A/N: Hello, and thank you for taking some time to read this. I hope you enjoy it. Please don't hesitate to leave a review!

TW: There's an awkward conversation at the beginning that mentions abuse and abortion.

Chapter 38

"We need to talk," Chris said to his mother once she had shut the door to the apartment. Gwen sighed; she knew they needed to have this conversation, but she was dreading it. She was afraid Chris would hate her at the end of it, but he had the right to know.

"Are you hungry? I can fix a plate," Gwen offered, not sure if she was being maternal, or just trying to stall.

"Maybe later. I want to get this over with."

Gwen nodded, then sat down at the table. Chris sat across from her, his brown eyes still dark with anger and hurt. "Why?" was all he asked, but there was so much in that one word that Gwen felt like she was being crushed by the weight of all it was demanding.

"I was stupid. I was young, I was scared, and I was alone," she began, unable to hide the trembling in her hands. "My dad overheard me telling my older brother; I was hoping Greg knew where Jeff was, since they were friends. I didn't know that Dad was behind me. He was drunk, as usual. He…he wasn't a pleasant man to deal with, ever, but when he was drunk? The littlest thing would set him off, and me being pregnant out of wedlock wasn't a little thing, as far as he was concerned." She didn't tell Chris that her father had grabbed her by the throat and thrown her across the room, or that he stomped over to where she laid on the floor and proceeded to kick her while he yelled at her for being a stupid slut. "He kicked me out, disowned me, and told me if he ever laid eyes on me again, he would kill me. I believed him, because…" Because he had almost beaten Matthew to death once because her younger brother knocked a dish of beans onto the floor by accident. "Because he had given us plenty of reason to believe he would. When I finally crossed paths with your dad again, and told him that I was pregnant, he asked me if I was sure it was his." She breathed a rueful laugh; that should have been her first sign of what kind of man Jeff Taylor was. "I assured him the baby was indeed his, and he said he'd make things right, he just needed to talk with his parents first, and everything would be okay. A few days later, he came back and said his family had disowned him, they wanted nothing to do with him, or me, or our baby. But it was alright, he assured me, because we didn't need them, or my family; we had each other, and we'd be fine." Gwen realized this entire story was a clear testimony of just how big of an idiot she was, but Chris had surely figured that out by now. "He painted a pretty picture of how wonderful everything was going to be; and then he disappeared. I had gotten a job as a maid in a small hotel; it didn't pay much, but they gave me a tiny room to stay in, so there was that. They fired me when they found out I was pregnant, so I lost my income and my home. I didn't have a lot saved up, and it was hard to find a job…I was young, uneducated, and no one wanted to hire someone they'd be losing in a few months. I was so afraid that…that I wouldn't be able to provide for you, that I'd be a terrible mother, that I'd be a failure…I was just afraid. I thought, maybe…maybe your dad's family would take him back, and maybe my dad would take me back, too, if…if I didn't have the baby. It wasn't that I didn't want you; I just didn't know what else to do, I didn't know if there was anyone I could turn to. It wasn't a decision I made lightly, and I knew it was something I would regret forever. I still regret that I tried it, but I don't regret that it didn't work, and I have never regretted having you. I'm sorry, Chris. I don't know if I would have ever told you, because I'm ashamed of it. I'm very sorry you found out the way you did. I don't think your dad meant to hurt you, not really. I think he was trying to get at me. I understand if you hate me, and I won't blame you if you never forgive me."

Chris looked at his mother for a very long time after she finished her explanation, trying to decipher the jumble of feelings inside of him. It still hurt, knowing that she did try to abort him, and it probably always would. But he could see the grief and the remorse, and there had been clear anguish in her eyes when she spoke of the decision. He tried to imagine himself in her position; alone and afraid and unprepared for the situation. But he realized he would never find himself in a situation where he was alone, because she would never abandon him or disown him. There had been plenty of opportunities for her to have done so: she could have walked out at any time, or dropped him off at Mrs. M's and just never come back for him. She could have put him up for adoption, either right after he was born or at any point since. She could have done any number of things; but she had kept him.

And maybe she would have been better off, if she hadn't. Maybe she'd have a decent husband who took his responsibilities seriously; one who had a steady job and brought home enough money that Gwen wouldn't have to work two or three jobs, just to keep a roof overhead and food on the table. Maybe she wouldn't look like Death had promised to come back in five minutes but forgot all about her. Maybe she'd be happy.

Chris had memories of his mom not looking so tired and broken; but they were distant and faint, replaced long ago by the worn, pale woman across from him. But one thing about her had stayed the same as the years had gone by, something in her eyes that was there whenever she looked at him…even now, as she waited for him to decide if he was going to forgive her, he could see it. Shining through the stress and the strain, the worry and exhaustion, the shame and fear, was her love for him. It had always been there, bright and steady even as the rest of her wore away.

…Because she is willing to give everything for you...

It had been Mr. H's reply to why Chris owed Gwen anything, much less to hear her out. But it was true; whether it was working two jobs plus taking in laundry to provide food and shelter or putting herself between him and a perceived threat, she had spent his entire life doing whatever she thought was necessary to take care of him. Maybe part of it was guilt, but Chris knew that wasn't all of it.

