AN: Here's Chapter Two for all those encouraged me to continue with this series. This one is from Harm Sr.'s POV. For this story, let's pretend Harm didn't get arrested for the murder of Singer. Special thanks to Browneyeez for all the help and suggestions.

Facing Him

I see my son standing before me, a distinguished Naval Commander, gold wings shining and JAG insignia adorning his sleeve. I wonder why he came today. I don't think anything significant happened in his life lately. He's been coming here more the last couple of years, to tell me both the good and the bad. The day he came to tell me about the first time he tood his brother up in Sarah was when I knew he had finally accepted the past. It was the first time I saw him truly happy when discussing any of the events or people in his search for the truth.

Today it doesn't seem to be any of these situations though. As he reaches out an touches my name like he's done so many times, I sense the memories going through his mind. His eyes give him away. Ever since my son was six, he's tried to keep his emotions guarded from those close to him. He's done a pretty good job building a wall around himself, but his eyes are the window that allows a person to see what's inside. Few people know this, and ever fewer have made any progress in tearing down the wall. There is that partner of his... It seems this war has created more than one wall.

Now my son has turned towards a woman and her young son. Does he see the past in this simple scene before him? Or does he see the future? My son never had a father. Well, he never allowed himself to have one. I'm sure this seemingly fatherless child in front of him is unsettling for him. I can see the sadness and anger. I see the tears threatening to fall. If I know my son, and I'd like to think I do, he won't ever let himself cry in front of me. He can't bring himself to show that kind of vulnarability. You're not a superhero, son, no matter what everyone else may think. It's ok to be human and cry. I know I have. I've cried knowing that I've made the people I was once close to cry. I cry knowing I've caused them pain.

He's leaving now. Today's visit was not long and nothing major happened, but I'm happy knowing my son is content. He whispers goodbye to me. "See you soon," he says. God I hope not.