A/N: Hi everyone and welcome back to the story! This will likely be the longest chapter of the story. There's only one more regular chapter remaining after this, plus the epilogue.

A Street Over and a World Away

Chapter 10: The Healing

"Isaac, I'm so happy we're doing this. Please have a seat. David, always a pleasure to see you. How have you been?"

Jackson frowned as his father and Isaac exchanged pleasantries with Isaac's therapist, Dr. Johnson. As they stepped past her to enter her main office, he hung back in the outer office, letting his mother go first.

"Lana, it's wonderful to finally meet you in person. I've heard so much about you in the community. Your philanthropy and activism have helped more people than you can imagine, many of them my patients and their families."

He continued scrutinizing her as she chatted with his mother. She seemed around his parents' age, maybe a little younger, with blond hair that fell almost to the shoulders of her blue blouse. A pair of black-rimmed glasses sat perched her nose, giving her an air of intelligence that seemed congruent with her penetrating gaze, which she soon turned toward Jackson as his mother walked past her and into the room.

"And you must be Jackson." She extended her hand to him and smiled. "I understand I have you to thank for making this group session finally happen."

Jackson shook her hand and stared her down. "I guess. But I'm not sure how necessary it is."

"Well that's what we're here to discuss. Go on in, have a seat."

Jackson entered the room, finding his parents already settled in wing-back leather chairs around a long coffee table. Isaac occupied a small couch beside them and across from a high-back office chair that seemed to have been rolled over from the nearby desk. It was obviously Dr. Johnson's seat and Jackson smirked to himself as he plopped into it, curious how she would handle the situation.

"Jackson." His father snapped his fingers at him and pointed at the couch next to Isaac.

"It's fine," Dr. Johnson said with an amused smile at Jackson as she settled into the seat beside Isaac herself. "Wherever he's most comfortable."

Jackson relaxed into the chair, pleased with himself, and also with her reaction.

She grabbed a blank pad of paper and a pen from the coffee table. "Now, the foundation for our time together will be that this is a safe space to speak openly and honestly about difficult topics. I'm going to ask that you don't interrupt each other. Everyone will have an opportunity to say what's on their mind about a given topic before we move on. Does that seem fair?"

The others gave their assents and Jackson nodded too. This was obviously some kind of formality they had to get through before they could start, like checking the box and agreeing to the Terms of Service.

"I also request that during our discussions we try to keep the emphasis on our feelings and the effects someone's behavior has on us, rather than making accusations or condemnations about each other. For example, 'When you miss dinner, it makes me feel like I'm not a priority or that family time isn't important to you' rather than, 'You don't care about spending time with us and you always miss dinner.'"

Jackson arched his brow and smirked. The first version sounded cheesy and fake, and he couldn't see himself, his parents, or Isaac saying stuff like that – well, maybe his mother.

Dr. Johnson caught his eye and laughed. "It takes some getting used to and none of us should expect perfection, but the general goal is to express your feelings without attacking each other. Sound good?"

"Sure," Jackson said with a shrug. This should be interesting. The others agreed too and Dr. Johnson continued.

"Something people know but often forget during the bustle of daily life is just how much someone's mood affects their behavior. So let's set the stage by sharing our current moods. Isaac how are you feeling today?"

Isaac gave her a soft smile. He had been smiling at her throughout the introduction, and Jackson got the sense that it was important to him that this go well.

"I'm fine. Uh, good I guess." He flashed everyone else a quick smile too. "I feel like things are good. I'm still just really relieved about the trial last week."

"Thank you, Isaac, that's great to hear." She turned to Jackson's mother. "Lana, how are you feeling today?"

"I'm well, how are you?" She gave Dr. Johnson her signature friendly chitchat smile and Jackson rolled his eyes. This could go on a while.

"I'm great. I'm excited to have you all here. Thanks for asking, but let's get back to you. Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

"Nothing I can think of, but I'll keep you posted," she said with a laugh.

"David, how about you?" Dr. Johnson asked. "How are you feeling this morning?"

The impassive look on his father's face shifted into a slight frown and he half-shrugged. "Stressed. I have a lot to do at the office and we're wasting– I feel like we're wasting time on things that don't matter."

"David." Jackson's mother shook her head and gave Dr. Johnson an apologetic smile.

"It's okay. Thank you for your candor, David. Being aware that you're stressed and worried about work is very helpful. I understand this might seem unnecessary to you, but there is an evidence-based reason why we're doing this, and I promise we won't exceed our alloted time for the day."

"Okay." Mr. Whittemore nodded. "I'll let things play out."

Dr. Johnson returned the nod and shifted her attention to Jackson. "And Jackson, how are you feeling today?"

Jackson didn't hide the smirk on his face as he answered. "Amused and curious."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"No, I'm just waiting to see how things play out too."

"Okay then, let's get into it. I know I suggested to Isaac that you come in for a family session, but he must have asked you, and you must have agreed, for a deeper reason, so let's start there. Would anyone care to volunteer something they feel could be better in the family, or any relational problem they might be having with someone else?"

Isaac lowered his head and looked away, and Jackson's mother gave a tight-lipped smile and shook her head.

Jackson's father sighed. "Alright, I'll put this out there. I'm pretty sure they all think I work too much." He shrugged. "And I do."

"Yeah," Jackson confirmed, pursing his lips and scowling at his father before shifting his attention back to Dr. Johnson, "it's like you were saying earlier, doc, when he works late and misses dinners, it makes me feel like family time isn't important to him." Jackson made sure his voice dripped sarcasm and that his words wouldn't be taken too seriously, but as something else popped into his mind, he continued in a quieter tone. "He misses my games too, even the big ones."

"Jack, I–"

Jackson's jaw twitched. He didn't want another useless apology. He narrowed his eyes on his mother and cut the man off, albeit with the lighthearted sarcasm back in his tone. "And mom's daily boozing makes Isaac feel unsafe." He smirked at his brother, daring him to deny it.

Isaac looked stricken as all eyes turned to him. "Uh, I-I guess that's true."

Jackson's mother gasped and covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry!" he said urgently, giving her an apologetic frown.

"You don't have to apologize for your feelings, Isaac," Dr. Johnson said.

Jackson folded his arms and scowled. He wasn't sure how he had expected them to react, but this wasn't fun so he sighed and offered one more insight. "And as for me, I lash out and hurt them for no real reason…I can be kind of a jerk."

