Monk had once again fallen asleep in the chair beside his father's bedside, unable to fight the exhaustion that seized him. He would wake up briefly when the nurse came in, then fall back asleep as soon as she left. The frequently interrupted sleep prevented him from sleeping deeply and caused him to dream vividly. He dreamed mostly of his childhood. He was back in his childhood home, taking care of his mother and Ambrose when they refused to leave their rooms after his father left. He had made a simple supper and was now in the kitchen doing dishes. He thought he may have heard a noise at the front door, but when he looked, no one was there. Then, he heard a voice. It was muffled at first, but then it was a little clearer. "Ad… Adri…" It sounded as if someone was trying to say his name. "Aaaddrn" It was definitely someone trying to say his name, and it sounded like his father's voice.

"Daddy?" he said aloud in his dream, the sound of his own voice waking him. He looked around, disorientated, but when he looked at his father, he knew he was the one who had called his name. Jack's eyes were now closed. Adrian found his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Dad, it's Adrian. I'm here. Dad? Please wake up!" When his father didn't respond, he put his head against his shoulder and wept, fearing he had missed his only opportunity to say goodbye. As he lay there, he felt it all. He felt the hurt from when his father left. He felt the betrayal of his abandonment, and he felt the anger, but he also felt regret. He deeply regretted the wasted years of hanging on to that anger, even after Jack had asked for his forgiveness. Most of all, he regretted that he may now, never have the chance to tell his father he loved him and forgave him. He had waited too long. Adrian sat up, sighing a deep sigh. He went to retrieve his handkerchief, but as he tried to pull his hand away from Jack, the hand he was holding pressed ever so lightly into his.

He heard the muffled voice again. "Adrnn…"

He jerked his head around, and this time, Jack's brown eyes were open. They were clouded and more scared than Adrian had ever seen, but they were open.

"Dad!" shouted Adrian. "You're awake. I thought I was going to lose you, but you're awake!" He wept again, but this time, with tears of joy.

Jack was astonished to see his son openly weep over him, but as he looked around his hospital room and the wires and leads attached to his own body, he began to remember. He remembered standing in his kitchen, making a sandwich, then he remembered the searing pain in his head, just before everything went black. He tried to speak, but his mouth and throat were so dry, and the words just wouldn't come out right.

Adrian saw him struggle and said, "Don't try and talk yet. You had a stroke, but you're going to be ok." He called the nurse, and soon a whole team of nurses and doctors, including Dr. Barnett were there. After a thorough examination, Dr. Barnett gave Adrian the good news that his father had a good chance, with proper therapy, for a full recovery. They would begin rehab in the hospital as soon as he was strong enough, then move him to a stand-alone rehabilitation center next door.

After a couple of hours of intense activity, Jack and Adrian were alone again. Jack had been given some water to soothe his parched mouth and throat, so he tried to speak again. It took him longer than usual to get the words out, but they were told to expect that, and it should improve quickly, compared to the motor functions on his right side. Thankfully, Jack was left-handed, so he would still have full use of his dominant side.

After some light conversation, Jack suddenly opened his eyes wide and lifted his good hand. "He…hero?" he asked.

"Your dog?" Adrian said. "He's fine. Your neighbor, Grant is taking care of him at his house." Jack nodded and swallowed with relief. "You know dad, that dog probably saved your life." Jack raised his eyebrows in question. "Grant has been in to see how you're doing. He told me he went to check on you because Hero wouldn't stop barking. He found you on your kitchen floor, and thankfully, it was quick enough to get you the help you needed."

Jack closed his eyes briefly and a single tear slid down his cheek. "Graaant, he… he's… good… kid."

"Yes, he is," said Adrian, "and how about that dog? You got him just in time."

Jack smiled weakly. "Doc…tor's orders. Need...to...blood press…ure down."

It wasn't long before Adrian could tell Jack was growing tired, so he told his father to rest, and Jack was soon asleep again. Adrian watched him for a while, so glad the long day and night of waiting and fearing were over. He was amazed at the lightness he felt in his heart after he decided to let go of the anger which had weighed him down for most of his life. He smiled as he watched his father peacefully sleep. He was glad he had chosen to come, and he was surprised to find he was actually looking forward to spending time with him again. He didn't know what the future held, and he knew allowing him back into his life meant taking a risk on being hurt again, but he had decided love was worth the risk. He would rather risk his heart be broken than allow it to become so hard as to be unbreakable. He reached over and smoothed Jack's hair. "Sleep well, Dad," he said.

Later that afternoon, he heard a knock on the door and looked up to see Grant Matthews poke his head in. "Grant, come in," said Adrian.

Grant walked in and eagerly looked from a smiling Adrian to Jack Monk. "Is he ok?" he asked.

