Finn/Devane Manor

The week before Christmas was becoming the most exciting and mysterious time of the year in the Finn/Devane household. Such scheming and planning, such putting of heads together in secret corners, such counting of presents, such hiding and smuggling of things out of sight so that a certain inquisitive golden-haired child would be surprised by her bounty on Christmas morning. Gifts were labeled with the names of recipients and givers and were worth their weight in gold if love and good will counted for anything. It was the time of year when the air was simply charged with wonderful secrets.

But there was no enthusiasm for secrets in Finn's heart now. Only shame and sorrow filled him now that he was done confessing his greatest betrayal. From the first moment of his remembered life, Finn had loved his father. Indeed, deep down in his strange, wayward heart, he had cared for him when he had told him in his quiet and serious way that he didn't want to see him again and closed the door in his face. Undeterred, Gregory had returned again and again, so Finn felt there was no choice but to hurt and gall him in a score of petty ways. He astonished his father by his fierce outbursts of anger that seemed to him for the most part without reason or excuse. Each time he hoped it would be the last, and indeed eventually, his phone when silent, and the knocks on his door ceased. The final straw had come when Gregory had made a last attempt to invite Finn to Christmas, which he had declined with such cold and biting sarcasm that his dad, harassed and bewildered, was angry with the relentless anger of a patient man roused at last.

When he set his mind to a task, he did it thoroughly.

Hamilton Finn had buried his love for his father deeply. And in his guilt and agony, he would not let himself remember where he had dug its grave. And so he moved on, but he felt so strong a distaste for his lonely, purposeless life that he was in no hurry to go forth to meet another day of it. But life had continued, and eventually, he found ways to mimic a full life through Reiko, only to lose her because of his own foolish mistakes. Her death had left him desolate. To that point, she was the only human being who had ever understood him, and even then, he wasn't able to muster the courage to tell her the truth as to why none of his family was in attendance at their wedding.

And Chase. What could be said in defense of his treatment of him? Sometimes when faced with the very thing that reminds one of the unjust deeds that have been committed, anger is the only response that feels natural. Injustice begets injustice.

He moved to set the glass he was holding down. Finn shivered yet over the bitterness of that time and felt compelled to step closer to the fire even though it couldn't provide the warmth he needed to banish these memories.

"Thank you for telling me, for trusting me." He heard her say.

"I trust you with my life, sweetheart, but you are marrying into a Greek tragedy."

"No…" she said soothingly.

"Yes." He pushed back. Finn realized his eyes were welling up once more. He silently cursed himself for shedding tears- they did nothing to change his situation. Also, he didn't want to cry in front of her.

"Oh no...it's ok." She abandoned her perch on the edge of the couch and drew near. He let her take his hands in hers.

"Look, there is nothing you have told me that changes the way I feel about you. You are still the man I love." She watched as he broke down. Anna flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her. She felt as if her heart must break from the sadness in his voice and eyes. He understood her mute pardon. In their embrace, the past was put aside.

"You are letting me off way too easy."

"I think you have punished yourself enough. There is no reason why you can't have a proper relationship with your father despite everything that has happened."

"I want to believe that. I really do. I just don't know where to begin." Once he has told Anna that he wanted to make the most of the time that he had left in life, could it be possible that his father could be a part of his world again?

She watched as another tear welled and then escaped. On instinct, Anna reached out and caught it with the pad of her thumb, abruptly stopping its progress before it could roll any further. Her heart was breaking for him. If there was one thing the world had taught Anna, it was that guilt was a terrible taskmaster, causing those in its clutches to do desperate things; how the spasms of remorse and anxiety could come on fast and strong.

"It looks like you began tonight. I came home to a lot of smiling faces."

Finn nodded. "We had a good time. Dad taught us to play poker, growing up. Well, he taught me to play poker, Chase tried his best, but his whole face and body is a tell."

"You definitely have the better poker face. Sometimes even I have trouble knowing what is going on in that handsome head of yours."

"You know me better than anyone. All along, you have been pushing me to reconcile with my dad."

"I think I just nudged you in the direction you wanted to go."

Finn laughed. "Nudged? More like threw me into the deep end, and I think you enjoyed watching me flounder."

"Maybe a little."

