Alison shot up out of slumber, breathing in deeply and eyes darting around the bedroom. It took a moment, but she recognized the familiarity of her new accommodations. She breathed out slowly, and then lifted a hand to her face. Fingers rubbed at her face as she looked towards the digital clock to the left of her. Almost seven. Pressing her lips together, Alison lied back down and stared up at the ceiling. Days of sleeping in were long gone. Had been that way for a while, so she might as well start her day. Another day in Banshee, Pennsylvania. Still, she lied there for a few more moments, keeping her mind perfectly blank.

Then with a sigh, Alison lifted up again, removing the covers from her body. It had been about six nights since she had moved in, and yet her body still reacted as though it was a strange new place. She hoped she would get used to it soon. After all, she had planned on living here for a few years, if her finances went accordingly, and then move into a much bigger house with a better backyard. Her child was already quite active. This small backyard would not suffice for very long.

Speaking of which, it wouldn't be long before her daughter woke up, so Alison had a limited time for her portion of the morning routine. Moving quicker, she left the comforts of her bed. Scratching at her stomach, she headed over to the open door. As she walked down the hallway, a yawn stretched her mouth open. She halted once she came to her daughter's closed door. Carefully, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Through the slight gap, she could see that her daughter still slept in her crib. She lied on her back, arms around a stuffed grey and white penguin. The nightlight, which shined the wall with stars, was still visible even with the morning sun peeking through the curtains.

Alison tilted her head and smiled before shutting the door quietly. Despite her child's active nature, she hadn't began attempting to climb out of her crib yet. Still, maybe the next time her birthday came around, she would buy a toddler bed. Sighing lightly, Alison continued down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Once she was finished with her portion of the morning routine, she backtracked to her room, tossing her night clothes in the laundry chute that was located in the hallway. The chute led directly to the basement to the hamper on top of the washing machine. Alison made sure the large towel was secured around her body, and then walked to her room. There, she hastily changed into casual clothing—just grey leggings and black t-shirt two sizes too big for her. It had Iron Man's mask plastered on the front.

After brushing her hair back into a ponytail, Alison made her way back to her child's room. She turned on the light, and then walked towards the outlet for the nightlight. Already, she could hear her daughter rousing from slumber. Her tiny groans gradually turned into soft cries. Rolling her eyes, but smiling, Alison turned her full attention to her daughter. "Aww…! Mommy's right here, demigoddess!" she cooed, scooping her up and holding her closely. She did this every morning. Cried a little bit upon waking up, but quickly stifled once she had been picked up.

Alison rubbed her back, up and down, and patted her lightly, rocking side to side in order to soothe her daughter. Usually the morning nothing cries were because of a wet bottom. Sure enough, after checking, Alison found her daughter in need of a fresh diaper. "You are definitely getting potty-trained this summer," she told her. Her baby only jumbled a few words before leaning in for a kiss. Alison giggled and return the cute gesture. "Muah…!"

"Muah…!" she echoed in glee. Her child was quite the affectionate one.

"Okay, let's get you changed."

"No!"

Twenty minutes later, Alison sat across her daughter, who was positioned in the high chair. The girl was playing around with her sliced banana and strawberry pieces, but she was also eating them. Occasionally, Alison would spoon feed her some of her scrambled eggs. Her daughter still had trouble with eating with a spoon, so for now finger food was best. That catastrophe with the applesauce still weighed on her mind. Now, though, she could look back on that with amusement, but she would not be serving her child any applesauce in the near future.

Suddenly, the doorbell's ringing broke through her thoughts. Alison narrowed her eyes as she stood up from the table. "Now, who could that be?" she murmured. Her hand distractedly reached out, fingers sliding through her daughter's hair. She then turned, shifting her body at an angle in a poor attempt to discern who had rang the doorbell. Frowning, Alison walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. She approached the door and looked through the peephole. Furrowing her brow, she reared back, and then moved to unlock the door and open it. There, standing on her front porch was the Mayor of Banshee. "Gordon… Or should I call you Mayor Hopewell?"

"Jesus, Alison, we're still friends. Just call me Gordon," he replied with a shake of his head.

Smiling then, Alison opened the door wider. Gordon took it as his cue to open the screen door and step inside. "Aren't you supposed to be at work? What are you doing here?" she questioned, shutting the door behind her. Her friend shoved his hands into the pocket of his pants. He appeared dressed for work—dark blue suit and red tie was his ensemble. Gordon didn't answer right away. He only looked around the living room, seemingly taking in the decorations. His prolonged staring at children's toys in the corner was noticeable. "Gordon," Alison said his name to get his attention. The man turned to face her.

"Oh, I don't have a scheduled meeting until later this morning," he answered. "Thought I'd drop in on you. See how you were. Tit for tat. That sorta thing."

"Right…" Alison drawled, unconvinced. She realized that Gordon had come under the pretense of small talk. However, they both knew that chatting it up wasn't necessarily a wanted pastime for her. He was here for a reason, and he was stalling. "I suppose that's fair," she continued, crossing her arms. "Since I showed up out of the blue for you." She supposed she could let him work up the courage. "But I have to warn you, I am leaving pretty soon to go to a doctor's appointment."

"Ah… For the mini you?" Gordon asked as casual as he could.

"Yes, my half-breed daughter," Alison said sarcastically, refraining from rolling her eyes. Gordon had the decency to blush. She then smiled, amused by the reaction. At least she didn't have to worry about him accidently using derogatory words. "Would you like to see her?"

"If it's alright," he replied.

Alison tilted her head, and then walked towards the kitchen. Gordon followed after her, nearly vibrating with anticipation. His secondary reaction wasn't all that unexpected. He would always be a family man way down to his bones, and enjoyed the presence of kids like they were his own. Back when he had been DA, he absolutely hated prosecuting children that had committed crimes. "We were just finishing breakfast," Alison told him as they entered the small kitchen. Her daughter had stuffed her hand in her mouth whilst she had been away. Alison sucked at her teeth, walking over to the highchair. She removed the hand from the mouth, and then used the bib to wipe the saliva away. "Say hi to Gordon, baby girl."