"Thank you for sharing, Jackson. This certainly gives us fertile starting ground. David, I think you were about to say something earlier?"

Jackson's father glanced between Isaac and Jackson's mother before turning back to Jackson and continuing. "I was going to apologize for missing your championship game. I really wish I could have gotten to see you play."

"You could have."

He cleared his throat. "I wish I had gotten to see you play."

Jackson smirked but this time he wasn't amused. "You could have."

"I'm sorry. Next year I'm going to make it a priority to go to more of your games, especially the important ones."

"Right." Jackson bit back a snide comment about Isaac and another about his mother. He wanted to redirect focus, but since this conversation was being guided by the therapist and she had already brought it back to this point once before, that obviously that wasn't going to work. He tried another tack instead. "I guess all we can do is see what happens."

His father sighed and nodded. "You're right. Now it's up to me to follow through."

Jackson nodded too. They were done, right?

"Does it actually bother you when I miss dinner?"

Shit.

"No."

Dr. Johnson arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

Isaac coughed and looked at her.

"Yes Isaac, did you want to say something?"

Isaac gave Jackson a lingering look before speaking. "He's lying."

"Fuck off."

"Jackson, language!" His mother glanced at Dr. Johnson in horror.

"I think she's heard the F-word before, mom."

"I actually do cuss a little," she confirmed with a dry smile.

"Do you?"

"Also, yeah."

Jackson snickered. "What's your favorite curse word?"

"Probably…better if I don't say." Dr. Johnson chuckled and so did Jackson. "Getting back on point, is there anything else you'd like to say about your father's late evenings, Jackson?"

The smile faded from his lips as he shook his head and glowered at Isaac.

"Anyone else?"

"Well, I'm certainly always delighted to have you home in time for dinner, dear." Jackson's mother leaned over in her seat and squeezed his father's arm.

He grunted an acknowledgment.

"And Lana, does it bother you when he isn't home for dinner?"

"Oh." Her eyes widened and a frown flashed across her face before vanishing. "No, I understand he has to work."

"Got anything to say?" Jackson asked Isaac, tipping his head toward his mother.

Isaac licked his lips and shook his head.

Dr. Johnson gave him a reassuring smile before continuing. "Isaac, I'm sorry to put you on the spot, but could you share more with us about your feelings surrounding your foster mother's drinking?"

Isaac looked sick to his stomach and the smile on Jackson's mother's face was so tight he wondered if her face would crack.

"I…I have some issues from my dad that I'm working through. Mrs. Whittemore has never done anything to make me think history is going to repeat itself. I just…They're my issues to deal with on my own."

Jackson's mother hesitated for a moment before leaning forward and catching Isaac's gaze. "No, sweetie," she said softly, "it's not for you to deal with on your own."

"Okay, I mean, I guess we can talk about it, but I don't expect you to" –he dropped his eyes to the floor between his feet– "change your behavior or anything for me."

"Well maybe…" She cleared her throat and tried to smile but her lip trembled.

Jackson's blood ran cold and he glared at Isaac, even though he wasn't sure exactly what he was mad at him for.

"Maybe I want–" A sob slipped out.

"Lana." Jackson's father leaned forward, draping an arm around her shoulders.

"Maybe I want to change," she whispered.

Jackson bit down on his tongue as something trembled and broke within his stomach.

"That's a big decision, Lana," Dr. Johnson said in a calm tone.

Jackson was done trying to decide what he thought of the therapist. He officially hated her. They had only been in this room fifteen minutes and she had already destroyed his family.

Jackson's mother laughed, a caricature of the light, breezy tingle that normally characterized her humor. "I've decided lots of times before." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and addressed Isaac. "Including the day you moved in with us." Another laugh that wasn't hers. "I only made it until lunch."

Isaac looked away.

"Lana, substance abuse–"

Jackson's mother flinched.

"–isn't my area of practice, but if you'd like, I can recommend someone."

"Okay. I guess…yes." Everyone fell silent as she sat back in her chair, covered her face with her hand, and rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, I-I seem to have a headache. Could we continue this another time?"

Dr. Johnson glanced at Jackson's father and he nodded. They both stood.

"Of course. Let me just get you my colleague's business card." She stepped past Jackson and opened a little door on the hutch of her desk.

"I'll drive you home," Jackson's father said as he helped Jackson's mother out of her chair.

"Uhm." Isaac made no move to get up and Jackson hesitated with his hands on the arms of the desk chair as he started to rise. "Can we finish the session?"

"Certainly," Dr. Johnson answered as she found what she was looking for and passed Jackson's father a small embossed card.

He glanced at it and angled it toward Jackson's mother for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. "I'll send Grant to pick you up," he said to Isaac. "Jackson?"

Isaac locked eyes with him but didn't say anything – and Jackson was surprised to realize he knew exactly what Isaac wanted.

"I'll stay too," he answered, rising from his seat after all so he could take the space on the couch by Isaac.

Isaac gave him a small smile and he grunted.

Dr. Johnson walked Jackson's parents out and then she was back and settling into the rolling chair Jackson had occupied. "Okay then, that was certainly momentous. Isaac, did you have anything you wanted to say about it?"

Isaac nodded and looked at Jackson before continuing. "Was it real? Is she just gonna…get help now? Just like that?"

"I don't know," Dr. Johnson answered, holding his gaze. "I hope so. It sounds like it's something she's wanted to do for a long time."

"Has she ever tried to quit before?" he asked Jackson.

"I dunno. It's not like she discussed it with me." He shrugged. "But yeah, I think so. It's like she said; she never really makes it very long. But I've noticed her tensely not drinking at a few meals here and there, or missing her afternoon drinks."

"Does saying it out loud change anything?" Isaac asked Dr. Johnson.

"It certainly does add an extra layer of accountability, as does accepting my referral, especially in front of all of you."

He turned to Jackson. "Are you mad at me?"

Yes. "No." It hurt that she had never made the effort to quit drinking for Jackson or his father. Then suddenly Isaac comes along and all of a sudden she's putting down the bottle. "I'm glad she wants to quit for you."

Isaac held eye contact with him for a couple of beats, obviously not buying it. "Thanks."

Jackson pursed his lips and grunted.

"What do I need to do?" he asked, and Jackson wasn't sure whether the question was directed to him or Dr. Johnson.