Finn studied her wonderingly, overcome by her sense of soft comfort. He could not help remembering at the same time how patient Anna had been with him every time his past had snuck up on them. She had embraced Violet like she was her own, she had welcomed Chase long before he could, and she seemed to know that he wanted his dad in his life. Anna had always looked past his hangdog look and never lost faith in him. He had just revealed his biggest sin, and there she stood there listening, serene and compassionate, thanking him for his trust. It was he who was thankful. She still loved him even though he could hardly love himself for the things he had confessed to her.

"I know what it is to push someone away because you are afraid of the damage a secret will do. I did it to you, and you taught me that all my worry was unfounded."

"And you are returning the favor now?"

"No one likes to see the person they love hurt or in pain, and I'm no exception. I love you, Finn.

"Is this why you said you were a cold-blooded creature? Because of the situation with your father?"

Finn was silent but she understood.

The clock struck ten. Anna placed her hand on his chest, above where the bullet had entered; she could feel his heartbeat and gave a silent prayer of thanks that he was healed and with her. She loved him deeply and was not blind to his defects, just as he was not blind to hers.

"Why don't you head upstairs and maybe take a shower and relax. In my experience, warm water is a good way to treat emotional distress, and you have your first day tomorrow, and you need rest."

"What I need is you." Finn gazed once more into her eyes. A long look passed between them. He felt content to look into her dark eyes and sharp features, refined by the years into a cameo-like delicacy, and the dark silken hair fell in waves to her shoulders.

She smiled. "You always have me. You know that."But I need you now." " He had her close against his heart now; the breath of her lips mingled with his.

His own familial conflict temporarily forgotten, he now focused his sharpening gaze on the woman in front of him. Then he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply. He felt her body melt into his, and embrace held her tightly against him. Some people had the knack for getting wishes granted. Finn had never been of that ilk, or at least he didn't believe so, but at this moment, he realized that he had everything he needed right here in this house; anything or anyone else was a bonus.

He took her hand and led her upstairs to the sanctuary of their bedroom, and Anna found herself backed up against the nearest wall. Her lips parted, ready to deliver the usual objections about how the doctors have said to take it easy when it comes to moderate to vigorous "exercise," but what comes out instead is a sigh of approval. Finn's parted mouth meets hers in another fervent kiss; hands reached down to grab hers while he continued to kiss her. Anna's moans vibrated against his mouth, her legs becoming weak; she anchored herself in his firm grip, the only thing keeping her standing. His lips trail down her neck. Anna was patient until her body was laid bare and then hurried to get him in a similar state. She lightly touched where his incisions were held closed by stitches and tissue glue, covered by a special kind of adhesive tape.

"We match now," Finn whispered into her ear. Anna looked up at him bewildered. Finn smiled and leaned down to kiss the small indent on the side of her right shoulder, caressing her own souvenir from her past.

"A gunshot wound is not something I ever wanted us to have in common," she said softly. Her face turned softer as she looked over his anxious face. He was strangely winsome in his concern. Anna's hand stroked his chest, feeling the heat radiating through her palm; it was pleasant and welcoming, as always.

His lips returned their attention to her shoulder, and the burden of her regrets vanished completely, no longer gnawing at her thoughts as he led her to bed. Finn did not rush the sensation, leaving her in control. As he pressed her into the mattress, She deepened the kiss, and her hand found the back of his head, keeping him close while he took her to bed.

When their breathing had steadied, and she lay folded in his arms, Finn reflected that he hadn't entered Anna's life willingly. No, he had been dragged into the whirlwind of her existence by the sheer magnetic energy that flowed about her. It had not yet occurred to Finn that he was in love until much later. He thought of nothing but Anna Devane—her lovely, lovely face, her dark hair, her slim form, and, more than all, her compelling eyes. He saw them wherever he looked, even if he tried not to; they drew him in. And nevertheless, now he was embedded in her life and the family that came with her. The same could not be said in reverse, he had worked hard to keep his relations at arms length, but he should not have been surprised that she would be like a dog searching for a bone, refusing to give up on folding his erstwhile family into their lives. And he loved her for it.

Perhaps secrets, vulnerability, and honesty were meant to be tumbled together in a never-ending cycle Finn thought as exhaustion overtook him.