So, you get two chapters one after the other, seeing as I got a little muse in my head for this one. Carter's journey is going to be a long, slow, uphill battle and this is just the beginning of it. I'm back at work tonight so I don't know when I'll update next. But, enjoy this one!

"So, tell me what happened, again?" Paul asked, exasperated. He could not fathom what Stephanie was trying to tell him.

"How many times do I have to say this, Paul?" Stephanie asked, turning to look at him. She was in the process of making a late lunch for the girls. Her head was pounding, she hadn't had any sleep and she still had to take part in a corporate conference call at six.

And to top it all off, she was fielding questions left, right and center from her husband - questions which he already knew the answers to.

"Just tell me again, Steph. I can't...I don't...I don't get it," he sighed. He leaned back in one of the high backed stools that framed one of the islands in the kitchen and ran a hand over his face.

"Maybe, you should be asking Carter these questions," Stephanie said, gently. "I'm more than sure that she knows the answers to what you're asking better than I do."

Reaching out, Stephanie placed a hand on his arm, trying to comfort him somehow. She knew that what she was offering couldn't help him but until Carter was ready to talk, it was all she could give. Paul touched his wife's hand, taking the gesture of comfort from her and letting her know that he appreciated it.

"Girls, lunch is ready," Stephanie hollered. Three sets of feet thumped towards them, coming from the direction of the garden. The large bi-fold French doors were open, allowing the cool afternoon breeze to circulate through the house. Paul watched as Stephanie helped their youngest into one of the stools, placing their lunch down in front of the three of them. He smiled at his family - but it was bittersweet, as all he could think about was his other daughter; the one who up until last night, he hadn't seen since she was 14 years old, the one who now lay sleeping upstairs.

Stephanie looked up with a smile on her face but Paul realised she was looking over his shoulder.

"Carter!" she beamed. "It's good to see you awake. Come in," she invited his daughter into the kitchen. Paul swivelled on his stool, looking around at his other daughter. Carter stood by the kitchen doorway, her shoulder braced against the frame. She nervously tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, looking down at her feet.

"I don't want to intrude. I'm just looking for some coffee."

"I can make you some," Paul offered. "How do you take it?" he stood from the stool, moving around the island to the coffee machine that was perched on one of the other counters.

"Black, three sugars," Carter replied, turning to brace her back against the wall now. Both Paul and Stephanie let out a low chuckle and Carter's sunk her teeth into her bottom lip nervously. "What?" she asked, confused.

"Nothing," Stephanie insisted. "It's just, that's the way your Dad takes his coffee."

"Oh!" Carter exclaimed. "I guess we have something in common at least," she shrugged.

Looking down at her nails, Carter missed the worried exchange of expressions between her father and Stephanie.

"Mama," the voice of their youngest broke the silence that had developed in the room. "Mama, who's the lady?" she asked, her childlike voice muffling the words slightly.

"Vaughn, she's a friend of Mommy and Daddy," their oldest daughter answered for everyone. "Duh! She said so last night."

"Don't say that word, Aurora," Stephanie admonished. "Or speak to your sister like that. It's rude."

"But, Mom, it's rude to ask questions about someone when they are right there," Aurora replied, pointing to Carter and rolling her eyes.

"And it's also rude to point, young lady," Paul added, raising an eyebrow at Aurora as he moved through the kitchen. He reached out, handing Carter a white porcelain cup filled with hot coffee.

"But, Dad-"

"But, nothing, Aurora! You need to remember that you are..."

"I'll be outside," Carter whispered amongst the flurry of voices that were speaking in the kitchen. She moved past the family of five and headed for the large open garden doors, stepping outside onto the patio.

The sun was out but was quite low in the sky for time of day. Padding across the patio, Carter took a seat on the cream chaise lounger that was at one end. Putting her coffee down on the small table next to her, Carter fished a packet of cigarettes from her pocket.

She knew it was a bad habit; one that she really ought to break. However, when she was stressed out, she automatically reached for tobacco. Folding her legs underneath her, Carter winced as the already tight pyjama bottoms that she wore tightened around her even more. Stephanie had loaned her some sleepwear - and whilst Carter was very proud of her figure, she wasn't as tall and slender as step mother, thus making the pyjamas slightly too small.

Sparking up, Carter took a pull from the cigarette, allowing the nicotine to flood through her system. She raked a hand through her hair before reaching for her coffee, taking a sip of the steaming hot liquid and letting out a blissful sigh. Her father did make a really good cup of coffee.