"Nothing," Dr. Johnson said softly. "Be honest with her if she wants to talk, but it's up to her to take these steps."

"I don't feel like I d-deserve–"

"It's not about you," Jackson cut in. Isaac winced but he continued. "It's about her. I think you just gave her a tangible reason."

Isaac lowered his head but nodded.

"That's very insightful, Jackson," Dr. Johnson said.

He grunted again.

"And how you feel about all this?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

He shrugged and answered in a dull tone, "Fucking ecstatic."

Isaac took a deep breath and bumped Jackson's foot with his own before changing the subject. "It's been bothering me that he knew I was being abused but never said anything."

Dr. Johnson gave a small nod – had they talked about this before? Jackson nodded too – they certainly had.

"And um, I wanna get over it, but I'm not sure how."

"I'm sorry." Jackson said it quietly, but with no effort to mask the sincerity in his voice.

"And I believe you. It's just…" Isaac shrugged and looked to Dr. Johnson. "It still hurts."

"It's difficult when the people we love hurt us."

They both cringed and looked away from each other.

"It doesn't have to be completely okay now," she continued. "Trust is earned, and re-earned, over time."

"But I do trust him," Isaac answered, turning his head just enough to look at Jackson out of the corner of his eye. "I know he would have my back now. And–"

"I would," Jackson blurted out.

Isaac gave a crisp nod of acknowledgment. "And we barely knew each other then."

Jackson hummed his agreement.

"So I know I shouldn't really care or let it affect things now."

"I'll make it up to you."

Isaac shook his head. "You already have."

"Then what–"

"I don't know," he answered.

They both looked to Dr. Johnson for help.

She frowned and nodded. "Relationships are complicated, and sometimes even when you've forgiven someone and resolved to continue having them in your life, the wounds, the sore spots in your relationship, don't necessarily go away. For example…" She paused and looked at Jackson, silently asking his permission before continuing. He wasn't sure for what, but he nodded. "Your father's missed a lot of important moments in your life. If he starts doing everything right from this point on, you may still find it hurts to look back on the times he missed."

"Probably," Jackson said softly.

"So, I need to just be okay with it hurting?" he asked.

"That's your decision, Isaac," she answered, "and only you can know what's an acceptable level to bear in a relationship that matters to you."

"I um" –Isaac coughed and squeezed Jackson's shoulder– "I accept it."

Jackson rolled his eyes – and surprised them both by turning and wrapping his arms around Isaac in a tight hug.

"It's okay. I accept it," Isaac repeated softly, returning the tight embrace.


The rest of Isaac's week after his family session with the Whittemores seemed to happen at double speed, perhaps because he didn't get the alone time he was used to to process everything that was happening. Jackson's lacrosse season was over and his swim training wouldn't begin in earnest until after the Christmas holidays, which left him with more free time than usual, free time he seemed determined to spend with Isaac. And that was okay…like really okay.

In the first couple of weeks after they had found out they were twins, it had almost exclusively been Jackson making an effort to bond with Isaac, but that changed after their therapy session. For the first time in his entire life, Isaac decided to go all in on a friendship, and he and Jackson hung out a lot over the next few days. From eating breakfast together, riding to school, meeting each other between classes, sitting together at lunch, studying and working on homework, having dinner, and just chilling and playing games or watching shows together until bed, Isaac had a nearly constant companion from the time he woke up until he went to sleep. He was sure Jackson would get busy again, and he himself would certainly need more time and space on his own soon, but a couple of weeks of focusing on getting to know his new brother didn't seem like such a terrible idea, especially since Jackson was actually really fun to be around now that they were on better footing.

That wasn't to say Jackson didn't still tease him sometimes. His favorite thing to tease Isaac about was that he called Jackson's parents 'Mr. and Mrs. Whittemore.' And yeah, that was starting to feel a little overly formal to him too, especially since the paperwork had all been filed and soon – the California legal system willing – the Whittemores would become Isaac's parents too. It came to a head one evening at dinner. Mr. Whittemore was home early and Mrs. Whittemore was drinking a sparkling water – more lingering effects from their group session – when Mr. Whittemore complimented Isaac on his steadily improving grades.

"Thanks Mr. Whittemore."

Jackson snickered and rolled his eyes and Mr. Whittemore himself was obviously also amused given his response.

"You're welcome, Mr. Lahey."

Isaac's cheeks burned but he chuckled awkwardly.

"Don't pay him any mind, sweetie," Mrs. Whittemore said. "You call us whatever you're comfortable with."

"Of course," Mr. Whittemore said, the smile remaining on his face but most of the outright amusement fading. "Whatever you like, Isaac."

Isaac nodded and took a sip of soda to mask his discomfort.

"Seriously?" Jackson set his fork down with a clank and leaned back, exasperation written across his face. "So we're gonna be what, thirty-five, coming home for Christmas, and he's going to hand you cards with Mister and Missus scrawled across them?"

"Uh, I guess that would be weird," Isaac conceded. "What are the, um, other options?"

Mr. Whittemore laughed. "You could call us David and Lana."

"David and Lana," Isaac repeated slowly, as if just learning their first names.

"Mom and Dad would certainly be okay too," Mrs. Whittemore said.

"Lana." Mr. Whittemore gave her a look then motioned with his eyes at Isaac.

"Only if you're comfortable of course," she added, "and there's no pressure."

Isaac looked to Jackson for his reaction.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me."

Isaac blinked, finding that difficult to believe. "Well," he said as he pondered the situation, "I've never had a Mom and as for Dad, well…that's kind of a loaded term."

"You could go with Pops and Ma," Jackson interjected.

Everyone frowned at him.

"Uh, I guess David and Lana," Isaac said.

"Great," Mr. Whit– David said.

Lana smiled and patted Isaac's hand on the table.

After dinner as they were getting up, Jackson suggested he and Isaac play another round of Race for the Galaxy, the board game he had gotten Isaac as a peace offering a couple of weeks prior after Isaac had discovered that Jackson had known about his abuse all along.

"Why don't we all play?" David suggested. "We have a game room, we'd might as well use it!"

"Oh a board game would be fun!" Lana clapped her hands together and grinned. "I don't think I've played one since Jackson was a child." She leaned closer to Isaac and whispered conspiratorially, "He used to love Chutes and Ladders."