"He woke up around 5:30 this morning," said Adrian. "His doctor predicts a full recovery after therapy."

"Oh, that's good news, that's good news," he said, taking a seat as quickly as he could. He raked his hand through his auburn hair, not realizing until then how worried he had been.

Adrian's face turned serious. "Thank you, Grant, if I didn't say so before. Thank you for saving my father's life."

"Just doing my job," he said hoarsely.

"I think it was more than that. You are a good neighbor and a good friend."

Jack, having heard the commotion, stirred and woke up. He became agitated as once again, it took a moment for him to register his surroundings and remember the recent events. Adrian gently rubbed his arm, effectively calming him as Natalie had so often done for himself.

"Hey Jack," said Grant. "How are you doing?"

Jack was quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Been bet…ter. Hear I… owe you."

Grant chuckled self-consciously. "Just doing what any friend would do."

The three talked for a while, Grant peppering Adrian with questions about his years on the San Francisco police force and his work as a private consultant, when suddenly, Jack looked at Adrian, and said, "Son, you…you're…a mess."

"What?" Adrian asked.

"You do look a little rough," said Grant. "When did you sleep or eat last?"

Adrian rubbed his chin and felt the stubble, then looked down at his wrinkled clothes. He figured his eyes were probably bloodshot too, after three nights of little sleep. He felt his stomach rumble and also realized he hadn't eaten since the mediocre meal he had on the plane the day before.

"Go home," Jack coughed out.

"What? I'm not leaving you," Adrian said.

"No…no, my house," Jack said slowly. "Go...eat… sleep."

Grant looked at him and nodded as he pulled a set of keys from his jacket and handed them to him. "Yes, go get some rest. You must be exhausted."

"But…"

"I'll stay with him," said Grant. "I don't work tonight."

"Come back… morning," said Jack, slowly.

"Are you sure?"

"You won't be any good to him if you don't take care of yourself too." Said Grant.

Adrian felt guilty for leaving, but he knew they were right. He was exhausted and hungry, and he desperately needed a shower and a shave. He said a quiet thank you, then picked up his bag and said goodbye for the night. He took a taxi to Jack's house, too tired to even care about the germs and dirt that lurked there. He stumbled into the house and set his bag down. He pulled out some clean pajamas and showered and shaved. Feeling refreshed, he made a sandwich and warmed up some soup. Clean and nourished, he was still tired, but there was one thing he had to do before crawling into Jack's guest bed.

Julie was just coming downstairs when she heard the phone ring. She stopped mid-step when she saw her mother run to it and breathlessly pick it up.

"Adrian!" Natalie shouted. "I love you too, babe. How's your dad? He did? That's wonderful! She thinks he'll make a full recovery? Oh, I'm so glad to hear that! How was your flight? Really? I'm so proud of you. Oh, you're welcome. You wrote one to me too? You're so sweet! I can't wait to read it. How long are you going to stay out there? Another week in the hospital, then a rehab center? Well, how long will that be? Oh ok, I understand," she said quietly. "What? No, no I understand. We'll be fine." She tried to hold back a sniffle. "Guess who's here? Yes, Julie. She got kicked out of her dorm because of a mold problem, so it was perfect timing. She'll be here at least until the end of the week, maybe longer. Oh, honey, I bet you're tired. Go sleep and call me again tomorrow. I love you so much." She kissed into the phone, and just as she hung up, Julie came running into the room.

"That sounded like good news. Is grandpa going to be ok?"

Natalie put her arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "Yeah sweetie, he's awake, and it looks like he's going to be ok."

Julie hugged her back. "I'm so relieved Mom. When do you think we'll see him again?"

Natalie smiled at her daughter. She had only known Jack Monk for a short time, but she seemed to already love him as much as her biological grandparents. "I'm not sure. Hopefully soon," she said, her voice trailing off.

"What is it, Mom? Is Dad ok?"

Natalie smiled again. Julie had always been very perceptive of her feelings. She could never hide them from her. "He…he's fine. He just won't be home for a while, at least not for a couple of weeks."

"What? Why?"

"Well, Jack will need to be in the hospital for at least another week, probably more, then he will be moved to a rehab center. Adrian wants to stay with him until he's sure he can manage on his own."

Julie pulled her mother in for a full hug when she saw her tears begin to form. "I'll stay as long as I can, Mom. We'll be ok."

Natalie squeezed Julie, then pulled away, leaving her hands on her shoulders. "How did I ever manage as a navy wife? Your dad would be gone for months and months at a time. What's wrong with me?"

Julie laughed. "There's nothing wrong with you, Mom. You've changed is all, and Adrian's not Mitch. You can't expect to feel or act the same way."