"I don't hate you," he finally replied. "I think I did, for a few days right after I found out; but I don't now, and I think a lot of that was because of how I found out. I don't understand what you were going through then, and I know I never will. Not just because I can't get pregnant, but because…I don't think you would ever turn away from me if I needed you, no matter what I did. I realized, you could have left me someplace, or put me up for adoption, or just walked out of the apartment and never come back. You could have been like Dad, and not cared; or only cared when it was convenient for you." That was a truth that should have hurt to admit, but Chris wondered if he had realized it all along and was just too optimistic to believe it. "But you've been here through everything; and the worse things got, the harder you fought to provide. And, you agreed to pay off Dad's debt to Mr. L because you thought I was in danger. I guess what I'm saying is, if you really didn't want me, there have been plenty of chances for you to get rid of me in some way, but instead you've nearly killed yourself to keep me alive."

"Can you ever forgive me?" There were tears running down her cheeks; partially because of the pain of the subject, but also because her son displayed wisdom far beyond his ten years.

Chris nodded after a moment's thought. "I don't think it's my forgiveness you need, though. You need to forgive yourself."

"I don't think I can. What I did is unforgivable."

Chris slid out of his chair, came around the table, and wrapped his arms around his mother. He knew there was nothing more he could say, and that any peace she found from the matter could only come from herself, now. He leaned into her as she returned his embrace, feeling the air breeze past his ear and the vibrations of her voice. He knew these specific patterns; they had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. He didn't need to hear the words to know she was saying 'I love you.'

"Thank you for letting me explain," Gwen said after some time. "I'm sorry- "

Chris held up his hand. "You don't have to apologize for it any more, and we don't have to talk about it again, if you don't want to."

"I'll never want to," she admitted, "but if you ever have questions, I will answer them; at least as best I can. I've kept a lot from you, things you should have known. I thought I was protecting you from things, but I don't think I really was. I think I was protecting myself from things. I'm sorry, sweetie."

"Had anyone ever told you that you apologize too much?" Chris suddenly asked.

"I've been told that, yes," Gwen said, thinking of Mr. Lansky telling her that exact thing just last week. She smoothed his hair down, thinking it was just about time to cut it again. "So, are you hungry? I can still fix you a plate."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you though."

"Are you sure? You didn't eat much at dinner"

"Neither did you," Chris pointed out.

"Well, no, but…the job Mr. L got me? There are a lot of people there, and you know how I get when there's a lot of people. So I only ate a little bit so I wouldn't throw up a lot." She wondered if she would ever get comfortable enough working in the kitchen at Bobby's that she didn't throw up after every shift; decided that, no, she probably wouldn't.

"Then you should probably eat something now, since you threw up dinner."

"I'm not really hungry, and it's late, but I will eat a little something in the morning.".

"Promise?"

"Who's the parent here, kiddo?" Gwen asked with a smile. "But yes, I promise I will eat a little something in the morning. Why don't you get to bed? I know you'll want to get into as much mischief with Patty before she heads back home Sunday, so get some rest."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, sweetie."

Richard was exhausted. He had every intention of going home, taking a shower, and then collapsing onto his bed; but when he looked at that comfortable, inviting mattress, a sense of guilt overwhelmed him. He could picture Gwen spending her few free hours washing other people's laundry before she had to go in for her Saturday shift at the store. And the thought of resting while she was working so hard felt wrong to him.

So he at his kitchen table, a glass of whiskey sitting forgotten between his hands. His mask was on the table, staring at him.

I can't believe I lost my temper like that! he thought for the thousandth time that night. I know she's trying to think better of me, but I can't expect her to suddenly be completely fine with me. And I know she's prone to jumping to conclusions, insanely inaccurate ones, and voicing them without any further thought. True, I don't know how she got the idea that I wanted Chris to steal a car…that's like adding two plus two and coming up with 'bird' for the answer. But then again, she did say she wasn't sure if we had specialties or just did a bit of everything; and I guess thievery isn't exactly unknown in the bootlegging world. Hell, look at all the shipment hijackings…oh, shit. I am a thief. Richard sighed wearily and ran his hand through his hair. He'd been responsible for a few hijackings over the years, going all the way back to his days with Jimmy. Trucks and all.

"Fuck," he muttered, burying his face in his hands. The guilt of lying to her added its weight to his already heavy conscience. He had never actually thought of it as theft; more like disrupting the enemy's supply chain. That was probably because he still saw himself as a soldier, in this strange underworld war of bootleg booze. But for decent people like Gwen, people who worked hard at honest, necessary jobs to earn a few bucks every week; they would see it as one more crime in the illegal liquor trade.

It was easier to exist when he didn't care. He could go about his day-to-day without worrying about what people thought of him. He could intimidate people and know that it was justified. He could go back to his apartment and not be concerned about the happiness and well-being of other people.

But he couldn't go back to that. He couldn't be that empty shell that felt nothing. He didn't want to do that. He had never wanted it, but right after the war it was the only way he could be; and after losing Jimmy and Angela it was easier for him to be that way….to feel nothing, to not hurt. But hurting proved he was human. And, after so many years of being an unfeeling being, he needed to be human.

He just had to figure out how to reconcile who he was now with who he would have been, if not for the war. The first step in that was to admit to Gwen that he had lied to her. He knew it would only further shatter her trust in him; but if he couldn't be the person he should have been, he could at least be the honest person his parents had raised.

He spent the remainder of the night staring at his mask, letting it silently judge him when he grew too tired to keep judging himself.

Shortly before dawn, he cleaned up, got dressed and headed to the nearest subway station.