"Hiii!" she nearly screeched.

"Oh, she's precious!" Gordon replied, immediately melting. Alison smiled and shook her head, and then gestured for him to sit. He did so while keeping his eyes on her daughter. "You know, I remember when Deva and Max were this age. I had no idea it would be the best of times."

"You telling me there's worse things than constantly being told no?" Alison questioned with a slight chuckle.

"Just wait for puberty," Gordon said, amused. Alison shook her head and sat down in her chair. Her daughter was almost done eating the fruit pieces. "I see you're trying to spread your guilty pleasure to your daughter," he continued as he sat down in the chair to the left of her own. He had been referring to the black onesie with Iron Man's arc reactor symbol on the front. Alison shrugged, feeling no guilt at all. The symbol, itself, glowed in the dark. Plus, it had been on sale when she had found it. They were matching today. "It blows my mind that you have a kid. I never would have thought…"

"That makes two of us," Alison whispered, staring affectionately at her child. She leaned forward, planting a kiss to her forehead. She only went back to picking up her finger food. Holding back a chuckle, Alison turned her attention to the Mayor. "Now… you want to tell me the real reason you've showed up?" He was now nervously rubbing at his thighs.

"I heard about… your run in with the Sheriff," Gordon began. "In fact, he told me about it himself." Alison pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze to the plate on the table. "Are you…? Are you really considering his offer?"

"I haven't really thought about it yet." It had been a lie. Ever since Monday, she had lied awake in bed, thinking about what accepting or declining the offer could mean. "… I've been busy," she murmured.

"Had this been years ago when you were… this determined force of nature, I wouldn't have come to you," Gordon continued.

"Are you saying I'm not a determined force of nature anymore?" Alison questioned, cocking up a brow.

"You know what I mean," Gordon replied. "Things are different. You're different." He glanced at her child. "You're a mother now, and the Sheriff doesn't know that. He doesn't know what he's asking you to do."

"Don't you think I know that?" Alison frowned, nearly fixing her face to glare at him. "Jesus Christ, Gordon—you're talking to me like I'm ignorant of what this world is like."

"I'm just worried, Alison!" he said. A heavy sigh left his mouth. "As a friend, and as a parent myself, I think you should stay out of this. Don't get involved with the Sheriff. He could ruin you."

"And here I thought you, your wife, and he had an understanding?"

"On parental visits," Gordon heatedly clarified. Alison refrained from rolling her eyes. Seems they hadn't become buddies in the last two years, after all. "Look—I'm saying that whatever big scheme he plans, it always ends in blood. I don't want you to get caught up in that again. Especially since you have a kid now. Before, you rushed headlong into anything pertaining to this type of scum. With the way things are now, you shouldn't make that bold of an action. Banshee is not the same as it once was."

"You're telling me things that I already know, Gordon," Alison stated. "You are not my mentor. I can figure this out on my own." He opened his mouth, maybe to add further advice, but Alison did not let him. "Let's move on before I start to think you're being condescending. You know how much I hate that." Gordon caught the sharp tone, and wisely snapped his mouth shut. However, her daughter also picked up on the shift in her mother's voice, and began vocally fussing in response. Alison immediately moved to reassure her, running her fingers through the dark curly hair of her daughter's head. "Shh! Shh! It's alright—mommy's okay." She planted a kiss to her forehead. The added physical affection had done the trick, and her child's whining faded.

"… Have you told him yet?" Gordon asked after a moment of silence.

"The pronoun game is not a fun pastime for me either," Alison stated.

"The father, Alison—did you tell him about your kid?" Gordon clarified. "Does he know?"

"… He knows," she admitted. "Told him Monday."

"And how did it go?"

"Poorly," Alison replied, tersely.

It had just been another thing that had kept her up all night in the following days. Along with the welcome home conversation. Alison breathed in deeply before looking towards her child again. Their child. She and Kurt had created this wonderful life, and yet she had no idea if he had even wanted it. He had already proved that he had not wanted Alison, and she had come to terms about that. But this was different than a failed relationship. This was bigger than that. And yet she hadn't reached out to him again. Busy or no, she should have. At this point, Kurt didn't even know his own daughter's name, and that was partially her fault. Once again, she had found herself unable to seek him out. Fear was one of the reasons.

"So he doesn't want anything to do with her," Gordon guessed, voice snapping her out of her thoughts. Alison sighed again. "He's scum."

"Don't call him that."

"Well, he's a deadbeat," Gordon argued. "How could he not want to, at least, know her name?"

"He left before I got to that part," Alison muttered.

"He ran away," he retorted.

"Don't make me punch you."

"Jesus—are you still in love with him?!" The question startled her, and it shouldn't have. Alison swallowed thickly, glancing away. "You are."

"No!" Alison corrected quickly, returning her eyes to Gordon. He appeared quite skeptical. "No," she repeated calmer than before. So what if Kurt had been the only person that she had trusted enough? So what if she had closed herself off from anyone else who had tried? In the two years she had been gone, she had gotten over him. Only her daughter's wellbeing mattered. She took a deep breath. Even if… "I just… want him to… have a chance. He just needs time to process, that's all. Whatever he decides, I'll be okay with it." She pressed her lips together. "I'll be okay with it," she echoed. Then she shook her head and cleared her throat before pinning a pointed stare on her friend. "If all you're going to do is accuse me, I can show you the door."

"No, Alison, I'm sorry. Really. I'm just worried," Gordon said. "I-I missed you, and I feel like you're about to be placed in immediate danger, and you'll leave again… on a more permanent basis."