Isaac chuckled and gave Jackson a teasing look. "Shouldn't this have been in those getting-to-know-you files you prepared?" he asked David, still smirking at Jackson.

David slapped his forehead dramatically. "A devastating oversight!"

Jackson groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'll go set up the room."

"I'll get the game," Isaac said.

It ended up being a fascinating night. Isaac wasn't surprised that David was competitive, but what was unexpected was how stealthily Lana played the game, flying under the radar and acting as if she didn't have a larger strategy in mind while steadily accruing resources and tactical advantages. Around the midpoint of the first game, Isaac realized he and Jackson and David were screwed. They seemed less surprised, and less amused.

The next two games were much closer with Isaac narrowly beating out Jackson to claim victory in the second and David eking out first place in the third. They didn't play a fourth game, much to Jackson's vocal disappointment, but he made them all promise to play again the next night so he could get his revenge. David seemed hesitant to commit to another game night, but ultimately agreed. Isaac was beyond relieved the next evening when he made it home in time to keep the engagement.


"Well, well, if it isn't my prodigal boyfriend," Lydia said as she opened her front door.

Jackson arched his brow, trying to interpret her tone and the wry expression on her face. Was she mad at him or–

She laughed and draped an arm around his neck as she kissed him.

He relaxed into the embrace and held her close as he returned the kiss, happy to let his hormones distract him as her comforting presence soothed him.

"I think that's enough," she said in a breathy whisper as she broke the kiss and pulled away. "At least while we're standing in the doorway. The neighbors don't need a free show."

Jackson licked his lips and gave her his best smoldering looking. He'd come here to talk but…

"Are your parents home?"

"They are not," she answered with a smolder of her own as she locked the door.

"Upstairs?"

"Why Jackson, are you propositioning me within thirty seconds of entering my home?"

"Is that a no?"

She giggled and took off at a sprint toward the staircase. "Catch me if you can!"

About a half hour later they were lying in Lydia's bed as she trailed idle fingers over Jackson's chest and stomach.

"So, are you ready to tell me what's on your mind?"

"Who says anything's on my mind?" He smirked and leaned in for a kiss. "Other than the obvious."

Lydia flicked her tongue over his lips and slid her hand low enough down his abdomen that he was about to kick away the sheets when she pulled back and collapsed onto her pillow. "C'mon Jackson, I know when something's bothering you."

"It can wait."

She laughed and smoothed the sheet over her chest. "It's already waited once."

"What can I say? I haven't seen you all week."

She bit her bottom lip and ran heavy eyes up the length of his body before reaching his face. "And that's why I was more than happy not to ask any questions until now, but…?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair. Now that she had fixated on getting him to talk, there was no avoiding it.

"I think my mom's secretly drinking."

Her eyes registered the barest hint of surprise and dismay, but her face remained placid and her tone calm as she spoke. "What's going on?"

He took a breath, willing himself not to overreact. His mom had been drinking heavily for years; it was hardly the end of the world now.

"Pretty much what I said. She hasn't been drinking in front of anyone since the therapy session last week – our group one. She's had a couple of solo visits with a specialist – but I know the signs. I think she drinks during the day when Isaac and I are at school and my dad's at work. Last night when we were sitting down for dinner I thought I smelled it on her breath. She's probably sneaking drinks from a flask in the evenings too."

Lydia stroked Jackson's arm and squeezed his wrist. "Have you confronted her?"

"No, she'd just deny it, or find a way not to answer. I was thinking I might ask Vicky or Grant if they've seen anything. Hell for all I know, Vicky might still be making her cocktails like normal while no one else is home."

"Hmm, maybe, but it's not really fair to put her or Grant in the middle of all this. Have you talked to Isaac or your dad?"

"No, of course not." Jackson scowled at her. "Why would I put them in the middle of this?"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Because they're family."

"Right so…" Jackson looked away. "I don't want to upset them if I'm not positive."

Lydia hummed sympathetically but shook her head. "It's kind of up to your dad to handle it. He's the adult, and her husband."

Jackson felt his frown deepening. "I don't know…he's been spending more time at home and things are good right now. I don't wanna blow it all up and send him back to his office twenty-four seven."

"I get that," she said softly, "but he needs to know."

"No." Jackson shook his head as he reached a decision. "I mean yeah, if I'm right, I guess he should get involved, but for once I'm not just going to set them up to have a huge fight and walk away to make things easier for myself. I'll talk to her."

She gave him a look that was uncomfortably close to proud. It made him feel weirder about the whole thing. "Maybe talk to Isaac too? I don't think this would be a good thing to blindside him with."

"No." Jackson hated that idea. "There's no way I'm bringing him into this unless I know I'm right, especially with the finalization hearing for his adoption coming up next weekend. I don't want him – or worse the judge – to think his adoption is a mistake."

"I doubt Isaac would think that."

"I guess," Jackson answered. She hadn't said anything about the judge, which only confirmed for Jackson that they really didn't need any of this coming out until after the ink had dried on all the paperwork and Isaac was officially and legally part of the family. "I'm gonna wait until after the hearing to bring it up to her. Give her a few more days to get her shit together on her own or to confirm my suspicions."

"That seems like a good idea," Lydia answered. "I'm here for you in the meantime."

"Yeah," Jackson answered, winding an arm around her shoulders.

"Danny and Aiden would be too if you told them."

"Yeah, I guess." He didn't think it would come to that. It's not like he needed to get everyone involved in his personal drama.


Isaac's heart raced as he got ready to go back to court the morning of the finalization hearing for his adoption. David had assured him it was little more than a formality at this point, and he certainly felt at least a whole order of magnitude more calm about this than he had about his father's trial, but the fact remained that this judge could basically snap their fingers and blow up the entire new life he had been building. How was he not supposed to be freaking out?

His phone buzzed in the pocket of his slacks as he straightened his tie in front of the mirror. It was Ethan.

Ethan: Breathe

Isaac laughed and did just that, taking a long, deep breath before texting back.

Isaac: [Face gusting out air Emoji]

Ethan: [Eye rolling Emoji]

Isaac: [Upside down smiley face Emoji]

Ethan: You want us to meet you out front or inside?

