben looked over his shoulder blinked in confusion. "Yeah?"

"I love Gwen, and I'm glad that you are getting along with her now, " Carl rubbed at the back of his head because he knew he was rambling, "but you know that you don't have to hang out just to make us happy, right?"

"I'm not," Ben said with his best 'dad's gone crazy' look and voice. "Are you feeling okay, Dad?"

"Not really," Carl admitted. He felt like he was drowning and there wasn't anything in sight for him to hold on to. "Don't you want to spend some time with your friends?"

Ben squinted a little and said, "I am," very slowly.

The words 'since when' almost slipped out of Carl's mouth, but he realized how ugly they sounded. Sure, they hung out for most of last summer, but he knew that was mostly because of Kenny, and Max leaving. He didn't blame either of them for holding on to each other, but things went back to normal when school started.

That's what he told himself anyway. Now he wondered. Now he stared at his son and wished that the answers were written on his face somewhere because none of the ones in his head were ones he liked. He didn't know, so he did his best. "Well, I'm glad that she's your friend now, but don't you want to spend more time with the guys?"

Ben shrugged. "I see them at school."

"You could have them come over more often."

Ben was getting a familiar and stubborn look on his face as he figured out where this was going. "They were over just last week."

Sandra said that a couple of his friends had come over to play some games and they had all left before dinner. They didn't camp out or bring their pajamas. "Yeah, but you have Gwen over every week. If you want, I'll take her home and you can call the guys up. I'll even spring for a movie and popcorn."

"Aunt Natalie and Uncle Frank aren't even home," Ben said as he crossed his arms and glared, but that wasn't why the suggestion didn't fly. Hell, it didn't even get off the runway. "You want me to hang out with my friends. I am. Right now."

"But..."

"Is there something wrong with hanging out with Gwen?"

Not yet, Carl thought, and he jumped at the thought. He shook his head. "No. No. Just... Remember that you have other friends out there." Ben looked at his father and didn't even blink. "It's just another thing to think about, okay?"

Ben's head made something that might have been a nod before he yanked the door open and Carl closed his eyes before he could hear it slam. "Good job, Carl. That went - " he started to mutter to himself as he reached for the ache behind his eyes again.

And then he heard his son stop instead of slamming the door or running away. He heard him stop and ask, "What was it like?"

He asked it in a voice so soft and worried that Carl's eyes shot open just so he could be sure that they really came from his son. His son who never sounded anything less than certain about anything. He didn't do anything but charge everywhere, too, but not now. Now he just stood there in the doorway with his hand on the handle. "What?"

"I've just been wondering. The first time… What was it like… " Ben said again like he was choking on the words and then he shook his head. "Nothing. Forget - "

"It felt great," Carl said, the words coming from the part of him he never tried to think about as he remembered the first time he punched his bully back, and the look on his bully's face as he sat there with a bloody nose. "I'm not going to lie, Ben. It felt great, but…"

Ben shot a look back over his shoulder at that, his eyes wide and somehow almost sad as he asked. "You mean mom - ?"

"Mom?" Carl asked before his son could finish just from the shock. "I didn't meet your mom until years after I punched Peter, Ben. What does she - ?" And it was like flipping a switch before he even finished the question.

"Nothing!" Ben said and Carl could have sworn he saw his son go white as he grabbed the door and yanked it open. Then he was just gone. Carl stared at the spot his son just was for another dozen heartbeats before he pushed himself up and followed after with a sigh he felt down to his bones.

Or he tried to, but Ben didn't make it far. He was just outside the door and staring. For the first time, Carl wished he hadn't bought a house that was so open as he stared, too. He stared at his wife and his niece as they stood in front of the fridge. Gwen's left sleeve was pulled back and now he could see it was puffy and he knew the bandage was done right as they both looked at the paper in Gwen's hand.

Ben's test.