"Thanks," Alison replied, drily.

"You know what I mean."

"Whatever happens, I can handle it," Alison continued, choosing to ignore Gordon's words. She looked towards her daughter again. Then she reached out to rub a mushed piece of banana from the toddler's cheek. "It's more than just me now. And I'll do everything and anything I can to protect us."

0-0

It was Thursday. The last day of the work schedule. Kurt sighed to himself as he busied his hands, mindlessly straightening things on his desk. He had been putting this off for days even though he had had ample opportunities. Well, tonight would be the last opportunity. Technically, this was his Friday, and he wouldn't have another chance until next week. Not to mention, the sporadic schedule the Sheriff let the tech keep. After tonight, there would be no telling of when Kurt could approach the man known as Job.

True, he could have visited the man's salon. The place had opened fairly recently—a few months back. It was a modern, upscale establishment with low costs, which seemed too good to be true. That hadn't stopped people from flocking. It had become a hotspot for young women, men of an alternative lifestyle, and suburban mothers looking for zest. Other hair salons in the area were looking to be shut down because of the popular newest attraction to Banshee. The people of Banshee seemed fascinated by the unique, eccentric, in-your-face, and telling-it-like-it-is owner. Well, that was Alma's opinion. The woman loved the place, and would often tell of her visits.

Kurt, himself, had gone once. The Sheriff had told him to in order to bring Job in. Apparently, the two had had a disagreement that had resulted in Job not answering his phone when called. The Sheriff had tasked him with retrieving their tech. It had been an… experience, to say the least. Kurt had been uncomfortable—more uncomfortable than he had ever felt, actually. Some due to the blatant stares of disbelief that he had walked into such a place. But mostly, it had been due to the tirade he had been subjected to. Job had not taken kindly to the order of retrieving him, after all. That had been the longest conversation, if anyone could call it that, the two men had taken part of with each other. Kurt wasn't too keen on having a second one. But it needed to be done.

So with an inaudible sigh, Kurt stood up. He pushed his chair in, and then slowly moved away from his desk, towards the back of the station. Earlier, he had seen Job saunter pass, and the man had yet to emerge from the lower level. There weren't many officers here at the moment. Most of the force worked the day shift, and it was quickly coming to an end. Others were out on patrol. So Kurt's movements remained mostly unchecked. His strides were shorter than necessary, but it was still a small distant to the steps. Steeling himself, he continued down towards the tech room.

Kurt found Job at his desk, painted black nails flying across the keyboard of his laptop. He took another deep breath before walking towards him. The screen was a litany of letters and numbers that Kurt didn't begin to try to decipher. To his credit, Job didn't seem the least bit concerned about the larger man standing a few feet away. Kurt decided to keep to that distance just in case. "To what do I owe a visit from everyone's favorite Nazi, hm?" Job questioned. Maybe he had glanced briefly out of the corner of his eye, or saw the reflection on the screen. Either way, the man knew that he had company.

Clearing his throat, Kurt attempted not to outwardly show the increased nervousness within him. He clasped his fingers around his right wrist, holding both hands in front of him. He hoped he looked nonthreatening. Job finally turned to him, leaning back against the computer chair. His style for today was composed of black leather and lace, equipped with spiked silver jewelry—rings and a necklace, no earrings. Dark eyeshadow with a silvery hue and blood red lips completed the look. No wig this time. Job lifted a perfectly arched brow, waiting for a response. Honestly, the man looked as comfortable as a feline bathing in the sun. Obviously, not threatened in the least. It appeared that there wasn't a lot that could rattle this particular man.

"Maybe Sheriff Hood has already told you, but… the former DA has come back to Banshee," Kurt began. "She is the newest Assistant District Attorney now." Job hummed, unimpressed. "She… was in league with us before—before she left. I believe the Sheriff wants to bring her into the fold so that we can take down the DA, and then the Brotherhood." Job scowled, obviously not liking what he was hearing. "Her sudden reappearance, though, causes concern. She just got into town, but she was hired immediately. I want to make sure she isn't… going to be a problem. Make sure she's not already on the payroll."

Job snorted, and then he turned back in his chair, fingers tapping away at the keyboard again. Before, Kurt would have never suggested someone like Alison Medding could be bribed—could be set up as a mole. The woman he had known had been professional and moral when it came to her job. But two years was a long time. She could have easily changed her perspective, especially if she had a kid to take care of by herself. That was an unfair assumption, but they were all in the dark about this. They did not need another Nina Cruz. That woman had nearly brought the entire department down because she had been taking money from Kai Proctor, telling the man things that had made it difficult to do their jobs. Luckily, she had been fired, courtesy of Job, well before she could do too much damage.

The only reason she had lasted so long had been because of her physical similarities to a deputy they had lost. Siobhan Kelly. Until Cruz opened her mouth, anyway. The Sheriff had gone easy on her in the end, but everyone else—he, Job, and Brock—did not want a repeat. It was the reason Job was looking into Alison right now without complaint. Requests usually went hand in hand with complaints. Not this time though. This was important. Even if Kurt did not reveal the full reasoning behind the inquiry.

"No increase in income as of late," Job began in a drawl. He hummed, eyes narrowing at the screen. "Looks like she had been living on savings for a while after she left this fucking hellhole." Job continued to type, unaware—or uncaring—of the slight frown on Kurt's face. "Then there's steady deposits in her bank account from a law firm." His fingers struck the keyboard again. "In Bloomsburg."

"Bloomsburg…?" Kurt repeated. "That's only a few towns over." Yes, it was a long drive from Banshee, but he could have made that trip. Back and forth, if needed. His nails dug into his palm as he clenched his jaw. "Anything else…?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.

"She had a P.O. Box, so exactly where she lived is unknown… at the moment," Job stated. His fingers froze abruptly, hovering over the keyboard. "Huh. That's interesting."

