In response to the doorbell my mother firmly kept her finger on, mumbling was heard through the door, an angry voice.

"Two in the… who in God's name could be… I swear if this is a prank, I'll—"

The door swung open, and an exhausted looking man dropped his jaw as his gaze centered on my mom.

"Janet Marion?!"

My mother softened and smiled at him. "Vlad Masters… always a pleasure. May I come in?"

He seemed shocked, standing still for a moment before what she said dawned on him. "Oh! Of course, my dear, come in. You and your… entourage… are welcome." He opened the door and led us into the largest kitchen I had ever seen. Green and gold décor was everywhere, albeit tastefully done. Stainless steel and marble countertops set on mahogany counters. He pulled out a chair and my mother slowly sat as nervousness permeated the air around us.

Vlad glanced at her and then at us, and cleared his throat, gently laying a hand on Mom's shoulder.

"Janet, of course I'm glad to see you after all these years, but to what do I owe this… very early… visit?"

My mother grimaced and then sighed, glancing at her hand. Her eyes wandered to me, then flitted to Vlad and spoke quietly.

"Do you know what Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease is, Vlad?"

"I can't pronounce it; much less know about it, Janie." The worry tinged his voice, and my mother slumped a bit before answering.

"It's a brain disease I have recently been diagnosed with. It's a fatal disease, Vladimir."

All the air came out of Vl— out of my father's lungs, and he almost fell into the second bar stool, grasping my mother's hand.

"What do you need? Money? If so, it's at your disposal, anything you need."

"Do you remember when we lived together, the connection we shared?"

"You mean before you married that bastard? Yes… though I don't know it's something I would bring up in front of your kids." He smirked, but it somehow had a soft feel to it.

My mom threw out her hand to me, and I saw how it trembled. Another onset of her disease.

"That's your son. I found out about him a week after Ray and I married; I was six weeks pregnant. I need you to take care of him and my daughter, Vlad."

The silence was deafening. I had never understood that expression, but now… holy god. Oh gods, how I understood it. Vlad stared at my mother, and then stumbled from his chair, standing in front of me for a few moments, seeming to size me up. He was tall, taller than me and my 5'8" frame. Reaching out, his thin hand grasped my face and he turned my face, studying me. I fought a scowl, and then he looked into my eyes…his eyes.

He backed away instantly, turned to Mom.

"What the hell were you thinking? Why didn't you tell me? Why spring this on me now, when the boy is almost grown?"

Mom groaned, and put her head in her hands. "Your business took off the year he was born. I didn't want him to… I wanted you to be able to live your life. I was married, we were well off. There was no reason to say anything. I assumed you'd likely marry and have a few kids, and I didn't want this to impact that."

His voice was cool, and he held up his ring less hand. "As you can see, I am quite detached, and have been for nearly twenty years."

She flinched and spoke again, looking at her wedding ring, toying with it and finally setting it on the table with a small plink.

"As far as I'm concerned, so am I. Ray is not suitable to raise these kids, and they need a parent… no. They need a father."

"Which you expect me to be." It was a statement, not a question… oh look, something we have in common. Mom snorted, turned her gaze on him.

"You certainly have the funds for it. Don't tell me you refuse to step in now that they need you!"

"Now that it is convenient for you to tell me of a pregnancy that was seventeen years ago, you mean? Janet, I won't dispute the fact he's my son. That's not what this is about. He has the Master's frame, and the Master eyes. This is about the fact you waited basically all of his young life to tell me I had a child, and I assume, to tell him who his father was! I could have been providing for you both, you could have been living here."

The pain thinned his voice and Mom sighed, standing and looked like she was trying to be angry but was too tired.

"I was afraid. I guess that's all I can say. I was scared of your reaction. Funny, through the years I never expected it to be that you're insulted. I don't really care that you are, and I guess I should say I want to fix it but I honestly just don't care. My disease gives me a year, at absolute best. I need them both taken care of, and my husband isn't fit. Please, Vladimir, please…"

His voice sharpened, eyes flashing. "Don't call me that. Only friends have the gall to call me that, and you are no friend. You DARE to come into my home at this hellish hour, spring this on me and throw two kids on me, and expect me to be responsible for them?! No friend does that."

He swiveled, pushing past me and stomping up the stairs. I didn't blame Vlad, but I knew his words had to destroy mom. I glanced to my mother and saw that she had gone drastically pale, and she slumped , elbows on the table. Massaging her temples, she looked at me with tears trickling down her face. She didn't speak, but I could hear her thoughts clear as day.