Isaac took another breath and thought it over. After David had assured everyone that this was more of a celebration and ceremony than a tense legal fight, Jackson had invited the twins, Danny, and Lydia to attend the hearing. It felt weird and the extra attention he would be receiving certainly wasn't helping his nerves, but at the same time part of him was a bit touched that his new friends had jumped on the invitation, especially since today was Saturday and it wasn't just an excuse to get out of school for a few hours.

Isaac: Out front please

He'd might as well get all of the greetings and chitchat out of the way before they went in.

Ethan: [Thumbs up Emoji]

There was a knock on Isaac's door as he tucked and retucked his shirt, trying to eliminate all the creases at the bottom.

"Come in."

"Good morning, sweetie. My, don't you look handsome? You're going to be the best dressed person in the court!"

Isaac laughed and hugged Lana with one arm as she kissed his cheek. "I doubt that. Attorneys always have such fancy suits."

She hummed and tapped her cheek. "Do you want to borrow one of David's?"

"Uh no, this one's great, thanks," he answered as he remembered that they had bought it for him. Hell, it probably was a relatively fancy suit now that he thought about it.

"I have something for you." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small, flat black box with a gray bow, which she passed him.

He thanked her and took it, his curiosity piqued as he lifted the top and revealed–

"Oh, um, this is nice." He gently picked up the delicate chain bracelet, which was obviously made for women. "I don't think it'll go with my suit though."

She laughed and rubbed his back. "It's not for today, sweetie. I meant it as more of a keepsake. Though of course it's your business if you do want to wear it. It was your mother's."

"My…" Isaac's mouth went dry. "My mother's?"

Lana nodded and held the bracelet up to the light. "Isn't it lovely? I must have complimented her on it a dozen times after they moved in. She used to come over for coffee every now and then."

"Oh." He blinked as he processed that information, trying to picture the woman he knew only from photos and stories here, in his new home, maybe sitting in the parlor or perhaps at the 'breakfast nook' by the bay window.

"One day during her pregnancy she came by after a doctor's appointment. It turned out that due to hormone changes, her skin was more sensitive and she was allergic now." Lana nodded at the bracelet. "So she gave it to me."

"Oh wow," Isaac answered softly as he traced his finger over the thin, gray metal. "I always thought" –he cleared his throat as his voice caught– "that she left because of me. That's what my dad always said, that she didn't want any more kids after Camden."

"Oh no. No, not at all," Lana answered as she stepped closer. "She was very excited, especially when she found out she was having twins."

"She knew?"

Lana nodded. "She was over the moon when she told me."

"Was my dad…"

She frowned and bit her lower lip. "He was less excited, dear."

A cold weight settled in Isaac's stomach as the pieces came together. "So he said she didn't want more kids and that she left to get away from us, but really…he felt that way. He wanted to leave but he didn't. So he took it out on me."

"I-I don't know, sweetie." She patted his back, an uncharacteristic burst of anger flashing across her face. "I never knew what the hell that man was thinking, or why he did any of the things he did."

"It doesn't matter," Isaac answered softly. "He doesn't matter anymore."

She gave him a small nod and another pat on the back. Isaac didn't think she was convinced by his last statement – and neither was he.

"Anyway," he continued in a stronger voice as he shoved his thoughts aside. "Do you think it'd be okay if I took this with us?" he asked, holding up the bracelet again. "For good luck."

She smiled and squeezed Isaac's arm. "I think she'd be honored."

Isaac gave her a quick smile and slipped the bracelet into his pocket. "Will you tell me about her some time?"

"I would be honored." She kissed Isaac's cheek again before turning to leave. "David and I will be downstairs when you're ready. I think Jackson–" She laughed as he appeared in the open doorway. "Well here he is now."

Jackson stepped aside for his mother to pass then strolled into the room. "You ready? You look ready."

Isaac frowned and turned back to the mirror, fussing with the creases that dipped into his pants. "Is my shirt okay?"

"Yeah."

"Is it even in the back?" He turned and craned his neck to see.

Jackson grunted and shoved Isaac's shoulder. "It's even in the back. Besides, it's not like the judge is gonna deny us custody if your shirt is messy."

"Are you sure?"

"Like eighty percent."

Isaac's eyes widened and he vigorously tucked the creases into his pants.

"I'm kidding." Jackson draped an arm around Isaac's shoulders and pulled him away from the mirror. "That's definitely not a thing. And you look nice."

"Thanks," Isaac answered, taking a seat on his bed. Jackson sat across from him. "Okay, worst case scenario, what if they really do deny the adoption?"

"We'll fight it," Jackson answered, tension creeping into his jaw. "And we'll still see each other at school, and I know my parents will find a way to see you too. And in a couple years we'll be eighteen and it won't even matter."

"What if I'm sent out of state?"

"That's not how California foster care works."

"Oh." Isaac's cheeks warmed. "Well across state or something?"

"Dude, seriously, that's not gonna happen. This is a done deal." Jackson kicked Isaac's foot as it dangled off the bed. "But like I said, we'd still find a way to see you. I promise."

"Okay," Isaac answered softly. If his brother promised him something, he believed it.

"Ready?"

He nodded and they went downstairs to meet Lana and David.

He tried and failed to avoid thinking about his biological parents on the way to the courthouse – on his way to officially have new parents. He couldn't help it. He had spent his whole life thinking he was the reason his parents had split up, that he was the reason his father drank. He was never supposed to be conceived, his mother had wanted an abortion but his dad had talked her out of it, so she left after he was born. That was the story he'd heard time and again. He'd spent countless nights lying awake thinking she was off somewhere having the time of her life. He'd been happy for her, and resented her, and prayed she'd come back and put their family back together – and she'd been dead all along.

Weirdly, he had only discussed her in his therapy sessions with Dr. Johnson before he found out she was dead. He'd given Dr. Johnson the cliffnotes version that she hadn't abandoned him after all, but they'd never really explored how he felt about that in favor of focusing on the more immediate, pressing concerns relating to his surprise twin brother, possible adoption, and his father's trial. And that had suited him just fine. He hadn't been ready to begin unpacking how he felt about his mother in light of the new information he had.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and gently wound the cool links of the bracelet around his finger. He still wasn't ready to talk to Dr. Johnson about her. He glanced at Jackson. Him either. He wanted to talk to them both; he would talk to them both, but he needed to sort things out in his own head first. It was too raw and intense. He needed to adjust to the new reality by himself before he talked about it with other people. Besides, as much as it turned out he had in common with Jackson, this was an exception. This was the only aspect of their weird, secret family reality that Jackson had actually known the truth about. Jackson hadn't known about Isaac, or Camden, or who his dad was or that he was alive, but he'd always correctly known that his mother had died in an accident on the day he was born. Isaac didn't exactly envy him growing up with the weight of that knowledge, but at least he'd had plenty of time to come to terms with it.