"What's interesting?" Kurt questioned, shifting a bit to try and look at the screen. However, Job slammed his laptop shut before swiveling around in his chair. His dark eyes stared directly at Kurt, causing him to shift awkwardly in place. "What's interesting?" he repeated unsure. Job continued to stare at him, looking up and down.

"You," he finally said. "You, Sweet Nazi, come down here, asking me to look into a woman that would rather die than to work with… people who can string up people like us without thought." Job sucked at his teeth. "Mmm… Now why would you go through the trouble if there was only a passing connection? You helping out the Sheriff and the Mayor with a rescue mission that involved her, I mean." Kurt opened his mouth to repeat the concern, but Job gave a small wave, fingers moving independently of each other. "Don't bother disguising your lie anymore, Sweet Nazi. I already know about the bigger connection between you two." He tilted his head to the side, keeping his focus solely on Kurt. "Did you rape her?"

"What?! No!" Kurt protested, unable to keep his voice low. Job kept his laidback expression even though he had made such a horrendous accusation. "I would never hurt her!"

"Well… there isn't an alternative—not a believable one," Job replied, narrowing his eyes. "And you… lot have a tendency, don't you?" Kurt lowered his gaze to the floor, the strain of clenching his jaw becoming painful. "What sparked my curiosity is the fact that she's been going all over town, buying certain items, setting up with the best pediatrician, and obviously looking into daycares and babysitters. Then I found the birth certificate, listing you as the father."

"Rape victims don't usually list the father of the child," Kurt pointed out.

"I wouldn't know," Job retorted. "Explain yourself."

"… Alison and I… were together," Kurt said. "For a few months. Before that, we were friends."

"Still not hearing a believable-fucking story."

"I know it's hard to imagine. It was an impossible relationship from the start," Kurt admitted. "But it happened, and now I have a kid. I want to know my daughter... but Alison, she didn't leave behind contact information." Maybe she would have if he hadn't essentially run away after the woman had dropped that bombshell. But this was now. And now he needed. "I can't find her—find out about her—without help. I… apologize for not being up front from the start." For several moments, the two men stared at one another in silence.

"You're serious," Job finally said, though his tone didn't change. He hummed. "Fucking puppy-dog eyes," he murmured, barely audible. Kurt frowned, not sure how he should take that. "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you…!" Kurt said, honestly surprised.

"Don't thank me yet. Two years is a long time, and some fathers ain't meant to be fathers," Job said.

"… On that much, we can agree, sir."

0-0

"Fate is a strange thing."

From the front seat of a car, the whisper echoed. Words first spoken to him when he had been barely a man. He had come here, to this park, on a whim. He hadn't known the reason. Until now. Never would he have thought to see this sight. A mother and child, playing. It wasn't an uncommon sight, especially because of the playground. However, the woman was familiar to him. Unaware of his staring, the woman smiled happily, clearly matching the child's elation.

Two years. It had been two years since he had heard anything. Of course, he had tried to look for her. However, she had been a hard woman to find. His sources were inadequate. Evidently, she hadn't wanted to be found. She was a grown woman, though, who could live her own life. Truthfully, after some thought, it had been better for her to be away from Banshee. His likelihood, admittedly, would not grant him favors. And he had wanted favor with her. It was a desire nestled deep within him. For one reason only. Her resemblance to the one woman that had shaken his heart—his mindset.

Kai…

Proctor shut his eyes for a moment, curling his fingers around the steering wheel. For several moments, he lost himself in the memory of the only one who could say his name that. For so many years, he had kept his mind off that woman. But her daughter—seeing her a grown woman—had brought forth all those memories from years ago. When he had saved her at the CADI. Alison Medding. She was almost a spitting image of Arita. And now there was a new generation added to the pool. Proctor opened his eyes, fixing his stare on the woman again. At a park, pushing a toddler on a child's swing. He supposed that it had made sense. Alison had abruptly left Banshee after inflicting her rage on a few responsible for it. She had been with child. But now she had come back. Why? For the father? A man so reckless as to put their lives in jeopardy. A man so foolish enough to think he could go after the full force of the Brotherhood. To think he had spent so much effort covering all of it up.

Well, in the end, Proctor supposed that it had worked.

He had thought about getting out of his car, approaching her. That would only cause her ire, though, he was sure of it. Alison had wanted him for answers before—nothing more. After his effort to protect her, however, she had only seen him as the enemy, his acquaintance with her mother no longer important. Now, she had her own daughter to protect. If she noticed him, she would become hostile because of her daughter's presence. Perhaps she would attack him. Perhaps flee. And he had wanted neither. No. He would have to find another way to gain favor. Knowing her mother would not be enough this time.

Something would have to give, though. She had come back, and yet her intentions were unknown. Yes, he could make assumptions. However, when it came to protecting Arita's offspring, Proctor needed to know how far he would need to stretch his capabilities. As he had before. Killing those responsible for raping her. Hiding her wrath from the rest of the world. Paying her way through college. Consorting with key members of the Brotherhood she had put away. Ignoring her when she had set her sights on him. He had done it all because he had known of her intentions in some form or another. He had known the exact way to protect her. It would seem it would be a bit more different this time around.

"To put her back on my path," Proctor said. "Fate is indeed strange, Arita."

0-0

Kurt halted just before reaching his desk. He had gone to the restroom only a few minutes ago. In that time, a file had been placed on his desk. It wasn't a police file, just an ordinary manila folder. Pursing his lips, he walked forward again until he stood over his desk. Kurt opened the file to see a picture of Alison on top of the contents. He quickly shut the file before glancing around. Not seeing Job, he frowned. He had wanted to thank the man again, but maybe it could be done later. Honestly, he was anxious to get the information he had been wondering about for the better part of the week.