What do we do now?

She stood shakily, and made her way towards me. "Let's go, honey. I…"

"Janet. Wait."

In the doorway he stood, looking fairly apologetic and he stepped forward and then sighed, running his hand through his stark white hair.

"I'm sorry. This was just such a shock. Janie… I'm sorry. Don't… oh, butter-biscuits." Vlad leaned against the wall, dark lines under his eyes.

"Don't go. None of you. Janet, I'll take them. Of course I will. I wouldn't throw them out if you were healthy, much less in your condition. He's my son. And the little girl, she looks so much like you. I'm not that cruel. I just… it's going to take some time adjusting. For all of us, I'm sure."

Stepping forward again, he held his hand out to me, a small unsure smile on his face.

"Well, what's your name?"

I shifted slightly, Emilie still in my arms. Sticking my hand into his, I spoke.

"Dashiel Jacobs, sir."

He nodded, eyes sliding to my mother briefly, and then returned to me, and there was a level of seriousness in his eyes that startled me. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I don't expect you to start off calling me dad; I know that will probably take a while. So, if it makes you more comfortable, you can call me Vlad, or Mister Masters, whatever you like."

He turned to my mother, and moved towards her. Those piercing eyes softened a bit, and he smiled even more. "Have you all eaten? And where are your bags?"

"No, we haven't eaten since breakfast in Illinois. Our bags are in the car, but we didn't bring much."

Vlad nodded, and turned to me. "Would you like some help getting your things out? Normally, I would send my servants to attend to it, but they've departed for the evening."

My mouth dropped, and I stuttered as I handed Emilie off to mom. "We… you have servants?!" It made sense, of course, but I had never imagined such a thing.

He grinned, and I saw we shared the same smile.

"Of course. Not very many, only a few maids and a butler, driver, and a chef, so I'm not too overcrowded, but I do have servants." He moved to the door as Mom tossed me the keys.

Getting the luggage, not much was said and then I leaned against the car. "Thanks, Vlad. For letting us… you know."

He nodded, unanimously agreeing to not bring up the elephants in the room, and grabbed way too much luggage. I raised a brow but let him carry it in; if he wanted to break his back, it was his choice.

It was at least an hour later that I stood in the huge room the Vlad presented to me. He put down my share of the luggage, a small smile on his face.

"Not what you're used to, boy?"

I shook my head, eyeing the mahogany bed frame and exquisite detail on the matching dresser and wardrobe. Despite the room being a mixture of soft blues and dark browns, it had a very manly feel to it. The bed, big enough to fix seven of me, was covered in a silver duvet with soft blue trim, and it was softer than Emilie's skin. It was amazing.

Vlad nodded towards a door. "There's your bathroom. You'll find it suitable, I hope…"

The awkward silence stretched and I turned as I heard Emilie whine somewhere behind us, likely in the long hallway behind us. I stepped towards my father and then my gaze turned past him, and he turned and followed it. I never realized how fast somebody could move until she wilted in front of us.

"Janie!" Vlad cried, lunging towards my mother as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she started to collapse with Emilie in her arms. He grabbed her, lifting her up with a small grunt, and jostling Emilie enough my sister started crying full volume. I grabbed her, while Vlad took the liberty of swooping my mother up bridle style and carrying her to an adjacent bedroom, finally setting her on the bed and seamlessly covering her with the duvet. He sent a worried glance at her before softly walking out, and then he turned to me, his voice a soft whisper.

"Should I call a doctor?"

I shook my head, rocking Emilie back and forth in my arms and trying to quiet her. "Nothing can be done. She does this sometimes. She'll likely wake up soon. I—"

A yawn interrupted me, and then I continued, slightly embarrassed. "I normally wait up for her."

He blinked, and then shook, taking my sister from me. "No, you need your rest. I will watch over her, and find a bed for the little one. Go on, Dashiel."

I jerked. Nobody ever called me by my full name unless they wanted pummeled. But there was a way he said it that sounded like it meant everything.

Ignoring it, or rather saving it for later, I nodded and headed to bed for a much needed rest.

A/N::

There we go!

If Vlad seemed OOC, remember as Janet Baxters said, they were old friends. If one of my old friends showed up with this news, I think I would mostly be hurt ad upset, and jealous of all the time I missed out on. Vlad isn't angry wit Janet; rather, he's hurt that she wouldn't have come to him. He was already infatuated with Maddie Fenton before the accident, but it turned into a ghostly obsession sometime later. It's kinda like "wow i could've found a happy ending with you instead of this pining" thing going on in his mind.