Eric belongs to Disney/Saban. I am using him without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Gaby and all other characters that appear in the story are mine.

Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; strong sexual content; mature concepts.

Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.

A/N: This story and 'Unreal Life' take place at the same time, and I am posting them at the same time. They are separate but related stories, and can be read together or separately.

This takes place after the events of 'Sins of the Fathers'. You don't have to have read that story, but it might help.

My thanks to Rach, for spotting a potential problem with the first name I used for Eric's fictitious home town, and helpful suggestions for a solution.

Connections


Prologue

He had been here before. But somehow it didn't feel the same this time. As he waited, he glanced around the dismal room; tiled floor, white plaster walls, a table, four uncomfortable chairs, a barred window. And nothing more. Visitors usually saw prisoners in the main visiting room, through a sheet of hardened plastic, speaking on phones, but he had called in a few favors and taken advantage of his somewhat privileged position to use this room instead.

Again he wondered exactly what he was doing here, why he had chosen to come now, why he wanted to do this at all. It wasn't as if he didn't have enough problems already, especially now. But even if it was asking for more complications in an already complicated life, this was something he knew he had to do.

The door opened. A guard motioned a man in. He was middle-aged with a tired face, a man who looked as if life had worn him out, the prison uniform hanging limply on him. After a few steps into the room, he stopped and they stared at each other as the guard closed the door on them.

"Hi, Dad."

"Eric. I was surprised when they said you wanted to see me."

"Yeah, I guess so." He moved back a step. "Sit down." They both sat and regarded each other uneasily across the table. "So -- how have you been?"

Myers shrugged. "Okay. Jail is jail, no matter where. I've done time before, I know the ropes."

"They treating you okay?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "Better than usual... Maybe because they know my son is commander of the Silver Guardians..." Eric's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Myers went on, "I know, I shouldn't say that. I'm not really your father."

"Yeah." Eric stared at the wall.

"So -- why are you here?" His voice took on a hint of sarcasm. "I assume you didn't come just to say hello."

"No." Eric stood up, feeling the need to express his tension with movement. He went to the window and looked out. "Look, I saved your life, despite the fact that you treated me and Mom like shit all those years. I even did what I could to get you a light sentence. I figure you owe me something."

"What do you want?"

"Ever since you and Mom showed up, I've been thinking." He took a few steps back to his chair and sat, leaning forward on the table. "For years, I tried to forget my past. Didn't want anything to do with it, didn't want to find any of my other relatives. But now, I'm starting to feel different. I didn't really know Mom at all... and now it's too late." He watched his own fingers curling nervously. "I want to know more about my family. Mom's gone, so you're the only one I can ask."

"Want to find your roots, huh?"

"Maybe it sounds stupid to you..."

"No, I didn't say that."

"And don't think I'm going to get your time reduced, or get you special favors..."

"Did I ask for anything?" Myers' face lit with a spark of anger.

Eric stared at him for a moment, again with the painful suspicion that he was more like this man than he ever wanted to be, despite their lack of blood relationship. "Will you do it?" he asked bluntly. "Just answer some questions?"

Instead of the calculating look he had expected, he saw a smile on Myers' face. "I guess you're right. I owe you something. What do you want to know?"

"Okay..." Eric sat back, trying to relax and collect his thoughts. He had come with a list -- should have written it down, he realized. "Okay. Grandma -- Mom's mother -- died years ago. What about my grandfather? Mom's father?"

"He was a bum. Like me." Myers smiled again, ruefully. "There were rumors he beat up on Pammy -- your mother -- when she was a kid. When Pammy got pregnant he took off and disappeared."

"Sounds a lot like you." Eric couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice.

"I heard he died in jail, soon after your grandmother died."

Eric tried and failed to feel anything. "What about your parents?"

"My parents? They're alive. Of course, they're not your blood relations."

"I don't remember ever meeting them."

"No. As soon as you were born, everyone could see you weren't mine. They didn't want anything to do with you. Thought I was a fool to stay with Pammy."

"Nice people." Eric scowled. "Neither of you had any brothers or sisters?"

"Nope."

"Do I have any cousins? Anything?"

"I don't know your mother's family very well. I don't think they were very close, anyway." Myers had a small and quiet smile on his face. Undoubtedly waiting for the inevitable, obvious question, the one Eric had really come to ask.

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "Do you know who my real father was? My biological father?"

