Heeey :D

One thing is for sure: I am never happy about my works, be it written or other type of creative time spending (like painting or drawing - I can be extremely unsure and dark about my own skills). But I've got some extremely nice comments on another site and that pushed me forward a bit and did some searching after that second part of this story. I thought I deleted it then I found it and even if I didn't like it at all, still saw some ideas, so I used that as a base. I am still not 100% happy about the outcome, but hey, I did something xD

Some years passed between ch 1 and ch 2 in the storyline :)

The following things are still true: I am not a native speaker and have no beta reader, sorry for that.

This environment was very unfamiliar to Emmett – almost alien. He felt awkward, but there was no-one around him thank God. He looked around – the building wasn't that grand like the ones he saw from the outside in London. The church in Crawley was definitely nothing compared to the Westminster Abbey, but he never appreciated the fancy stuffs anyway. He never really appreciated the religion either and considering his profession, well…. was it blasphemy to appear in the house of God?

„You are doing this because you still think I am a useless child? Because I don't have anything in me what you could use? Is this the sign of your disappointment?"

He shuddered then made a few tentative steps on that long corridor between the benches, finding a random spot to sit down. Slid into the narrow space, the wood made some loud noise as he sat on it. He looked around – the damn building made him nervous. The whole situation made him nervous. But he had no other idea where he could go.

"You always favoured him, the more talented one and the sadder background story. He was someone you could teach everything you knew and be proud of! Him, instead of me!"

And what now? Should he just…. pray? He didn't know any holy text to say aloud, well expect one mantra, but the "Requiescat at in pace" wasn't the one he was looking after.

God, he hoped it wasn't.

The thought forced some inarticulate noise out from him and he leaned onto the next pew in front of him. Please don't let it happen, please… please…

"I'm so sorry…" he said it half-loud, feelings were already choking him. It cannot be true, it cannot be, no way the last time when he saw his father was in the middle of a very nasty fighting.

"Because of Mother, isn't it?"

The young man took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and let the moment of crying go. He didn't come here to cry he can do that another time. To ease his feelings, he looked up to the huge painting on the wall: it was Christ on the cross with Roman soldiers around him and crying women. A big gash on his left side, bleeding – it was from one of the soldiers' spear, checking if the man was still alive. It was very depressing picture to look at: sadness, death, cruelty and misery only in one painting. It's just creates a bad taste in man's mouth to devour.

Emmett never really understood how religion worked and never really tried to. He was raised to defend the free will of human beings and religion did not appreciate the free will in his opinion. He never-ever thought he will seek help or solace in a church.

But he had no better idea than this.

Looked around once again, just to be sure he was perfectly alone.

"I never went to a church before…. and I never thought it has any use at all. I still don't think it has. But… it cannot hurt to try."

His voice faltered a bit, didn't really know how to continue.

"I have a father. He is the only living relative of mine. Well, I mean, I have an aunt too, but… she lives in India and I never saw her. And probably never will."

Emmett still missed the mother he never knew and never will be. He only had Jacob.

"My father raised me and I think he did his best. He tried his best."

He really did. As far as Emmett could remember he had a quite happy childhood. And even if he still did not understand a lot about the adults' world, now, as a teen he suspects it mustn't be easy for Jacob: being an assassin, the leader of the Rooks and London and dealing with a newborn son and the loss of its mother should be overwhelming. As an almost young adult, Emmett found the world a lot more difficult place to be as it was when he was a kid and the decisions he had to make was far more complicated as well. God, everything was so much better when his most urging question was how his wooden tiger can defeat a whole army of stupid toy soldiers.

"I wasn't the best son lately…"

He wasn't, he really wasn't. Father and son fought a lot and it often ended yelling nasty things at each other and him leaving Jacob behind and avoiding him for days sometimes. And things quickly got worse.

He sighed, felt the now familiar lump back in his throat, but this time Emmett did nothing against it.

"He is in serious danger this time and… and just… please don't let him be hurt… please…. our last conversation cannot be that fight…."

"You blame me because of her. And you found someone better, but he also turned against you. That is your punishment and you deserve all of it!"

When Jacob told him he is about to send Emmett away, the younger Frye snapped at his father and it was catastrophic. Emmett said things he knew he will regret, but he didn't care or he thought he didn't care. He could pretend and be angry at his father.

Until that letter came.

Until Jack caught him and no one saw any trace of Jacob ever since and no-one found anything about him. Abberline even hinted Jacob Frye was dead already.

Tears glistened in his blue eyes and this time he let them fall as the sobbing emerged to the surface.

"I-I'm begging… please… don't let him die, please… I'd do anything if I can have him back. I told horrible things to him and I am the worse son he could ever have, but please don't let Jack kill him… I didn't mean it; I didn't mean any of it…"

If only he could go back in time and undo everything he did and said to Jacob. He would just do differently, he would be more patient and understanding, he would try his best. If only he could have a second chance….

"I love him, I never really hated him, ever…"

Time slowly became meaningless as he just sat there, begging, crying, hoping he will get his father back, even if he is injured, but still alive. But there was a point when he had no more tears to shed, no more words to tell and no more strength to bear the pain. The young man just felt empty and numb, like an overused item what was thrown away.

As he rose wondered if someone or… something even listened to him. Wondered if Jacob will get any help and get back home. If he is still alive.

As he reached the huge and heavy wooden door stopped for a moment, wondered if he had any strength to face with the new day ahead of him. Even if he just lost his father too, the life cruelly goes on, Emmett knew that – barely hit age of 16, but already saw some things on the streets of Whitechapel. He knew life wasn't a fairytale – Jacob made sure about preparing him to the reality. But this, all this, Jack and his cruelty, his hatred toward Jacob was too much reality.

And Emmett didn't feel prepared to this.

Hey, you've made it! :D God I just love this kid, so why not TORTURE HIM A BIT.

Kids can be difficult sometimes and even if Emmett has a nice nature, he is still a human: he argues with Jacob a lot, because that is what teens do (Hmmmm... I don't really remember about my teenage-time, well yes there was lots of arguments because I was lazy. Oh wait, I am still lazy xD) And in the same time he feels extremely jealous because of Jack and how he seems to be better than Emmett in things but mostly how deeply Jack bonds with Jacob - and Emmett feels threatened. That's why he told Jacob all those things in their last fight right before Emmett had no choice but do as daddy said and leave London. Teens, hormones... this can be an extremely difficult age for them and Emmett is not an exception. (And also add the fact he needs to step out of daddy's shadow as well. Plus the protect the humans and kill the bad guys business.)