"There's Lydia," Jackson said, holding a hand up and waving at the car behind them as they pulled into the parking lot.

Isaac gave a quick wave too but hung back as everyone got out of the car, letting his brother greet his girlfriend semi-privately and waiting until Jackson waved him over.

"You clean up nice," Lydia said with a laugh as she hugged Isaac.

Jackson frowned and Isaac's cheeks heated.

"There's Danny," Isaac called as he spotted his car pulling in. He'd even ridden in it recently when Danny and Ethan had taken him to get his hair cut.

"And he has the twins with him," Jackson said as the car got closer and they could make out one brother sitting in the front seat beside Danny and the other in the backseat leaning forward.

They waited for them to park then strolled over to meet them.

"Malia would have been here, but she's on a hunting trip in Colorado with her dad," Aiden said after everyone had exchanged greetings.

"Okay," Isaac answered, unsure what else to say.

"She said she'd kill something for you." Aiden laughed as Isaac felt the blood drain away from his face.

"We can mount the head on the wall in your room!" Jackson said as he clapped a hand on Isaac's shoulder.

Isaac whipped his head around to gape at him.

"I hang hoodies and jackets on the one she killed for me," Danny said with a grin, grabbing the lining of the jacket he was wearing.

"I use mine as a key rack." Ethan tossed his keys into the air and caught them.

Isaac was pretty sure they had all grown three heads and looked at them accordingly.

"They're just teasing," Lydia said with an eye roll as she looped her arm through Isaac's and steered him back toward the end of the parking lot where David and Lana were waiting.

He ducked his head as Jackson and the twins dissolved into laughter behind them.

The group made their way into the courthouse and passed single file through the metal detectors before pausing so everyone who wanted to could make a pit stop at the restrooms before they continued to the room where the finalization hearing was to be held in fifteen minutes.

Everyone was in a good mood and chattering all at once, and Isaac could barely keep up. Yes, a twin movie night – with both sets of twins in attendance and featuring movies about twins – sounded fun and hysterical. Sure, he'd go shopping with Lydia and Danny. He'd be happy to decorate the Christmas tree with Lana this year. If David wanted to take him to the club to meet his friends, he could do that. He'd do whatever any of them wanted as long as this hearing really did go the way everyone seemed to be taking it for granted that it would.

Finally it was time for the hearing to start, and suddenly he desperately wished he had another fifteen minutes to let everyone make hypothetical plans for him.

"It's okay, son," David said quietly to Isaac as he guided him to a table at the front of the room with a hand on his back. "I've known Judge Winchel for years. You'll like him."

Isaac nodded and sat down, his stomach roiling. David and Jackson sat beside him with Lana on Jackson's other side, while their friends sat behind them in the front row. The table overlooked a typical judge and witness stand, and Isaac assumed the judge would sit there, but instead when he emerged from his chambers at the rear of the room, he smiled and ambled toward the table, where another chair had been set up across from Isaac and Jackson. They'd only just sat down, but everyone stood again as the judge entered.

He was an older man with white hair and a silver mustache, and he walked with a stiff gait. Nevertheless, he had a friendly face, and the smile he gave the family helped lower Isaac's anxiety.

"David, good to see you." He nodded at the man but extended his hand to Isaac first. "Isaac, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Judge Winchel. Thank you for coming to see me today."

"Thank you." Isaac shook his hand. "Your-your Honor."

"You must be Jackson." He shook his hand as well. "And Lana, I believe we've met before."

"I think so!" She smiled and clasped the judge's hand in both hers. "At the food drive last summer."

"That's right." He patted her hand before letting go and finally shaking David's.

He pulled out his chair and eased into it, and after a nod from David, Isaac and the others followed suit and sat down.

The judge laughed as he noticed Isaac looking between him and the courtroom stand in the rear of the room. "No need for all that formality for something like this."

Isaac rubbed his palms across his pants beneath the table to dry them before folding his hands on the table in front of him and trying to look calm.

"I've reviewed your record. I'm sorry about the things you've gone through."

Isaac nodded, unsure what else to do.

"And I'm glad you're no longer in that situation."

"Me too," he said softly.

The judge smiled at him and opened a folder he'd carried with him to the table. "I see here Priscilla Newcastle handled your case, a fine woman."

"Yeah, she did a good job."

Jackson shot him an amused smirk, which he ignored.

"Ah, and you're in therapy with Dr. Savannah Johnson."

Isaac just nodded again, making a note of his psychologist's first name, which he hadn't known before.

The judge raised his eyes, his fingers lingering on the file. "She's appeared in my court numerous times. I might have recommended her if you weren't already seeing her."

David patted Isaac's shoulder. "I called her as soon as Ms. Newcastle arranged for him to come home with us."

The judge hummed his approval and shifted his gaze to Jackson, "And I understand you and Isaac are biological brothers?"

"Twins." Jackson grinned and bumped Isaac's arm with his elbow.

The judge hummed again and gave a deep nod. "Family, counseling for the trauma, and adoptive parents who can give you good home – everything here looks good on paper." He closed the file and leaned forward, catching Isaac's gaze with his own and holding eye contact. "So let me ask you, Isaac, is this what you want for your future?"

Isaac swallowed and nodded, not looking away from Judge Winchel. "Very much."

The judge tapped his hands on the table and smiled. "Excellent! Then I'm delighted to approve this petition for adoption. Congratulations to you and the whole family!"

A wave of warm excitement crashed over Isaac as Jackson and David jumped to their feet beside him, whooping and tugging him up. They both embraced him at once and so too did Lana as she wrapped her arms around Jackson and Isaac. Cheering erupted from the courtroom gallery and as his hug with the Whittemores ended, the twins were next with an embrace of their own that caught Isaac off guard, and which was followed by more hugs from Lydia and Danny.

