The knocking on the apartment door was loud and obnoxious as Al moaned slightly. "Alright," he said. "Alright I'm coming." He rolled off the sofa. His neck was cramped, but the idea of sleeping in another guy's bed just didn't sound good to him the night before. He was a stranger in his own skin. He shuffled his feet, heading to the door. The knocking continued. "Hold on," Al swung it inward. John stood in the doorway. "What?" Al said, uncharacteristically impulsive.

"I went by the hospital..." John said. "Said it was your day off."

"I was thinking of sleeping," Al snapped again. Where is this coming from? he thought.

"Look, Mike..." John put his hands in his pockets. "Can I just come in?"

Al looked at him. He's your brother, he thought. Let him in. Al took a deep breath, moving aside. "Come on." He shut the door behind John. "What couldn't have waited a few more hours?" Al shook his head attempting to snap out of this weird state.

John didn't waste any time. "Did you know Marissa Kensington?"

"Why?" Al said. John was silent. "I don't know her, should I?"

"She was Madison's sister."

Al folded his arms across his chest. "So? Madison has a sister."

"Had a sister. She's dead, Mikey." Al sat down in shock. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't know her, John!" he snapped.

"I just figured since you and Madison..."

"Madison never mentioned her. OK?"

"You and Madison are on the outs and..."

"What are you accusing me of?" Al defended.

"Where were you last night, Mike?" John asked calmly.

"You think I did this?! I told you. I didn't even know the girl."

"Once the police find out about you and Madison they're going to be asking you these same questions."

"Oh so you're protecting me?! Back off, John, OK. You're not Dad!" Al was taken back. He didn't even know what he was saying. This wasn't him, he wasn't like this.

"Look... All I wanted to do was warn you," John said. "You can't just lock yourself away. I'm trying to make an effort here, Mike."

"I don't need your effort." he said. "OK, John? I'm doing just fine on my own."

John shook his head. "Forget it, Mikey. Forget I even came here."

Al turned his back, allowing John to show himself out. He heard the door slam, cringing at the sound. He snapped out of the state he was in, sinking back onto a chair.

"That's not such a hot way to start out," Luna said, standing in front of him.

"I don't know what just happened," Al said, running his fingers through his hair. "It was like I totally lost all control of myself. I didn't even know what I was saying."

"That's because it wasn't you talking, sugar. It was Michael. I told ya you'd get his baggage too, darlin'."

"I'm not going to get anywhere near Marcie like this," Al said.

"So then drop the attitude, sugar." Luna said. "You need to do some fence mending with Johhny now too."

"How do I do that though?" Al asked. "I don't know anything about John... or Michael."

"Sure you do. Ya got his memories. Ya got him runnin' through ya."

"I sure got his attitude," Al said.

"And you need to get that one under control. It ain't gonna be easy, but you can definitely do it. You have to."

Al nodded slowly. "So how do I do this?"

"You're sparring with John McBain. Make peace, baby."

Al stood, pointing his finger. "Hold on. That wasn't part of the master plan. What does clearing the air with him have to do with getting Marcie to see who I really am?"

"Everything links together," Luna said. "They're like puzzle pieces, sugar. When there's a whole lot of em, none of the pieces look like they're gonna fit together. But give it some time. It'll get clearer."

"If you say so," Al sighed. He checked the clock. "I think there's somewhere I need to be."

"Al," Luna said as he hurried around getting ready. "Al," He grabbed his coat. "Don't do something you're gonna regret."