Gwen was grinning as she looked up and laughed, and then for a moment she looked like she was about to come running when the two of them just froze and looked away as their faces turned bright red. One that didn't touch her grin even as she said, "Why didn't you tell me, you Doofus! Congratulations! I knew you could do it!"

And, Carl was sure he saw his son grin at the words. Then Sandra rushed their son with her arms wide as she laughed and said, "Come on, now that you two are done let's finish up dinner and do something special! My little man deserves - "

There were no words after that, just a horrified gasp of a "Mom!" before Ben shoved both of the girls away and dashed for the stairs. A dash that left them staring.

All of them but Gwen, who took a single step forward and shouted, "Ben?! What's - ?" She stopped then. Stopped and found Carl's face, and the look she gave him cut him to the bone even as Ben slammed his bedroom door hard enough that it felt like the house shook. She was gone like a shot a second later. The last they heard of her was Gwen pounding on Ben's door upstairs and shouting for her cousin until he opened it, and then the house shook again.

"What?" Sandy finally asked as she hugged herself tight and stared at the stairs and then him. "What did I say?"

"It wasn't you," Carl just shook his head and sagged. "Our talk could have gone better."

His wife's steps were as soft as her hug when she finally reached him. "He wasn't that mad about the fight even when his principal was chewing him out. What happened?"

"It wasn't the fight," Carl said, his voice rough as he rubbed his eyes. "I just made a mess of things."

"What did you say?" Sandy asked without any anger. She asked with a world of worry and sympathy in her eyes even as she held him close.

Carl almost didn't say, but she was his wife and he didn't hide anything more from her than he had to. "Gwen's been over a lot lately."

"I know," she said, and she sounded delighted as she stroked his back. "It's like when they were little all over again."

"Yeah," Carl agreed through the lump in his throat as he thought about all the times he caught his son on the phone his Grandpa gave him over the last few months, smiling like he hadn't in years and Carl knew who he was talking to even if he never heard a name just from the trash talk. About all the Fridays over the last few months where he'd watch Ben and Gwen disappear laughing upstairs, and somehow it was the quiet moments after that made him worry, and about the way his son got so mad a year ago. All the things that he'd kept inside that finally slipped out in six little words. "But they're not so little anymore."

Her fingers froze at the words, and her eyes were closed off as she leaned back. "What are you saying?"

He tried to find the right words. Words that wouldn't make him seem like a pig even though anyone could see that Gwen's body was changing, too. She was all knees and elbows now, but he saw how she ran like a gazelle on her long legs when she went by. Between that and how he was sure that when he heard her whispering something about bras to his wife last week while Ben was in the bathroom and they were in the kitchen getting snacks…

A whisper he only heard because he wanted some chips and had sworn the things off ever since. A whisper that made him even gladder he had a boy for as much as he loved her. When he told Frank, he did it with a laugh as he swore it was his new worst memory.

It was just a joke, but it didn't hold the title for long.

There wasn't a thing he couldn't tell the woman in front of him. There wasn't a weight she wouldn't help him carry because that was just the kind of person she was. And there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. But this…

"Did you see the look she gave me?" He asked because it was safe. It wasn't anything like the glare she gave her cousin because of the fight. That one was all worry, for as angry as she acted. No, the one he just got was so cold and ferocious that he was sure it would haunt him. And he was sure that he'd seen it before, even if he couldn't remember where.

Sandra just laughed. It wasn't a happy sound, not really, but it was a laugh. "And Lili doesn't think that she pays attention."

Natalie. Of course, she'd learned it from her mother. And that was where he'd seen it, years ago when he walked in on his sister-in-law while she was on the phone with her parents, back when they were still trying their damnedest to get her home after Frank...

The memory stole every bit of water from Carl's mouth. "How much time did you spend with your cousins?" His wife blinked at the jump before her face fell and he remembered. "Sorry."

"It's okay," His wife whispered as she sank against him and he held her. "Not much. I wish… but their parents didn't get along with mine." She laughed at that, and this time it was bitter. "Why?"