Lana asked Judge Winchel to take a picture of everyone together, which he cheerfully obliged, and then Lana and David went through some more paperwork while everyone chatted at once, making a fresh round of plans with Isaac. He took deep breaths and drank it all in, finally ready to believe that this was his new life, that he was going to get to stay with Jackson and the Whittemores for good, and that he was actually going to do the activities his new friends were planning with him.


Jackson rarely cut classes. He was serious about his grades and academic record and he wasn't going to let anything get in the way of admission into an elite college. Nevertheless, he was a practical person and in the grand scheme of things, his time this Wednesday afternoon would be put to better use not in classes. It was time to confirm his suspicions about his mother's drinking once and for all, and to do it he needed to catch her in the act. He had been watching her carefully in the roughly week and a half since he'd first voiced his concerns to Lydia, and while he had only grown more and more suspicious, it was obviously she wasn't going to do something like pass out or get sloppy drunk in front of him, Isaac, or his dad – which he supposed was itself some measure of progress – so that left catching her with a drink in her hand as the only option.

He sent Isaac a text from the school parking lot before starting his car.

Jackson: Lydia is going to give you a ride home today

He frowned when his phone buzzed with a new message a few minutes later. Isaac should not have been texting him back while he was in class – and sure, Jackson was outright skipping school, but it didn't matter. Jackson could afford to miss some classes, whereas Isaac still needed all the instruction time he could get. Jackson read the text as he pulled up to a stop sign.

Isaac: What why? Are you leaving? You sick?

Jackson checked his mirror before responding – no one was behind him.

Jackson: I'll explain later. Pay attention to your class.

He groaned and set his phone in the passenger seat. He hoped he wouldn't actually have to explain later. He'd tell Isaac the truth if his suspicions were confirmed and he caught his mother drinking when he got home – which he fully expected would be the case – but if she somehow wasn't drinking, he'd make up an excuse to her and to Isaac for why he had gone home in the middle of the day. Nausea and a severe headache should be sufficient, especially since he was going home instead of some place fun.

His phone buzzed one more time on the way, which further annoyed him since he was sure it was Isaac pestering him for answers instead of focusing on his English class, but after pulling into his garage and parking, he checked it to find a text from Lydia instead.

Lydia: Good luck [heart Emoji]

The tense scowl on Jackson's face momentarily abated as he read the message and responded.

Jackson: Thanks going in now

He had no sooner stepped through the door than he was met with an alarmed Vicky.

"Oh my, Jackson, you're home early," she exclaimed in a loud voice. "You're HOME VERY EARLY, JACKSON!"

He pursed his lips and grunted, but otherwise ignored her as he hustled toward the sitting room where his mother liked to lounge by the window during day. He picked up his pace at the sound of glass shattering.

"You startled me, honey," his mother said as she dropped a throw blanket on the floor by her feet beside the chaise lounge where she was standing.

Jackson narrowed his eyes and advanced on her, stooping to grab the blanket.

"Jack don't, you'll cut yourself." She crouched defensively over the blanket and grabbed his arms as he reached for it. "I broke my glass of–"

"Of what, Mom?" He pulled his arms away and glowered at her. "What were you drinking?"

"Tea," she answered in a dry voice.

"I'll clean it up for you," Vicky said from behind Jackson.

"Get out!" He shouted at the maid. "And mind your own damn business."

She took a faltering step back and shot Jackson's mother a questioning look.

"It's okay," his mother answered, lowering her eyes, her face red. "I'll clean it up."

"Let me see." Jackson grabbed the blanket only for his mother to desperately grip his wrists again.

"No," Vicky yelled as she stepped around Jackson and squatted beside them, also grabbing a corner of the blanket. "It's my job. Go to your room, Jackson. You're upsetting your mother."

She sobbed on cue, her whole body trembling.

Jackson ignored them and yanked the blanket away, sending shards of glass spinning across the floor. He wasn't sure exactly what he was meant to be revealing. The blanket had soaked up most of the liquid, leaving behind a few ice cubes and some large chunks of wet glass, but he sniffed the dripping fabric for dramatic effect anyway. "Alcohol!"

"I'm sorry," his mother said in a quivering voice as she covered her face.

"You can clean it up now," he said to Vicky in the coldest voice he could muster as he dropped the blanket. He stood and stormed out of the room, not sparing a glance back at either of them.

As he reached the staircase in the center of the home, his mother's shrill voice rang out behind him.

"Jackson wait!"

He grunted and ascended the stairs, stopping only once he reached the landing and it became apparent she was running up after him.

"Careful mom, you'll fall in your drunken state," he shouted at her.

She didn't say anything, just pressed her lips together into a tight line as she finished her ascent and reached for him. As soon as she touched him, he huffed and took off again, up the smaller side staircase that would take him to the hallway with his room.

"Please, can't we talk about this?" she called, still following him.

"WHAT?!" he turned and shouted a few steps from the top. "What is there to talk about? You said you were going to stop drinking and you didn't – because of course you didn't."

"I-I didn't think it was so important to you."

Jackson scoffed and jogged the rest of the way up the stairs, intent on getting to his room and locking her out.

"Please, I'm trying."

"Oh really, you're trying?" He whipped his head back and glared at her, stopping her in her tracks at the top of the staircase. "Gee mom, cocktails in the afternoon is such an improvement. I don't know how you do it."

"I wasn't going to get drunk." She took a pleading step forward. "Maybe a little tipsy, but I would have been fine by the time you and Isaac got home."

Jackson's scowl deepened, even though he could inwardly admit that he hadn't come home to her outright drunk since she claimed to have quit.

"What does your new therapist think? Huh, does he know?!"

She nodded, looking away from his face. "He knows…he's really helping me put things into perspective."

"Yeah, I bet." He turned and continued up the hall toward his room.

"Wait." She ran after him and tugged at his shoulder.

He huffed and folded his arms. "What?"

"Could you…give me a little more time before you tell your father or Isaac? I-I'm going to quit. I'm getting better."

Jackson's blood ran cold. Despite his anger, he wanted to agree – not to protect her but to spare himself from having those conversations and his dad and Isaac from having to bear that burden. He sighed and sagged against the wall. It was tempting…but he did need to protect her.

"What's the plan?"

"Hmm?" She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"How are you planning to quit drinking?"

"I-I'm drinking less."

"Less isn't none, and you're hiding it and being all shady."

"I just didn't want–"

"Accountability."

She huffed and shook her head. "That's not fair."