Swallowing, Kurt sat down in his chair. Another glance around the room indicated that no one was paying attention to him. He then focused on the file again. Taking a deep breath, he opened the file slowly. For more than a few moments, he stared down at the picture of Alison Medding. It was an older picture of her. She had longer hair. He had never seen her hair this long. Maybe it was from years before he had met her. Shaking his head, Kurt continued looking through the papers. Most of the documents were public records, but none of it showed her residence for the last two years. Only the PO Box Job had mentioned before.

Then he came across evidence of frequent doctor visits. Before, Alison hadn't been one to visit health facilities. A waste of money, she had told him. Too expensive, even if she had been able to afford it. So the sudden spike in visitation to a doctor in Bloomsburg had told him that she had been taking her pregnancy seriously. Kurt rubbed at his jaw, finally coming across the birth certificate. Apparently, Alison had given birth outside of Bloomsburg at one of the best hospitals near the town.

Right under Alison's full name was his own. She really had listed him as the father. Hearing about it had been one thing, but seeing it… was an entirely different matter. She had cared enough to. Kurt clearly his throat, blinking rapidly. Then his eyes shifted to the one piece of information that had been jabbing at his brain. He ran over the name quickly. His brow furrowed, and then read it again more slowly. It hadn't changed. Alison had named their daughter…

Kurt abruptly stood up. Then he swiftly looked through the rest of the file. He had found the information he had been looking for. An address. He swallowed hard again, and then opened his top desk drawer and shoving the file inside. Before, he had planned on waiting for his weekend to go Alison's residence. Now, he couldn't. Kurt walked away from his desk and headed towards the exit.

"Going to lunch, Kurt…?" Alma called out to him. He stopped. Though his mind had been elsewhere, his body immediately walked over to the large receptionist desk. He could not be rude to Alma. They had come so far from their first encounter. Since she had come back to work for the police department, she had been amicable towards him. No one had said anything, but Kurt had a feeling someone had told her what had happened to him two years. She had felt sympathetic towards him. No matter her reason, Kurt liked it. He didn't want to be impolite to her. "It's a bit early for you. I was going to ask if you wanted anything from Miles'. I'm picking up the orders for this shift."

"Ah, no thank you, ma'am," Kurt replied. Sometimes, she would pick up lunch for everyone working this shift. Other times, she made her own food and brought it in for everyone. Most likely, she did it for the Sheriff. It was known throughout the police force that she had a soft spot for Lucas Hood. "I'll feed myself. Thank you."

"Are you feeling okay?" Alma asked. "You've been… in a mood all week."

"I… I know," Kurt admitted. "I-I've had a lot of things on my mind. A lot of stuff hit me all at once. But I'm handling it. I'm okay." He lowered his head in a nod of acknowledgement. "Thank you." The older woman gave him a small smile. "I'll be back in about an hour."

"Stay safe out there," she told him.

Kurt smiled a bit and nodded his head again before, once again, heading towards the doors. It was really was nice to be on the receiving end of caring person. Still, once he left the station, the smile fell from his face and a tight frown replaced it. The momentary distraction gone, he couldn't help but return to the sole reason he had wanted to hastily leave work instead of waiting on his weekend. He couldn't wait anymore. So getting into his own vehicle, Kurt had only one thought on his mind. His destination. He had recognized the address. Well, the neighborhood where the address had been located.

He had been called out there before. It was a quiet neighborhood, whose residents had a tendency to be spooked by a stray animal rather than an actual criminal trying to break in. It was one of Banshee's safest neighborhoods, which was good. Alison had chosen well. Though he doubted a person with her taste would remain in such a neighborhood. It was a few steps down from where she had lived before.

It wasn't long before the truck came to a stop. Kurt removed his key from the ignition, eyes on the light blue house where Alison Medding had only just begun renting. A two-story house with a driveway that curled around the back. He didn't see a car from where he had parked, which was right at the curb. Maybe she wasn't home. But he was here now, so Kurt pushed open the door and got out of his truck. His movements were slow going up the steps leading to the house. To his chagrin, he heard his heartbeat quicken in his ears and a flush settling in his cheeks and chest. The closer he got to the door, the more his nerves threatened to overwhelm him.

Christ. Kurt had not been thinking clearly since he had seen his daughter's name. Just a name had spurred him into action. Only it hadn't been just any name. So, of course, he had found himself here, maybe wanting an explanation. Maybe this time he would get some answers. Stiffly, Kurt reached for the doorbell. The pad of his index finger pressed hard against the button. While he waited, he looked around. It was the middle of the day, but too early for kids to be out of school, which meant parents were still at work or inside their homes. Kurt looked back towards the door. Maybe had gotten the timing wrong. For all he knew, Alison was working right now, having trusted a stranger at a daycare to look after his daughter. Maybe this trip had been just an impulsive waste of time.

Just about Kurt had been about to turn away, he heard the click of the door unlocking. He went rigid as the knob was turned and the door slowly opened. On the other side of the screen door, Alison stood, not exactly looking surprised to see him on her porch. "Kurt," she greeted him by name only. As far as he could see, she only wore leggings and a t-shirt that showed her love of Marvel hadn't ceased. Seeing her in daylight, out of professional attire, was an almost painful reminder that he had been one of the select few that had been close enough to see her so casual. Kurt mentally shook the memories from his mind.

"Alison," he returned. Almost, he had used her title. ADA Medding. It would have been formal, and a way to keep the distant between them. In the end, he hadn't. Despite what had happened, her name still felt natural to say as if he hadn't spent over a year trying to keep it from his mouth—from his thoughts. "I apologize for showing up without warning."

"How did you find me?"

