Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter is so short but it was quite draining to write. I also want to say a very heartfelt thank you to my reviewers. You all have been such a huge encouragement to me. I dedicate this chapter to you all. Thank you so much!

Sins of the Father

Chapter Five: Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

She was going to be arrested. She was certain of it. Any minute now, a group of officers were going to knock down her door and slap the cuffs on. She grabbed the whiskey bottle off the counter and swallowed a mouthful. If she was going to be dragged out of her apartment with cuffs on her wrists she did not want to be sober enough to remember. Assault on an officer. It was going to look real good on her record. She was on her fourth mouthful of whiskey when the knock on her door came. Carrying the bottle with her, she opened the door without looking to see who it was.

It surprised her to see the lone form of Detective Goren standing at her door, hands in his pockets and looking sheepish. She took a step towards him and looked out into the hallway.

"Where are your friends?"

Goren looked at her with slight confusion. "What?"

"Aren't you going to arrest me?"

He took notice of the bottle of whiskey. "Should I arrest you?"

Grace walked away from the door and put the bottle in the kitchen. By the time she had made it back into the living room of her apartment, Goren was already there, looking around. She didn't have too much, a book case with medical books and her Far Side collection. She had a couple pictures hanging around, a second hand couch, a chair and a humble TV.

"This is nice," he commented. "This building, it's historic, isn't it?"

Grace wrapped her arms around herself, putting as much distance as she could between her and Goren. She didn't know why she felt so threatened by having his large frame in her small living room but it shook her to the core just the same. He was very...intimidating.

"I guess I should apologize, again. I just...I don't know what came over me."

"Can we sit, please?"

She motioned for him to sit and he folded his frame on her small couch, making it look even smaller. She crossed the room and sat down in the armchair. Silence hung between them and Grace shifted in the chair as Goren did the same thing. It took her a few seconds to realize that he looked more uncomfortable than she did, rubbing his face with his hands, leaning forward and back on the couch. He was making her dizzy.

"I really mean it," she said, "I am sorry for slapping you."

"I know, and I need to apologize to you. I shouldn't have treated you like a suspect."

Grace nodded. "I guess you want an explanation."

"No, actually, your Uncle told me about your mother."

"Okay." Grace propped up her head on her hand and watched Goren. With knowing what he did about her mother he sure didn't show any shock or disgust. Then again, she wasn't sure just how much Uncle Larry had told him either. He might have left out the unpleasant details. "What did Larry tell you?"

Goren looked down at his hands. "He told me that you found your mother in the bathtub, wrists slit, when you were seven. He also told me about you at the graveyard, uh, jumping on the coffin."

"How did he know..." she paused. "My sisters, of course. You do stupid things when you're kid and you're left alone."

"I don't know if I should ask you this, but where was your father during all of this?"

Grace's jaw clenched involuntarily. "My father showed up whenever he needed something. He was in and out my whole life. He has a, um…drug problem." She wished that he wouldn't ask her any more questions. With four shots of whiskey and a cosmopolitan in her, she was afraid her answers would reveal too much. She had survived this long solely on keeping her wounds hidden. It was going to take more than just a few well-phrased questions to break down twenty-five years worth of emotional walls.

Then he did something that totally caught her off guard. He looked at her, straight in the eye. Grace tried to look away but found some form of comfort there. She never really cared much for guys with brown eyes, too average, she told herself. But his were different...whether it was color-related or just the emotions behind them, she couldn't tell. There was such sympathy, a kind devoid of all pity. She could practically feel half those walls crumble. Silently, she begged him not to say anything more. But when he broke eye contact, she knew he would not heed her request.

"I know what it's like to grow up without parents."

Grace looked down at her hands and found them shaking. She folded them in her lap, interlocking her fingers so tightly that her knuckles were white and her wrists hurt. Even though she wasn't looking at him anymore, she still willed him to be silent.

"My mother has...mental issues. My father left when I was eleven. I know what it feels like to be abandoned as a child and forced to take care of the family. I had a younger brother that needed looking after and then my mother needed help. It's...overwhelming."

"That's an understatement." Grace was shocked at the bitterness in her voice. She had planned on letting him talk. She didn't realize she had actually been listening.

"You had two sisters that needed to be taken care of after your mother died. You were seven, how old were they?"

"I don't see what the point is in all of this." Grace felt that by ignoring his questions she was slowly fixing the damage that he had done. "We both had a terrible childhood. We survived. We overcame. End of story."

"But see, it's not the end, is it?"

Grace turned away from him again and stared out the window. Why did he have to be right about this? If he really understood what she was going through then he wouldn't be pushing the matter.

"What happens to us as children never leaves us. How could it? The fear, the hurt, the anger; it may lessen but it never gets resolved completely."

Grace heard him move but didn't look up to see what new position he had settled into. Unfortunately, she didn't have to move to see him. He had knelt down in front of her, tilting his head so he could look at her in the face. She tried to look away from him but no matter where her eyes moved, his followed.

"Grace, listen to me. I know what it's like to be trapped in a room..."

Grace squeezed her eyes shut. She knew truth rang in each of his words. He did understand the feeling. The wall she had been rebuilding fell again.

"To wait in the dark, listening for footsteps to come down the hall..."

Another wall fell. There was a burning sensation behind her eyelids.

"Waiting for that door to open and someone to pick you up..."

Down came another wall. Grace felt something wet hit her hand. If any more tears fell, she didn't feel them on her hands because Goren had placed his over hers.

"And carry you out of that room. Out of the darkness and fear. Away from the hurt and anger."

Grace leaned forward, feeling her forehead come into contact with his suit jacket. Control over her tears was useless. He had broken through years of protection and ripped open her wounds. He was the first one who had tried to reach her. True, she had been sent to counseling in college but she knew she was just a number. There was no caring, no connection. Goren had been there. He had been in that dark "room" that it's every abused child's mind. Someone had pulled him out and now he was pulling her out. She heard his voice in her ear and felt his arms come around her shoulders.

"Someone's walking down the hallway, Grace. Someone's coming for you."

She slid off the chair, leaning fully into him. Sobs wracked her body. The hurt and anger that he had referred to seemed to seep out of the reopened wounds in her spirit. She felt him rock back on his heels, like he would rock a child to sleep. The feeling of safety was irrepressible.

"I'm coming for you, Grace."