A/N: I've been working a LOT lately, but this came together in the early hours of the morning.

Thank you all for sticking around, I really appreciate it. Since we have a saga on our hands, I'll say I don't leave loose threads - it'll all make sense eventually.

Random fact: The chapter title comes from Alanis Morrisette's Not the Doctor.

As always, enjoy x

Chapter 48: M.D.

Wednesday 30th November, 10.31am, Finch's Townhouse, Carnegie Hill, New York

John's wise friend had just brewed a fresh pot of flowering tea, it was a gift from an attractive pregnant woman he had secret weekly suppers with at a French restaurant in town. Since Zoe Morgan was persona no grata in Dexter's Lab, he neglected to mention it to the Team, especially since Shaw was hardly compassionate, Reese had his hands full with his wife and Bear still sniffed the sofa where Scout used to sleep. "Good morning, Mr Reese." He said, cheerily.

"Finch." John greeted, still irritated that their custom-made 8-foot-wide bed wouldn't arrive for the next two weeks no matter how much money he bribed them with.

"Is there a reason why you were in Elmhurst last night?" Finch inquired, observing the flowering mini rose in his teacup.

Ever since Taylor left on Sunday, refusing to explain why his grandfather left so soon or what was bothering him, John had been teetering on the edge of knocking Paul's door down to find out the truth. "So I'm busted. Is that what this is?"

"No, it's more of a pre-intervention. I hope you don't intend to engage Mr Carter because I have credible intel that the likelihood of violence is 55%."

"Just 55?" John half-joked, thinking the Machine must have been off its game.

"May I ask why you were in the area?" Finch prodded, marking the word "Igneous" in his crossword puzzle.

"Something's up with Taylor and he won't tell me or Joss or Greg or the Queen Mother what happened. All I know is Paul knows. And I need to know. As in yesterday."

Telling his employee to be patient wasn't an option. "I recommend that you don't antagonise Mr Carter."

"Why? You know something I don't?

Finch tried to talk him off the ledge with reason. "Biology says no matter what; Taylor will side with his father. And considering you've made great headway in your relationship, I wouldn't like to see that undone by unnecessary conflict."

John didn't want to consider if that was true so he changed the subject. "I'm guessing we've got a new customer."

"Of course, and this assignment requires a change in uniform." John went to his suit closet and found a freshly steamed white coat hanging. "Dr Mark Jessops, General Practitioner?" He read the ID card in the right pocket. "Why me, not Shaw?"

Finch smiled, he was too polite to say her bedside manner was better suited to a circus animal trainer than an attending physician. "Have you heard of Cyrano de Bergerac?"

1.53pm, Turner Hall, Emory University

After encountering Jeremy and being disappointed by his father, Taylor felt there was no-one else in his family he could talk to besides Reggie. If he told John, his mom would know in seconds telepathically and do something explosive, and it was the same with Gregory. Offloading to Zahra gave him great relief, especially when she put her odd spin on the situation with the curve ball statement. "I think it's sad he'll probably die alone." Though it was isolating to feel cut off from both his grandfathers, by death and assholery, at least he had Gregory's gems which proved to be priceless as Taylor found that being a man often meant doing things he didn't want to do because they were right. On the other side of the room was Brock who had struggled to look him in the eye until that afternoon. But for the first time in weeks he greeted Zahra. "Hi."

"Hi?" Zahra said with suspicion, noticing the grey bags under his eyes were fading.

Taylor noticed he still wasn't using her name but at least his aura was less jerklike. Brock cleared his throat. "Ummm…thanks…for the…thing. The thing you did."

"Don't mention it." Taylor didn't know where things stood with Brock and the cult but he knew he didn't have any friends outside it and couldn't have it on his conscience if did something stupid. More stupid than joining a cult, almost flunking out and giving them all his money.

The silence was more awkward than usual. "We're gonna get Thai food, want some?" Taylor offered, giving his roommate a lifeline and his girlfriend a way out.

Brock had never eaten Thai food before but he figured it had to beat noodles. "Yeah."

6.46pm, Tom's Diner, New York

From knowing Paul since 1988, Joss knew his hand-wringing meant his anxiety was getting the better of him again and although his father had abruptly left town the weekend before, it seemed that Jeremy had cast his shadow over their lives. He was on edge, sitting with the fire escape in his sights, rhythmically tapping his foot on the floor. Gina insisted that he saw Joss before his weekly session with Susan because he was becoming more clingy and difficult to live with. The reason why Paul took to this idea wasn't because coming clean was the first step in repairing his relationship with his son but because there was a certain fix he got from being around his first (and only) wife, the same fix he was craving when he showed up unexpectedly in the past.

If he had been more open with Susan, Paul would have known years ago that at the age of 19 he formed an anxious relationship with a green, fresh-off-the-military-base, good girl and he had been living that out ever since. But he didn't want to do that, because that meant going to the root of his relationship with his mother Nicole and the thought of that killed him. "How're you doing?" Joss asked, while on her break between two shifts.

"Here, there." He replied, looking into her eyes and finding genuine concern for their son. "You want something to eat, drink?"

She shook her head. "You wanted to talk."

"Yeah. So umm…" Paul explained what took place with Jeremy, and as she learnt over a decade ago in her military training on "Effective Questioning"; Joss tried her best not to react or confront him, and to treat her subject with respect even when he'd really blown it this time. Usually she would have been filled with sympathy for what he was going through and how it was affecting him but today all she could see was a man who passed the buck at their son's expense, diminishing her respect for him. "I've been trying to get through to Taylor and we talk, but he doesn't get why I did what I did. I never meant to hurt him." You never meant to, but you did. Joss couldn't distinguish if she was thinking of herself, her son or both of them; the original casualties in Paul's War. "You believe me, don't you? I mean, you know me, right?"

Those eyes weren't blue but they got to her in a different way because she knew that look anywhere. When she was young and inexperienced, she thought it meant he was sorry and worth forgiving, a few years in she thought it was the look of responsibility because they were growing up together and maturing, but today as a grown woman she knew what it meant. And why she couldn't go along with it and enable him once more because doing so got them here in the first place. There was a lump forming in her throat she forced words over. "I don't know everything that happened, but I do know you wouldn't intentionally hurt our son." He nodded but the relief was just temporary because she cut the cord with her next sentence. "But you did."

"Joss-"

She cut him off with the slightest raise of her hand. "And you won't stop unless I stop doing this for you. I can't. Paul, I can't do it anymore."

"Joss…" He pleaded.

And it all came back; every time her sorors fielded his calls because she was better off without him, the nameless guy who bought her lunch when she wrote for Milton's newspaper, the four unhappy encounters with Jeremy when he didn't stand up for her, the apologetic look in Nicole's eyes every time they drove away and left her with her husband, the secret conversations she shared with her ex-mother-in-law about Paul's insecurities and why he needed her, the day he was deployed, the day he came home, the Christmas he ruined, the constant fear of living with a suicidal man, the relief of a new home with her son, the day he walked back into their lives…

So many red flags. And then there was John, in her peripheral vision, always there, waiting for her call, with a protective love she could take refuge in. The two worlds didn't match and she could only be one woman. "I want you out of my life."

Seven words gathered Jeremy's shards of glass, glued them together and struck him in the heart. Never before had she said those words; not even in divorce which felt like death. It didn't matter if he called her name a million times, those words couldn't be undone.

"Taylor's not a kid anymore. And I, I just can't…"

The truth came down as hard as a judge's gavel. And it was done.