"Job was working today," Kurt replied. "Asked him if he could…"

"Right. Job." Alison rolled her eyes. Then she sighed lightly. Her arm lifted to open the screen door. Kurt stepped back, expecting her to step onto the porch, but she only held the door open. "Come in," she beckoned. Kurt clenched his teeth, and then took the offered invitation. Alison moved backwards and allowed him into her home. Unconcerned, she turned her back on him as he shut the door behind him. The level of trust she showed startled him, but he made no comment. "Have a seat," Alison told him.

Kurt did so, taking a look around the room as he did. The couch he sat on was against the wall beside the front door. Alison chose to sit on the love seat adjacent to the couch. There was an entertainment center against the other wall. Shelves of movies and decorations surrounded the large television in the middle. In next room, there were stairs leading up to the second floor, a desk with a laptop on it pushed against the wall of the staircase, a bookcase, and in a corner opposite of the stairs was a pile of toys meant for a toddler. Kurt tried to ignore the way his heart lurched. He cleared his throat. The desire to see his daughter had increased tenfold in just a few short seconds.

"I'm… I'm surprised you're not working," Kurt remarked.

"I don't start until next week," Alison stated, clasping her hands over her lap. "Which gives me time to finish settling things. Just now, I was changing my address for everything." She pressed her lips together and looked away for a moment, maybe realizing she had been about to start rambling. "So… Since Job helped you, I'm assuming you're pretty much caught up on the basics of your daughter. She's healthy and happy. She's developing at an appropriate rate, maybe a bit quicker than most. She's walking and talking. She's-"

"Her name," Kurt interrupted. Not that he wasn't interested in the skills his daughter had gotten without him, but the more pressing thought on his mind was her name. "Why?" Alison turned her eyes away again, appearing hesitant.

"… When I named her, I thought…" Her entire body tensed. She visibly appeared uncomfortable now. "It's a nice name," she finally whispered. "I've always thought so." Alison unexpectedly stood up from the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. "Have you made a decision?" she questioned sharply. "Because, even though you've shown up like this, I am not going to let you meet her until you have. And you better make damn sure it's a resolute one, Bunker. No backing out months later because of some shortcomings. No coming around years later full of regret. You make the decision and you stick to it. There are too many children in this world with horrible fathers, and I will not allow my child to be one of them. You stay… or you stay away. There is no in between."

Alison hadn't changed much. Still demanding and unrelenting. Quick and to the point. Her reaction to prodding her innermost thoughts, which she hadn't offered to give, had been the same as well. Diverting. Kurt supposed that, at the moment, the reason for the name didn't matter. For now, she could keep her secret. He hadn't come this far for her. Standing up, he held his wrist in front him and stared back at the mother of his child. He had come to a decision long before today. "I want to be a part of her life," Kurt stated. "I want to… help raise her. I want to be a better dad than mine ever was."

Alison tilted her head, eyes regarding him with contemplation. Then the breathed out slowly, uncrossing her arms. "Setting the bar a little low, aren't you?" she asked. However, there was slight mirth in her tone. Kurt tried not to become affected by her shift. It reminded him that underneath it all, she was playful. "Wait here. She's probably finishing her snack." Alison left him then, going towards the kitchen. When she disappeared around the corner, Kurt breathed out through his nose. Without warning, it felt as though his buttoned shirt was choking him. He was about to meet his daughter. See her for the first time. Would she even like him? Kurt reached up unfastening the top button of his shirt. He breathed a little easier, but not by much.

Then he heard it. The slight babbling of a small child as well as Alison's footsteps. Kurt had made his decision. He would be committed in raising his daughter. There was no doubt—no in between, as Alison had mentioned. That, however, did not stop the nervousness. His nerves stretched and rattled the closer the footsteps got. Again, he could hear his heart pumping. Then, of course, Alison reappeared. She carried their daughter on her hip, arm wrapping securely around the small body as her other hand wiped whatever remnant of food still left on the chubby cheeks. It seemed like his heart had all but given out at the sight.

As they drew closer at a leisure pace, his daughter's eyes stared at him in curiosity. His presence was noticeable, even to a child. It was her eyes that he had noticed first. Just as Alison told him, their eye color was a match. They were bright and hazel. She had a full head of hair—dark brown curls, pushed back by a thick white hairband. Next to her mother, her skin tone was notably lighter by a few shades. A warm golden brown complexion compared to her mother's soft dark brown skin. Then he noticed the subtle similarities. Alison's nose. His chin. The shape of her lips was near identical to Alison's. Obviously, the little girl had quite a lot of development to go through, but Kurt could see she had the shape of his head. She was the perfect blend of their physical characteristics. Absolutely beautiful.

Alison came to a stop, but her eyes were still on the little girl. "Guess who paid us a visit, baby girl," she cooed. The higher pitch of her voice startled Kurt back into reality. It had felt as though time had slowed down so that he could take in everything. And now he had been snapped back. Alison had never used such a voice before. Not even when dessert had been involved. Unmindful of his observation, Alison continued speaking to her child in the same sugary sweet voice. "Can you say hi? Can you say hi to the nice police officer?"

"… Hiiii!" the little girl enthusiastically greeted with an awkward wave of her tiny hand. She then wiggled against her mother's form, and then jerked her arm, jabbing an index finger excitedly. "Bunka!" she shouted in glee. "Dah!"

Alison gasped dramatically while Kurt had trouble keeping up with the rhythm of his heart. "That's right! It's Daddy Bunker! Good job! You're so smart!" she praised. Her lips pressed repeatedly against the girl's forehead. Giggles exploded from the girl's mouth. Neither one seemed to grasp the affect the entire exchange had on Kurt. He barely remembered how to form proper words.

"H-How?" Kurt rasped, gaze flickering back and forth between mother and child. Alison turned her attention back to him. "Sh-She knows me? How?" She licked her lips, shifting her line of sight to the far wall. She visible swallowed before clearing her throat.