The smile deepened. "Sorry. No idea, except he must have been a... Chinese."

"Shit." Eric was on his feet again. "You don't even know that, do you? I could be half Japanese, or Korean, or a few other things... Can't tell for sure by looking at me."

Myers shrugged, his face becoming more serious. "Your mother wasn't exactly... picky. Could have been a lot of guys."

"But there weren't that many Asian men in Canela Beach. Not then. You must have thought about it. Must have suspected someone."

"Okay." Myers sighed. "There was Walter Lee. He was a math teacher at the high school."

"A high school teacher?"

"Your mother was only seventeen when she got pregnant, a junior in high school. Mr. Lee seemed to take an interest in her. Tried to get her to study harder, thought she should go to college."

"And because of that you think..."

"Get real, Eric. Men aren't interested in pretty young girls for their minds."

"Maybe you aren't."

"Fine. But he was Chinese, and he knew your mother. His son used to hang out with her, too, but he was just a kid. She liked them older." He paused. "There was also a guy who owned the local Chinese restaurant. Don't remember his name. And there was a guy who worked in the library. I think he was Japanese. Saw him talking to your mother a few times."

"I suppose you don't remember his name, either."

"Nope."

"You never checked it out? Never asked around?"

"Why should I? What difference did it make who it was?"

Eric moved back to stand over him. "Didn't you ever ask my mother?"

"I -- Like I said, what difference did it make?"

"You did ask her, didn't you? What did she say?"

"She wouldn't tell me." Myers didn't look up at him, shifting slightly in his chair.

"You're lying."

"Look, Eric, maybe this is a bad idea. It doesn't matter who it was."

Eric leaned over him and waited for him to look up. "Tell me what she said."

"She didn't remember. Said she was drunk, she didn't remember where she was or who she was with."

"Was that all?"

"It's enough, isn't it?" He hesitated. "She said there were a lot of guys. Some of them were from out of town. She didn't even remember what half of them looked like..."

"Do you think she was telling the truth?"

"Look, I don't know. Maybe she knew and didn't want to tell me, didn't want to get the guy in trouble. She could be loyal like that. Maybe she really didn't remember. I didn't want to have to tell you your mother might not even know who it was. But she was a -- she was like that, especially when she was a kid."

"Did you think it was a surprise?" Eric paused. "Why did you marry her? And stay as long as you did?"

"I..." Myers squirmed again and mumbled his answer with head turned down. "I loved her. Believe it or not. She was so beautiful... and so much fun. Even after I found out you weren't mine... I guess I thought I could change her. But nothing could. And... well, you know how things ended up."

Eric straightened and turned away, waiting a few moments before speaking again. "Well, thanks," he said. "I guess."

"Sorry I couldn't help."

"I'll find out... someday." Eric sighed before turning around again. "I guess I should go. Got work to do."

"What are you going to do if you find him?"

Eric shrugged. "Don't know."

"Say hello? Ask for child support? Punch him in the nose?"

"I just want to look him in the face." Eric felt his jaw clench. "Want to see what kind of man he is. Know where I came from."

"Well -- I don't get it. But good luck."

"Thanks." Eric walked to the door and knocked sharply. A moment later it opened, and the same guard stood aside, waiting for Myers to come out.

They faced each other in the doorway, exchanging a long and uneasy look. Eric tried to understand what he was feeling, confused by the mixture of anger, hostility, nostalgia, and an undefined ache, at the moment just wanting it to be over. Myers smiled tentatively and held out his hand. Eric hesitated, then finally put his own hand out.

"I wish things had been different between us," Myers said softly. "Wish I'd done a lot of things differently." He met Eric's eyes. "Wish you really were my son. Then I could say I'm proud of you, and you wouldn't get mad."

"There was a time I would have given anything to hear you say something like that," Eric said, surprising himself. He stepped back. "But it's too late now. Nine years of you calling me names and slapping me around. We both have to live with what you did."

With another glance, Myers walked out. Eric stood still. In a few minutes, another guard would come to escort him out. Then he would go back to work, back to the real world, back to the life he had built for himself. Friends, a good job, a girlfriend, a home. But no family. What did he want? What would he gain by finding his father? He had to admit he wasn't entirely sure. Would it even be possible to track him down, after thirty years? Maybe not. But he knew he was going to give it a damn good try.


TBC...