First chap = disclaimers

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Steve Sloan muttered a curse as his car sputtered and died. It figured. It just plain figured. He was half a mile from his father's house, and Angel's stupid sports car dies. It just had to be raining too. Now he remembered why he loved that truck so much.

He had two options, he could call for help or he could just walk the rest of the way to his old home. A flash of lightening illuminated the rolling water of the ocean as Steve contemplated his choices.

He'd acted fairly dense in the whole situation so far. Why not complete the cycle? Pulling his jacket snug around his body, Steve lunged out of the car, locked it, and proceeded to jog the rest of the distance.

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Mark sighed as he turned in his bed for the hundredth time. It was so hard being shut out of Steve's life. When Carol had left Steve had stayed. They had become inseparable emotionally. Now, Steve hated him.

Doubts about so many things had started to crowd Mark's mind. Maybe he should have known that Steve was alive. Maybe Steve never would talk to him again. Maybe he was just an old fool to even hope for happiness.

Mark grumbled as the pounding rain became louder against his window. It was a night like this that had taken Steve from him. It was not helping to make him feel any better.

Meanwhile, Steve stood down at the front door completely drenched. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd pounded on the door. Apparently, his father was not just asleep, he had also gone deaf.

Steve glanced around. None of the neighbors would be up at this time in the morning. He had left his cell phone in the car, and he was not about to sprint back to retrieve it. A stone near his feet caught his attention.

"Ah, Dad. You really know better." Steve stooped and picked up the "stone." A couple of twists later, a key and a security number fell out. "We're going to have a serious discussion about this." He said as he opened the front door.

Mark's eyes snapped open at the sound of the door banging shut. He knew the doors were locked, so the wind had not done it. Jesse or Amanda would have called up to him by now. That meant one thing. There was an intruder in the house.

Mark was not exactly the brawn in a struggle, but it was a good guess that whoever it was had already cut the phone lines. That person was also likely to be able to chase and subdue an elderly doctor. That left one option.

Mark gingerly gripped the four iron that was propped up in his clothes closet. Silently he crept down the stairs. The intruder was moving. It sounded like he was going from the bathroom to the kitchen. Mark would give him credit. He was very quiet.

Mark could see that the kitchen light was on. Apparently, the intruder preferred the risk of light to the risk of noise. Mark slid against the wall next to the doorway to the kitchen.

He could here the figure moving within, and he could smell coffee?

Wonderful, he could always attract the strange ones. He tensed. The intruder was moving closer to him. Mark took a deep breath and whirled into the kitchen bringing his golf club down upon a set of wet, broad shoulders.

"Owww! Couldn't you have just made me grovel?"

"Steve?" Mark asked in disbelief as the club dropped from his hands.

"Yeah, well who else would be skulking around your home at one thirty in the morning?"

"You're here." The astonishment showed in his face.

"I know that Dad."

"You're really here."

"I think we established that when you connected that club with my back."

"You're wet." Mark's shock filled brain registered as he spoke.

"Are you okay, Dad? I mean, maybe you should sit down and rest."

"Steve!" Mark's eyes filled with tears as he wrapped his son in a bear hug.

Steve's own eyes got misty as he returned the favor. "I missed you, Dad. I don't know how, but I did."

"You're back. You truly are back." Mark smiled as he pushed Steve away. "And you're soaking. We need to get you out of those clothes before you catch something."

"You know, that's what Angel says when she… Um, never mind. I'm fine."

"No, you are most certainly not. A few towels aren't going to help. You need to be in dry clothes."

"Dad, I am not going to putter around in your bath robe, and your other clothes won't fit."

Mark motioned him to follow. "You know Steve, your vocabulary has changed. Skulking? Putter? Those aren't your normal fare."

"Blame it on all those fancy meetings I get to be ornamental at."

They began to head down the steps to Steve's old apartment.

"Don't like doctor's conferences?" Mark asked.

"No, I don't like fashion parties. You get all trussed up in the latest monkey suit and listen to people gossip about how fat the latest anorexic model is."

Mark's brow furrowed. "Fashion parties?"

Steve chuckled. "I assume that you don't know who Angel's father is."

 "I think there are a lot of things I'm going to have to learn. However, if you can still stand the bland designs, your old clothes are over there." Mark said as he flipped the light switch on.

Steve turned around in wonder. "Um, Dad. You realize that this is a touch creepy. Everything is in the same place as it was six years ago."

"Oh, not everything, but most of it is. I couldn't bear to part with what I had left of you."

"I'm so sorry. I've been a real jerk haven't I?"

"Steve, someday you will understand how I feel about you. Why do you think I forgave Carol so easily? You were both my children. Nothing could change that."

Steve laughed. "I'd hate to break it to you, but I already know how you feel. I've got two kids remember?"

Mark's face lit up. "That's right. All the more reason for you to change. You don't need to be passing a cold onto your children. Now hurry up. I'll go make us a snack."

Steve shrugged and pulled out an old pair of blue jeans and a shirt. He breathed a sigh of relief when they still fit. Hanging around those fashion gurus had paid of after all.

He headed up the stairs to the smell of cookies baking.

He wandered barefoot into the kitchen. "That was pretty fast to whip up cookie batter."

"I made it earlier when I couldn't sleep. Then I decided I was too distracted to bake, so I put it in the fridge."

Steve nodded as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked at his father. "So, where do you want me to start?"

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Angel groaned as she rubbed her temples. Getting paged at four am had not been a blessing. She had practically run out of the house, jumped in her car and driven half way to Community General before she had had a lucid thought. At least she had remembered not to grab the sports car. That one really needed to go in for a tune up.

She sat in the doctor's lounge across from Jesse. He had been on duty when the ER gotten a two car collision. One of the victims was a five-year old girl. Angel had been called to operate.

Now, both she and Jesse were exhausted. Amanda was making small talk, but none of them were exactly chipper.

Mark smiled as he entered the lounge. He'd driven Steve to his house at six that morning. Then driven back to the beach house to freshen up and go to work. He had not slept a wink, but felt better than he had in ages. Steve had promised to bring the kids by as soon as they were awake.

He hummed a jaunty tune as he reached for the sludge machine, as Jesse had dubbed the coffee pot.

He turned around. "You two don't look so good." He remarked looking at Jesse and Angel.

"We just spent six hours in the ER. There was a car crash." Jesse replied.

Mark winced as he realized that his grandchildren had been left alone. Hopefully, they had not woken up for the time their mother left to the time their father had gotten home.

Steve, on the other hand, had already gotten over the shock of his children being alone. He was in a totally different dilemma. He was attempting to force himself out of his rental car and into the front doors of Community General.

Marcus and Laura were staring innocently at their father as he tried to summon courage.

"Aren't we gonna go in?" Marcus asked from the back seat.

Steve nodded and pushed himself out of the driver's seat to open the back doors so the kids could get out. Grasping each child's hand with one of his own, he marched through the doors.