"When she started recognizing things, people, I started showing her pictures of you," Alison explained, voice returning to normal. Her eyes also returned to his form. "I told her who you are, what you do, and your relationship to her. Most of the time, I referred to you as Bunker. Other times, it was daddy." Kurt stared at her in disbelief. He would have never thought she would do something like that, especially since she hadn't needed to. Then again, she had listed him on the birth certificate. Maybe it wasn't that farfetched. "Like I said before, she wasn't supposed a secret from you." She adjusted the girl on her hip. "From the start, I've wanted you to meet your daughter. For her to meet you."

Kurt didn't know what to say. He had been expecting a lot of things by choosing this, but unwavering support from her in regards to the role of father hadn't been one of them. In all honesty, he had expected Alison to be distant and cold towards him, only reluctantly allowing him in his daughter's life. Not whole-heartedly driving him into it. "What if…?" Kurt began. He looked at the little girl, who stared back at him. "What if I had chosen differently? Chosen not to?" Right now, he couldn't picture choosing anything other than this. But if Alison had made the effort of making their daughter recognize him, only for there to be a chance of him staying away…

"We would have stayed for a year," Alison told him bluntly. "If you hadn't come around by then, then we would have left and not come back. I would have stopped mentioning you altogether until she turned twenty-one. Then it would be her decision to seek you out or not." So everything had been planned. Well, Alison had always been a planner. "And before you ask, no, I wouldn't have badmouthed you when the time came for me to tell her. Despite our differences, or a decision not to be a part of her life, I still think you're a good man. And I would have told her that."

"And my tattoos?" Kurt questioned.

"Yes, I would have told her about them, too," Alison confirmed. "But that's all hypothetical now. You're all in, right?" Kurt nodded his head. She sighed lightly. "Good," she said, lowering her child to the floor. "We can file for joint custody at a later time, but for now, I have some papers for you to sign for medical reasons." She headed into the next room, going towards the desk. "Also, I've enrolled her in daycare already, so I'm going to need your name for that just in case I can't pick her up for whatever reason. You still have days off in the week, right?"

"Y-Yeah," Kurt answered, watching as Alison rummaged through the desk drawers. Then his eyes turned to his daughter. She was still staring at him. Once she caught his gaze, she began moving in his direction. Her tottle was equipped with outstretched arms. Kurt found himself lowering, one knee pressed against the floor while the other bended. "Hi," he finally greeted his daughter. It had been slow and unsure, but at least he hadn't stuttered this time. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Naomi Jade Medding."

It hadn't been so tough to say his daughter's name. She shared the same first name as someone he had thought of as a sister. A name he hadn't said or thought about in quite some time. Naomi. Alison had brought a part of his alternative family back into the world. Kurt would be forever grateful for that. He glanced at the woman, who was still looking through a drawer, and smiled. The first real smile that he had had since she had walked back into his life… with the gift that was their daughter. She didn't see because when she focused, she really focused. Then he looked back at his daughter. "Dah!" she said again, obviously elated. She leaned forward, holding up her hand.

A short laugh burst free. "Yes, that's right. Good girl," Kurt congratulated her. He lifted his own hand, and marveled at the fact that his daughter—Naomi—pressed her palm against his. A tiny overwhelmed breath escaped him. It felt as though his heart broke and mended simultaneously. Kurt knew that in this moment, he would anything for her. He would spoil her rotten. Protect her at any cost. Die, if need be. His beautiful little girl deserved to make her mark on the world. And he would make sure she would have that chance. A chance that her namesake hadn't.

"Kurt…" Alison's voice made him look up. The image of her was blurred, and only then did he realize tears had gathered in his eyes. He blinked and rubbed at his left eye. Then he stood to his full height. He felt the tears slide, and tried his best to wipe them away. "Baby, go play," Alison instructed. Naomi nodded her head and nearly dashed into the next room. Alison smiled, watching as the little girl went by. Then she turned her attention back to him. "Kurt," she repeated, stepping forward. Her hand lightly grabbed his, pulling it away from his face. "I know how much parenthood can seem, so if you need a few more days to let it really sink in, I understand."

"No," Kurt told her. "I've had days. I'm here. I need to be in her life."

"Good," Alison said, approving. "When's your next day off? We can set up some time for a longer visit? Come back here tomorrow, or we can come to you?"

"Either way is fine," he stated.

"Okay, let me have your number, and I'll text or call you later," Alison said.

"It hasn't changed," Kurt stated. "I never changed it."

"Oh," Alison replied. Then, as if she had only just realized that their hands were still touching, she stepped backwards, tugging her hand free. "Oh," she repeated, looking elsewhere.

For a moment, they stood opposite each other. There were tons of thoughts going through Kurt's mind. But he would never say them. Right now, their relationship was new—fragile—and pertained only to their daughter. He didn't want to mess it up with biting, bitter words. He had never changed his number, not like she had—he could have snapped. In the back of his mind, he had thought maybe she would reach out to him. She never had, and he still felt resentment. Alison could have told him about her pregnancy. Even if she hadn't wanted him anymore, she could have...

"So…" Kurt cleared his throat, pushing down that resentment and making a way to break the steadily growing uncomfortable silence. "She's walking and talking—anything else about her physical development I show know?" Seemingly grateful for the change in topics, Alison visibly sighed. Once again, she gestured for him to have a seat. Keeping the sigh to himself, Kurt did so. Alison went over to the entertainment center, arm stretching up to the highest shelf. She pulled down her cell phone. It was a different case than the former blue one. This particular case was black and had The Punisher symbol on the back. Her Marvel memorabilia had spread from t-shirts in the last two years. The fact almost made Kurt smile, but he quickly smothered it.