"None of this is," he answered, "but you need accountability. I'm not going to tell Isaac and Dad."

"Oh thank you, honey! I promise I'll–"

"You are." He folded his arms and stared her down. "Tonight at dinner."

"I can't." She sobbed. "Please don't make me."

"For godsakes, Mom, really?"

"I-I know you're right. I know I need more help but…" More tears ran down her cheeks as she wiped her eyes. "I just can't. I'm not ready. Let me do this my way, please. I'll taper off, and then when I'm ready I'll–"

"Stop." He said it softly, gently even, surprising himself as he stepped closer and touched her shoulder. "You started this process for Isaac, so if you can't take this next step for yourself, do this for me."

She went still, her eyes snapping up to his.

"Get help, Mom. I'm not gonna ask again. Ever. So…" He felt his bottom lip tremble as an unforeseen wave of emotion crashed over him.

She sniffled one more time and slowly nodded before throwing her arms around him and hugging him. "Okay, baby. I-I will. I won't let you down."

Jackson nodded against her shoulder and returned the hug.

"I'll talk to your dad and Isaac tonight, and we'll figure out where to go from here together."

He sighed and let himself believe her, however unlikely it seemed.

Lydia brought Isaac home from school a couple of hours later, and they both ended up in Jackson's room looking for answers. Isaac openly questioned Jackson about why he had left school early, while Lydia didn't ask him about his afternoon verbally but did with her eyes and body language, and undoubtedly would have demanded details if Isaac weren't in the room.

"Enough." Jackson held up his hand, silencing Isaac's pestering. "I had to take care of something personal. You'll find out about it later, but not just yet."

Isaac glared at him, his face a mix of irritation and hurt.

Jackson ignored him for now and glanced at Lydia. "And so will you."

She laughed dryly and nodded, her own face a mix of sympathy and understanding. "Okay, Jackson, when you're ready." She kissed him and squeezed Isaac's arm before heading for the doorway. "See you guys later."

"Bye," Jackson answered, grateful she was willing to drop it.

"Thanks for the ride," Isaac said with a wave. Once she was gone, he turned back to Jackson. "Well, I guess I'll leave you alone too to do your personal stuff."

"Isaac wait."

He hesitated by the door, obviously still annoyed but willing to hear Jackson out.

"I'm not trying to hide anything from you."

Isaac arched his brow. "Oh really? It doesn't seem like that."

"Yeah, I know," he answered. "I'm actually trying to protect you. And do the right thing." He shrugged. "And I dunno, maybe I'm fucking it all up, but I'm trying."

The irritation slowly faded from Isaac's face. "You don't have to protect me."

"Whatever."

"I'd rather know what's going on," he answered, moving back toward Jackson's bed.

"And you will," Jackson answered, "but in the meantime, could you just…trust me and let it go?"

Isaac sat beside Jackson and nodded. "Yeah okay."

Jackson gave him a small smile and a nod of his own. "Good. Now let's knock out our homework so we can get in some game time before dinner."

Homework proved more difficult than Jackson was expecting. He couldn't focus on his own work, much less help Isaac with his assignments. And Isaac clearly noticed too, but didn't say anything. After about an hour and once he'd confirmed neither of them had anything urgent they needed to turn in or be ready for tomorrow, Jackson declared them done for the day and they spent a couple hours gaming before it was time for dinner.

Once downstairs, Jackson cornered his mother while Isaac and his father continued into the dining room.

"Well?"

She gave a nervous laugh and smiled. "Yes, honey?"

Jackson tipped his head to the side and gave her a look that communicated he wasn't amused.

"I'm going to tell them," she whispered, "but after dinner."

He frowned.

"I don't want to ruin everyone's meal," she continued. "Besides, Vicky worked hard on it and she's had a stressful day."

"She's had a stressful day?!"

"Well she has," Jackson's mother answered as she squeezed his arm. "I know you have too, honey, and I" –she sighed– "I don't want you to have to live with this secret longer than necessary. I'm going to tell them."

Jackson was willing to go along with his mother's wish that her revelation wait until after dinner, but that wasn't how things went. Their recent family dinners had been unusually pleasant, but tonight Jackson couldn't help but be moody and somber. Meanwhile his mother, despite her banal chitchat, was obviously tense, and Isaac kept looking around and fidgeting in between shooting Jackson questioning looks. So it was no surprise when halfway through their meal, Jackson's father cleared his throat and put down his fork.

"Alright, what's going on?"

"Nothing, dear, I…" She trailed off as Jackson glared at her.

"I think now's a good time," he mouthed to her, not caring that Isaac and his father could probably figure out what he was saying.

She took a long breath and slowly nodded. "I suppose."

Isaac looked almost scared as he waited for her to continue, while Jackson's father remained still and impassive, his face neutral.

"I…Well I-I've had a setback. With my sobriety."

Isaac flinched and Jackson's father let out a disappointed sigh.

"I've been drinking during the day while none of you are home."

"I knew it." Jackson's father's chair scraped the floor as he backed up from the table and folded his arms.

"I'm sorry," she said to him before turning the same apologetic frown on Jackson. She looked to Isaac last and drew in a ragged breath. "I wanted so much to stop when I said I would. I just…"

"It's a hard habit to break," he said quietly. "I understand."

Jackson's father grunted but his expression softened. "Indeed, it is. I think you need more help than outpatient therapy."

Jackson's mother grimaced. "What are you saying?"

"I think it's time to look into rehab."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but before she could argue, Jackson jumped in.

"I agree." He let the vulnerable sensation he'd felt earlier that afternoon wash over him again as he pleaded with his eyes. "Mom, please go."

"Yeah um." Isaac's voice shook. "That seems like a really good idea."

"Oh." She was silent for a few moments as she stared down at the table. "Well I guess if you're all sure, I don't have any choice."

"You do, Lana," Jackson's father said. "We just hope that you'll make this choice."

Tears trickled down her face as she looked up and nodded. "Okay. I'll go."

-000–

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter, "The Visit," will be the final regular chapter of the story. Then there's just the epilogue to go. My tentative aim is to have Chapter 11 ready for posting in about 4-6 weeks and the epilogue about a week after that. But no promises on that timeline I'm afraid.

And a Happy Easter to anyone/everyone who celebrates it!

As always feedback on this chapter or the story in general is greatly appreciated!