Natalie looked deep into her daughter's eyes. This time, she asked out loud, "So kiddo, when did you get so grown and wise?"

Five days passed with Adrian going back and forth between Jack's home and the hospital. When he wasn't with his father, Grant Matthews usually was, as well as Patrick Kavanagh popping in as often as possible. In those five days, Jack had been moved to a private room and had begun the rehabilitation process. It began with light exercises, performed by a physical therapist, but for two days, Jack had been able to walk again with a walker. He hated the walker and said he wasn't an old man, but Adrian told him that it was either a walker or a wheelchair. Jack chose the walker. Jack then surprised everyone with his exceptional recovery. Adrian said it was because he was too ornery to stay down for long, and Jack proved his point by harassing everyone from his nurses to his physical therapist. Adrian wondered if some of the hospital staff might have preferred if his father's speech had not returned so quickly. On this particular day, after his therapy session, Jack was enjoying a trip down memory lane with Adrian.

"You know what Adrian," said Jack. "After I get out of here, we need to pull down the old Monopoly game and have a match. Do you remember those games we used to play with Ambrose? Sometimes, we could even get your mother to join in too."

Adrian laughed. "I do remember. Those were some fun times. And popcorn, we'll have to make popcorn…"

"With cinnamon," said Jack.

"Yes, with cinnamon." Adrian put his finger against his temple in thought. "You know, it's funny. When I met Jack Jr., I had been skeptical of his story, but when he put cinnamon on his popcorn, I knew he had to be your son."

"Adrian," said Jack. "I'm sorry about all of that. He shouldn't have involved you."

"No, no," said Adrian. "He didn't murder that woman. The truth needed to come out, and besides, he's family. We can go see him when you get back to San Francisco if you'd like."

"That would be nice… What do you mean when I get back to San Francisco? You mean the next time I come visit?"

Adrian's answer was delayed by the knock on the hospital room door. They both looked up as Dr. Barnett entered with a rare smile on her face. "Jack, Adrian," she said, nodding to both of them. "How are you feeling today, Jack?"

"Stronger," he said. "When are you going to let me out of here?"

"Well, that's actually what I'm here to talk to you about," she said, looking at his chart. "Your recovery is coming along very well. I think you'll be ready to move over to Midland Rehabilitation in a couple more days. We'd like to see you gain a little more use out of that right arm and hand, so you can be more independent with things like bathing and dressing. Let's see how you do tomorrow." Jack grunted. If she only knew how much he'd like to do those things without help. "The other good news is, your most recent CT scan shows that your blocked blood vessels seem to be almost clear now. We'll be prescribing a blood thinner and blood pressure medicine, but with diet and exercise, you may be able to come off of those at some point." Jack grunted again. He wasn't looking forward to the diet they were probably going to put him on.

"Ok gentleman, that's all for now. I will check back with you again, after tomorrow's PT session."

"Thank you, doctor," they both said.

Adrian looked over at his father. "That's good news. I'll stay for another week or so while you're at the rehab center, then I'll help you pack up, and we can look into outpatient rehab in San Francisco."

Jack had been lost in thought, but at the name of his old hometown, he turned towards his son. "San Francisco? Who says I'm moving back there?"

"Well, I know Ambrose has been trying to talk you into it."

"Yes, he has. I'm sure he gets lonely in that big, old house."

"Do you want to move back?" Adrian asked.

"Well sure," said Jack. "I would like to be closer to my family, but what about you, Adrian? Do you want me to move back, you know, for good?"

Adrian leaned forward in the chair he had spent so much time in over the last week. He gently put his hand on Jack's arm. "Yes, I want you to come back too, for good. My girls deserve to know their grandfather, and I would like to have my father around more."

"Son," he said softly. "This has been a hard week for both of us, and I couldn't be more grateful that you came to be with me, but you don't have to say that. I…I know all too well what I put you and your brother through. I understand if you want to keep a little distance between us." He was quiet for a moment. " I can't expect you to ever really forgive me."

"Dad…"

"There's no excuse for it. What kind of father abandons his children?"

"Dad…"

"I have lived with the consequences and I figure I'll do so for the rest of my life."

"Jack…"

"I don't deserve anything else."

"Are you done?"

"I suppose so. Why?"

"Because I've been trying to tell you. It's already done."

"What's done?"

"Forgiveness. I forgive you and so does Ambrose. We want you to come back home…where you belong."

Jack had never been one to cry openly, but he couldn't fight the tears that were forming in his eyes this time. "You, you do?" he asked as he tried to choke them back.

Adrian nodded as his own tears formed. "I love you, Dad," he said.

Adrian laid his head on his father's shoulder and Jack patted his back and ran his hand over his hair, just as he did when Adrian was a young boy. When he had control over his voice again, Jack said, "I love you too, Son."