Eyes on the screen of her smart phone, Alison walked to the couch. She sat down beside him, and he tensed in response. Christ. It was like he had regressed to a time where he had thought he hadn't deserved to touch her. Paying his reaction to her proximity no mind, Alison scooted closer until their legs nearly touched. She showed him her phone, thumb swiping through so many images, most of them being of their daughter. "I wanted to record everything," Alison explained, finally finished swiping. "I practically did. There's more on my computer, but I kept the most important stuff on my phone." She handed him her phone without batting an eye. "Here's us days before she was born."

The picture was of Alison, hand on her protruding belly. She explained that the picture had been taken days before she had given birth. The next picture showed her in the hospital, a newborn Naomi resting on her chest. Kurt pressed his lips together, swiping to the next. There were tons of pictures of Naomi and Alison together. Affectionate and smiling. As he continued to swipe, he saw the growing of his child. It almost felt like he had been there. Almost.

"She likes when I braid her hair," Alison mentioned, softly when he came across a picture of a sleeping Naomi. Her curls had been braided. "Found out that's the quickest way to calm her down when she gets too cranky. She likes the massage part of it, I think. One or two braids, and then it's over… Um, I have video of her when she first started walking on the computer. I could show you that?"

"Maybe next time," Kurt said. Then he cleared his throat, passing the cell phone back to her. "I-I have to get back to work." He stood up, and Alison followed suit. "There's… These aren't online, are they?"

"No, you know I don't have a social media presence," she replied. Kurt refrained from saying that he wouldn't know something like that—to remind her that it had been two years. "It's all private. I hadn't planned on showing anyone but you." Despite the resentment, he felt himself relaxing.

"Why'd you come back now?" Kurt asked. It had been a question he had asked before. She hadn't given him a straight answer. The answer that she had given had been so distracting. But he now realized that she could have come back at any time. She could have waited until Naomi was older—wasn't so ignorant of what his tattoos meant. She could have waited until Naomi hated everyone and everything pertaining to the symbols that tainted his skin—no matter the reason. Alison could have been spiteful to him, and yet she was openly and blatantly welcoming him into their daughter's life—had saved pictures just for him. Why did she care?

"So you can know her—have a chance to raise her," Alison answered.

"But why now?"

"… She asked for you," she admitted. "One night last month, I read her a bedtime story, and afterwards, I told her 'mommy loves you' like always. She asked for you… And I felt guilty that I couldn't answer her. I had already fallen in love with her, but you… didn't have that chance. And I felt the guilt. I came back because you deserve to be a father. I want you to be her father." Answers. Finally. But it still gave him mixed signals. And maybe it was because he still had Billy in his head, but Kurt wanted to both push her away and pull her close. Christ. "So…" Alison tilted her head down, eyes on the floor. "Tomorrow then…?"

"Yeah," Kurt said. "Tomorrow."

She looked back up, slight smile on her face. Kurt held back his own because she shouldn't be able to still do that to him. "Baby girl, come say goodbye to Daddy Bunker!" Alison called into the next room. Within seconds, the toddler came back into the room. Even with her unsteady legs, she moved towards her mother quickly and curled her tiny fingers around the fabric of the leggings. "You want to say bye to Daddy Bunker?" The girl looked up with her big beautiful eyes, and then raised a finger at him.

"No!" Naomi protested.

"We'll see him tomorrow," Alison said. Then she shifted her gaze to Kurt. "Don't worry about that—it's her favorite word right now." Maybe she had seen the flash of distress on his face. "Say bye, Naomi."

"Bah…" the girl spoke softly for the first time. Then she left her mother's side and reached for him. "Mm!" Kurt furrowed his brow in confusion, watching the toddler not quite jump—just bending and extending her legs. "Mm!"

"I think she wants a goodbye hug from her daddy. She knows who you are, after all," Alison said. "Did I mention, she's really into showing affection?" She hadn't, and Kurt thought his heart might burst through his chest. He lowered himself again and stared directly into his daughter's eyes.

"M-May I have a hug, Naomi?" he asked her.

"Dah! Dah! Bunka!"

She practically threw herself at him. Kurt choked out a gasp, just a bit winded by the weight slamming into him. Still, he carefully wrapped his arms around her. His insides and outsides trembled as he held his daughter. Before he knew it, he felt the tears sliding down. Again. This could not be his reaction every time. Something so simple was affecting him so much. Well, it wasn't that simple, after all. He was a bit bigger and she was a bit smaller, but it almost felt as though he was hugging his little sister again.

Suddenly, Kurt felt a hand on his shoulder. He blinked a few times before focusing on Alison. She was looking down at him with pursed lips and wet eyes. Kurt sniffed harshly, and then wiped at his face with the palm of his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut again, and when he finally composed himself, he released his daughter. Alison slipped her hand from his shoulder as he stood up straight. She dropped down, scooping up their daughter and holding her close.

"So we'll see you tomorrow," she stated. Her lips nudged at the side of Naomi's head. "Over your place…? So she can get used to it."

"Yeah, that's okay," Kurt said, already thinking of ways to clean up his home for the visit. He slid his palm down his face, grateful that Alison hadn't commented on the tears. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head. "I'm free all day, so just send me a time and I'll send you the address. And you can bring those papers with you." She nodded her head in agreement. "Goodbye, Alison."

"Goodbye, Kurt."

"Bah!" Naomi exclaimed not wanting to be left out.

For the first time in two years, Kurt and Alison shared a smile.

0-0

So I have not been around a child Naomi's age in a very long time. It's probably been a decade, so if her mannerisms aren't exactly right... my creativity doesn't stretch that far. What I have is being pulled from memory. Speaking of that, any references to season 4 of Banshee is also being pulled from memory. I have not gotten pass episode one as of yet. But gradually, I will start watching it again. The plot, concerning the Brotherhood, isn't going to be significant for a bit because of the path I want this story to take first. A bit like part one of Sins of Another, really. So strap yourselves in, reread if you need to, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

I wasn't always going to name the kid Naomi, but I think it works. How about you?