"We were always moving. I never spent much time with mine either," he admitted. His mom was an only child and barely talked about her family. Maybe there were still a few left in Ireland, but he didn't know. And his dad's side was barely any better except for when the man decided that they needed to see the farm or when Uncle Gordon came by. It wasn't even enough that Joel remembered them for the wedding.

Sandra cocked her head. "Then isn't it a good thing that they're so close? I would have loved it if..."

"Yeah. So would I." Carl said as she trailed off because it was true. And the fact that it was and the worry in his gut made him say more, "But I never had any cousins that looked like Gwen either."

The words were almost strangled and made Sandy's face burn as red as his niece's hair as she pushed him away so she could smack him. "Carl!"

He gave her a little helpless shrug because he didn't know what else he could do. "They're growing up so fast, and she's cute."

"She's beautiful," Sandy corrected with a hand on her hip and a fire in her eyes as she realized what he was saying, and her tone said just what she thought of it.

"Yeah," Carl said as his hand found the back of his neck. "Yeah, that does not make me feel any better."

"You're being silly. They're cousins. They're family and she's his best friend again. You're worrying about nothing." The words weren't harsh or angry, but that didn't make them any less final as she grabbed for her purse. "But if her being here bothers you that much I'll take her out for a girl's night until her parents get home."

Carl stood there for a minute and realized he'd somehow gotten the whole house mad at him before the good shows even started, and the thought was enough that he sighed and called out, "No. No, you're right. I'm being stupid."

Sandra didn't say a word. Not at first, her glare said everything for her. A glare that didn't last long before she let out a sigh and held out her hand. "It's just been a long day, Honey Bear. Come on, let's finish dinner and - "

"In a minute," Carl said as he took her hand and squeezed it. Then he let go. "I just need to get something out of my truck first."

That got him another look. A hurt one, but she just nodded and said, "Okay." That was almost enough that he stayed, but the words weren't a lie. He smiled at her as he closed the door and went for the cellphone that was waiting in the glove compartment where he left it. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't anything like the ones his dad got the kids. Sometimes he was jealous of that, especially when he saw his son on it at all hours, but the one he had did everything he needed.

For just a second he thought about calling his brother, even though they were out. Some of it was vindictive, and some of it was just because it was right. They had to know about their daughter's arm, and he needed someone he could talk to, but there wouldn't be any talking if he did.

Not from his brother, and especially not from Lili. There would just be a list of all the things he should be doing if he was lucky and if he wasn't…

He couldn't imagine what would happen if he told them what he saw. He just knew it would make what happened with Ben look pleasant. "Hell, it's Natalie. It would make World War II look pleasant." Not when he could just be imagining things.

There was only one person he wanted to talk to, but she was gone so he dialed the next best thing. Dialed and wondered why as he listened to the phone ring and ring like he had so many times before. He almost gave up when he heard a click and a man say, "Carl?"

"Hey, Dad," Carl said before he could finish, and he hoped the man could hear him over the low roar that was coming through the phone with his voice. One that made him sink onto the runner board as he shoved his free hand through his hair because he could hear the edge in his father's voice. The same one he heard when he was nine and made a call just like this one. "Everything's fine. You're busy. I'll - "

"Nonsense!" His dad said with as bright a tone as he could, but it didn't hide anything. Especially not how tired he sounded, or how worried. "I have a few minutes. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The words were right there. The words about the fight and the burn and how the kids were hiding things and what he was sure he saw. Almost sure. His dad would know. He was closer to the kids than any of them, as much as Carl wished that wasn't true. Even with him away for so much, he would have seen. He must have. Knowing his dad, he was just trying to figure out what he should say, or else he would just laugh and that would be the end of it. The words were right there.

And so were his mother's eyes as she watched, just like they always were.