Speak of the devil, Carter thought as she clocked him making his way towards her. He stepped up onto the patio next to her, taking a seat on the garden swing that matched the lounger Carter was sitting upon.

Carter took another draw of her cigarette and continued to look out on the large garden. She puffed out a ring of smoke and then expressed a sigh.

"I'm guessing that you want to talk. That's why you're out here, right?"

"I'm out here to make sure that you're okay. You seemed a little disconcerted back there," he gestured to the kitchen, where he could still see Stephanie and their three daughters.

Looking towards the kitchen, the blonde clocked 'her family' inside, laughing and joking.

"Family is a rough topic for me," Carter shrugged, laying back on the lounger. She took another puff of her cigarette before stubbing it out and putting the half that was left back into the packet.

"Carter, I-"

"I'm sure Stephanie had filled you in on all the gory details from last night?" she arched as eyebrow at her father. He nodded. "I expected none-the-less," she rolled her eyes.

"Steph is just trying to help, sweetheart," Paul tried, reaching a hand out towards Carter.

Ducking out of the way, Carter stood up off of the lounger. She folded her arms across her chest and moved off of the patio, stepping bare foot onto the cool grass. Paul pulled his hand back, trying to mask the hurt he felt as his daughter moved out of his reach.

"Helping me would be letting me go home," Carter whispered, half hoping that he would hear her and half hoping he wouldn't.

"Where is home?"

She cursed under her breath when he asked, letting her know that he had heard her.

"New York. I-I stay with a couple of friends," Carter turned around to look at him. "I need to get back," she added, her eyes pleading with him.

"What about...about your mother? What about Danielle?" he asked.

Carter felt like she had been punched in the gut. She didn't like to talk about her mother - it was a very raw, sore topic with her.

"She died," Carter gritted out, looking at him as if he should have known not to bring her up. "She died when I was 17."

"I-I-I-" Paul ran a hand over his shorn hair. "What happened?" he asked, trying to process how his daughter - his little girl - could have been alone all this time and he hadn't known anything about it.

"Cancer," Carter replied. She got out her cigarettes again and lit up the other half of the one she had previously smoked. She was trembling, could barely hold the lighter still as she tried to spark the flint. Inhaling deeply, as she finally got it to light, the nicotine settled into her system and she let out a sigh, feeling her nerves begin to calm down. "I think it was cancer of the liver, if I remember rightly. But then, she always did like to drink, didn't she?"

Carter began to pace on the grass, puffing from the rest of the cigarette until it was finished, after which, she promptly lit up another. Paul narrowed his eyes slightly, making a mental note to try and put a stop to the smoking.

"I'm not sad, you know," Carter continued. "She's better off. My life has been so much better without her in it. But, what I don't need, is for you to suddenly pretend that what happens to me matters somehow," she forced out, emotion lining her words. She could feel herself tearing up and that was the last thing she wanted.

Paul stood up and immediately moved towards Carter. He reached out, placing his hands on her arms.

"You have always mattered to me, sweetheart. I have never stopped thinking about you or what happened to you or your mother. I have never-

"Then why the hell haven't I seen you in 12 fucking years?!" Carter demanded, wrenching herself from her grip. "You've been up here in Greenwich or Weston or wherever the fuck we are, making babies with your wife, living your happy little life. Are you going to seriously tell me that you've not stopped worrying about me all this time? Because, I will call you a liar! You are a damn liar!" she pointed her finger at him, unable to stop her outburst.

"That's enough! Your sisters are in there and they can hear every word that you are saying. Is this really the way you want them to remember you?" Paul asked, pointing towards the kitchen and the four faces who were now watching them.

"Remember me? They don't even know who I am!" she cried out, trying to force back the tears.

Paul took a step back, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him.

"You dumped me on her doorstep and you never looked back," Carter raged. "I was just a blip in your rear-view mirror as you raced off to make another family without thinking twice about me. Don't pretend that it's not true, don't butter me up with your stupid words and make me feel like I meant something to you. I am nothing but a horrible mistake that you made."

A wave of hurt stabbed Paul in the gut and he stumbled back from his daughter.

Stubbing out her cigarette, Carter turned on her heel and made a beeline for the house, fully intent on getting out of there.

"Carter! Carter come back, please," Paul shouted after her, his voice breaking. "Carter Levesque, get back here!" he tried again.

Carter skidded to a stop at the doors to the house, head down, not looking at Stephanie or the girls for fear of what she would see reflected in their eyes.

Turning around, she looked at her father.

"It's O'Brien," Carter corrected him. "My name is Carter O'Brien," she clarified. "Remember, you took your name away the day you left me behind."