"No," Carl said as he swallowed everything down just like he always had and eyed the open door. There was a cut near the bottom, one that he'd never noticed and oozed yellow foam. He'd have to get some duct tape when he had a chance, but for now, he just poked at it with his finger. "I just wanted to give you a call and see if you're sure about tomorrow."

He waited for the next few words and all the questions that needed asking and the answers that needed giving. Instead, there was just a quiet that went on and on. A quiet that told him everything he needed to know because he'd heard that before, too. One that made him feel sick as he asked, "You're not going to make it are you?"

His father let out a sigh that said everything even though he knew the answer even before he asked the question. He'd heard it enough after all. He remembered all the times he'd had this talk already, all the way back to the first time his mom handed him the phone as his brother stomped off, when it was so big he'd needed both hands just to hold it up and he'd somehow gotten tangled up in the cord.

So much had changed since then. Now the phone fit in the palm of his hand and the only cord was in his glove box for when he'd forgotten that the thing needed charging, Frank and he both had houses and families of their own and mom…

And mom…

Carl closed his eyes and almost remembered the way she smiled, sad and strong, as she stood there. He forgot about pulling at the yellow insulation so he could squeeze the bridge of his nose. Somehow he knew his dad was doing the exact same thing wherever he was and he wished that made him feel better. "I tried, son, but with the way things are here… I can't walk away. Not right now. The job's only half done and - "

" - and Tennysons don't do anything halfway," Carl finished with the man. He almost laughed at how familiar it all was. Almost.

"Never have, never will. I was just about to give you a call, but you beat me to it."

Carl hunched over at the words and the lesson behind them. They were good lessons, too. Lessons that got him everything, from the truck he was sitting on to the home that was just on the other side of the door. Lessons he'd learned from the man who always lived them, and who paid more for them than Carl ever imagined.

A price he only really appreciated when a nurse put his son in his wife's arms for the first time. Both of them were crying, even if Sandra's tears were so much softer as she kissed the top of Ben's head and held him close. A head that already had wispy, messy brown hair on it and a face that was all scrunched up and red as he clung to his mother and howled.

It wasn't a sad sound. Carl didn't think so anyway. Some part of him thought it was his son challenging the world, and nothing he'd seen over the last twelve years had changed his mind. It was a howl that was echoed in the next room over as Gwen did the same thing. The memory of the two always made him smile before, but now...

Carl still had that picture of his wife holding their son in his wallet. One that had gone with him on more jobs than he could ever count. One he would have carried with him around the world if that's what it took to give them everything they deserved just like his dad did. He'd do anything for them, even say the one thing he never had before. "Ben was looking forward to having you there tomorrow, Dad."

Even he heard the edge in his voice as he said those words. Words he never said for himself because he knew they wouldn't help even when he was six, that they'd just hurt his father and the man didn't deserve it, but Ben was his son.

"I know," Dad sighed, only now there wasn't any cheer in his voice. Not even the fake kind. Now he just sounded tired. As tired as he'd looked when he finally wandered home a week after the kids' birthday party and just stood at the door and watched them play video games with their friends. Stood there and stared instead of smiling except when the kids looked over. "I was looking forward to seeing him, too. Him and Gwen."

Carl still remembered the man's face as he stood there, and wished he could take the words back because he knew the look was there again and he didn't deserve it, but he couldn't. The only thing he could do was what any man could. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't - "

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Carl," his dad cut him off before he could finish because of course he did. "If I were you, I'd say the same thing."

"Like you'd say that to Granddad," Carl said with a laugh even though he'd never met the man. Some of his cousins had, though. And Dad and Aunt Vera had all sorts of stories about the man whose glare could strip paint and kept his family fed through the worst years of the Great Depression, even if they were all still suffering through the how. Some things just weren't food, even if you could live off them.

"To my dad? Sure. Pop Pop, though… He's a different story," Dad joked. Carl's grandfather was just a story, his great was barely even that, even if he had seen the farm and the look on his dad's face when they went. Sometimes he thought that farm was his dad's version of heaven. Other times…

Other times, he was sure it was just wherever mom was.

And there had to be a reason it was the only place that his aunt didn't tell stories about. Not really. Not that he blamed her. He could never put the words farm life and Aunt Vera together in his head, no matter how hard she tried. It was like picturing his son there. The barn would be on fire before the sun set, and it wouldn't even be his fault, not really.

"I still shouldn't have said it, Dad," Carl said, his voice firm because neither was this. "Work is work, and you do what you have to."

"That sounds familiar."

"It should. The man who taught it to me seemed like he knew what he was talking about." There wasn't any anger in those words. Maybe a little bit of hurt, but no anger.

"I sure hope so," Max said as he sighed again in the face of the dull roar behind him.

One that sounded more at home at an airport than a construction yard, but he'd seen some of the drills that they were using now. Things like that always got passed around the office. Things like what dug the Chunnel and he still hoped he'd see one day, just for the wonder of it, and that made him drop his hand from his eyes with worry as his mind raced. He didn't ask about the job, he knew better. Not that it mattered. Not when there were more important things. "Dad… You're not a spring chicken anymore. I know you're the best, but can't you just tell them to call someone else?"

He waited for the laugh and the lesson. He waited for something like always finish what you start or if you want something done right. Instead, all he got was, "I wish it was that easy, Sport."

And his father sounded so tired as he said it. Even more tired than the fact that he was 62 and still doing plumbing - and not the around-the-house type stuff - could have accounted for. And that was when Carl knew because he'd do anything for the kids, too. "If this is about money, Dad…" He said his mind racing.

Two summers. They let him take care of the kids for two summers and they didn't do more than send some pocket money even though they knew that the kids ate enough that they could bankrupt a small country. They didn't even think about it when the man told them not to worry. Sure, he had his Air Force pension and what he got from his Plumbing business, but…

But they never even asked how much that was. It just wasn't done. And then he took off right after Kenny…

It all made so much sense. Enough that he should have thought about it years ago. Enough that he closed his eyes as his father kept talking, " - don't have to worry about that, Carl. I make - "

"No," Carl cut him off. "No, if you do want to take the kids again this summer we're going to help. Me and Frank." He'd tell his brother later, but he couldn't imagine the man saying no. There were plenty of times he was still a pain, but not about this.

Their dad taught them better and it was the least they could do.

He even taught them even now. "Alright," his dad said finally. "Alright. If it'll make you two feel better. And I'm sure the kids would be glad for a couple more nights in real beds." That got the chuckle that it deserved. Sometimes it seemed like the bunk was the only thing that his son complained about once he stopped grumbling about his cousin every few seconds. Not that it changed anything. "They do still want to go, right?"

"Are you kidding, Dad?" Carl scoffed as he leaned back. "Wild horses couldn't keep Ben away. And Gwen's already circled her calendar." Three months that were all covered with bright yellow smiley faces. Frank showed him the picture he took of it on Sunday just so they could cry into their beer because the kids never got that excited for anything that they did.

But he'd do anything for them. Even wait for the day they came home as long as they had fun.

"Good," his father said before his good mood broke just a little. "With luck, this will all be wrapped up by then."

Those were the words that made Carl close his eyes because he'd heard them so many times before and he remembered each and every one. They were the words that made him and Frank bring up all the other things that the kids could be doing this summer, not that they listened. Not even for Learning Camp. "Yeah."

That was the only thing he could say, and the line went quiet except for the noise, which got a little louder and higher pitched. "I have to go now, Sport," his dad said with a sigh. "I'll try to call again tomorrow morning, but tell the kids that I said I'm sorry and I'll make it up to them. And I want lots of pictures from the ceremony, Carl! I know that my Pumpkin won't put up much of a fight, but don't let Ben talk you out of it! I don't care if he is making faces, I want to see it when he gets that new belt of his!"

Some of the promises Carl made for his family were hard. Some were almost harder than he ever imagined. This one wasn't. It wasn't even close. "Frank's already got the camcorder ready, Dad. And I don't think that Gwen will speak to him again if he forgets it."

The words should have been a joke, they were for one of them.

"I bet not!" His dad laughed and it sounded so good. Then the laugh faded. "They are doing okay, right son?"

Carl made himself keep smiling because he could hear the real question behind it - the one that worried about everyone, not just the kids - and squeezed down on his phone at the opening. It would have been so easy to just let it all out because he'd seen the looks the kids gave their Grandpa right before they came running up during that last visit, and the hesitation before Ben took the phone and there was some part of him that wanted to scream at the man on the other end of the phone for even talking to them about summer when he wasn't sure if he'd even be free, but it was too late for that. They were already making plans. So he broke the most important of his father's lessons for all the best reasons. "We're doing fine, Dad. But we'll be even better when you get home."

"I know." There were only a few more words after that. Words that were a relief. Words that were the calm before the storm as he hung up and walked back inside.

A quiet storm, because the kids hadn't come back downstairs even though they'd only eaten half their dinner. He stared across the kitchen at the empty table that was waiting for him and felt even worse until he heard his wife call out, "How's Dad?"

"Good." He blinked and let out a breath as he took a couple of steps down the hall and found his Sandy Bear stretched out on the couch, her blue eyes wide as she worried at her lip even as she sat back up and held her new book close to her chest. One that had something about porcupines and preteens splashed across the cover that he barely looked at as he walked over. She made space so he could sit behind her, and he did. "How did you know?"

"Who else would you call?" she asked as she put the book down and snuggled closer. He almost asked about it as he wrapped his arms around her, but he was sure he'd hear if she found something good. She must not have found anything in the first few pages, because she just sighed as she took his hands and squeezed. "I'm sorry he's not coming. And that I got mad."

"It's okay," Carl said as he brushed his thumbs over her fingers and the ring he found on one. His ring. The one he knew she'd never take off even if he didn't know anything else. "I was just being stupid. Dad said so."

"Never," His Sandy Bear said as she turned her head so she could give him a look. "Don't even pretend that he said that. I won't believe it."

"He didn't. I didn't even tell him," Carl admitted as he looked to the stairs and didn't wonder what the kids were doing. He didn't let himself. He just laid there and felt every ache of the day as he held his wife close and let out the groan he'd been holding in since he got home. "I used to think that things would get so much easier when I grew up." Sandra just made a noise at that as she reached up and brushed a hand through his hair. Hair that was still as wild as his son's even if it wasn't as thick as he remembered. Time and the world changed that. A world and his father and the aliens and monsters on TV and - and - "How is raising kids harder than smashing cement all day?"

They weren't the words he wanted to say, even though they were so true, but he couldn't bring up the rest. Not when his Sandy Bear's hand went so still just at those before it dropped back to the book she'd almost forgotten about. He wished he could take the question back because that was the one they'd been asking themselves for twelve years now. "I don't know," the blond in his arms finally said, "but it is."

And there it was. The hardest job, and there was only one thing he could do about that. It was one thing his father taught him even if he was never there. "I should go apologize. Their food's getting cold and someone has to tell them about dad."

Someone had to break their hearts again.

Not that Sandra let him up. "We can reheat it. Let them cool down first and have their fun tonight."

The advice was good and the feel of her leaning on him was even better, but guilt made him say, "If I wait, Gwen won't be over again for a month and Ben will never forgive me," even as he fell back into her arms.

Sandy shrugged as she took his hand and ran her fingers over his. "Well, then that solves one problem, doesn't it?" The words were a tease and he knew that she didn't mean them, but his dad taught him he should always take good advice when he heard it so he did.

- o - o - o - o - o -

He was almost right. Summer came before Gwen was in their home again and Ben…Ben didn't miss a week. He just went over to her house instead.