Chapter Three: Until We Meet Again

Author's note: I did a bit of checking around and if Dean's mother and stepfather were ever named in the series, I can't find it. Now, admittedly, I have not memorized every last episode, so I could be wrong. If anyone can find (and cite) an episode where Dean's mother (and/or stepfather) is named, I'll come back and change her (his) name, but, for right now, I get to name her.

At first, Dean tried to insist that he could take the bus, but Greg refused to let his son leave alone; he argued that Catherine likely already knew that Dean had come to see him, so trying to hide that fact was meaningless. Not to mention that Catherine would not be impressed if he let their son trek back to his aunt's house alone.

So Greg overruled his son's protests and shepherded all three children downstairs and into his car. Lance and Alanna took the opening to start telling Dean all about Team One and their families, though any family issues were skipped over; Greg noted a slightly guilty expression when they mentioned Wordy…Dean didn't seem to notice anything. Greg interrupted long enough to confirm his former sister-in-law's address, then let the three teens talk as he navigated through the darkening streets.

They arrived at a home much like Eddie's, a two-story house in a quiet neighborhood, with lawns and the proverbial white picket fences and plenty for kids to do. Greg pulled into the driveway and got out, feeling a bit of a pang for the days when a place like this had been home to him and his family. But those days were long behind him and he was just grateful for the second chances he'd been given. Dean clambered out of the front seat as his two cousins tumbled out of the back seat.

For a moment, father and son faced each other across the car's roof, then Dean offered Greg a genuine smile. "It-it was nice to see you again," the teen remarked, awkward all over again.

Greg smiled back and quickly rounded the front of his car to pull Dean into another hug, real and tight. After several seconds, the SRU Sergeant pulled back, tears in his eyes. He was opening his mouth to reply when his ex-wife appeared, racing out of the house's front door and darting across the lawn to her son. Dean was all but snatched away from Greg as she pulled him away, drawing low, but furious hisses from Greg's nipotes.

"What are you doing with my son?" Catherine spat at her ex-husband, positioning herself between Dean and his father.

"Mom, it's okay," Dean protested, "He was just bringing me back, that's all." The teenager tried to move past his mother, but she blocked his path. "Mom, I'm just getting something out of the car," Dean objected.

"You don't need anything of his," Catherine replied, her stare on her ex-husband and sparks flying out of light brown eyes. She was slender, compared to both her son and ex-husband, with long dark brown hair that was caught up in a ponytail, and petite, pert features. Movement drew her gaze to the side and she almost gaped at the two teens glaring at her from their spot next to the open back door. "What's this?" she demanded, swinging back to Greg, "Your new family?"

It was clear what her assumption was, but Greg didn't get a chance to defend himself; Dean did it for him. An exasperated, "Mom!" came from the teen. "They're my cousins: Lance and Alanna. They moved here a few years ago; they live with Da…uh…Greg."

Silence hung as Catherine looked between her ex-husband and the two kids, eyes wide. Lance rolled his eyes and walked to the front seat, grabbing the chest Greg had given his son out of the seat and quite deliberately going over to Dean with it. When Catherine shifted to intercept him, Lance drew back. "It's Dean's," the young man informed her hotly.

Catherine's eyes narrowed. "My son doesn't need anything from his father…he has everything he needs from his stepfather." She looked at Greg, sparks still flying from her eyes. "Dean's going to take his stepfather's name."

"So he told me," Greg replied, his 'negotiator' mask firmly in place. "Dean showed up this afternoon at my job to ask me to drop the lawsuit. I had a call out before we could finish our discussion and I asked Dean to wait until I came back. So if you need someone to blame for Dean getting back late, blame me."

"Oh, believe me, I will," Catherine hissed. She tilted her head at Lance and Alanna. "Who was stupid enough to give you two more kids to ruin?"

It was very, very fortunate that neither Dean nor his mother were looking at the kids at that split second: two pairs of eyes glowed as the teens registered the insult to both their parents and their uncle. Greg cleared his throat loudly and very deliberately gave them the signal to stand down…just as he'd do with his team. It took several seconds, but they obeyed, though they stayed alert and unhappy. Dean arched a brow at the hand signals, his expression curious, but Catherine just shook her head.

"As a matter of fact," Greg replied calmly, "My cousin, Arthur Calvin, designated me as the children's guardian in the event of his and his wife's deaths. They died three years ago; the children were brought to Toronto two days afterwards." As he finished, he gave Catherine a hard look: she could insult him all she liked, he deserved it, but she did not get to insult two people she'd never even met.

Catherine stepped closer, her eyes going even harder. "You aren't fit to raise so much as a rat, much less two orphaned children."

"Take that back!" Alanna shrieked, "Uncle Greg's been the best guardian we could have ever hoped for…he's taken care of us, no matter what."

"Mom, stop," Dean pleaded, "Dad's different, he's changed. He saved a little girl's life today and I didn't see so much as a drop of alcohol in his apartment." At his father's startled expression, Dean shrugged. "I looked."

Catherine was caught off guard, but not for long; she rounded on Greg, hissing, "Never come near my son again!"

Greg met her gaze squarely. "That's up to Dean," he replied calmly. "If Dean still wants me to drop the lawsuit, I will…if he wants me to, Catherine," he added as she made to interrupt. "Otherwise, I believe this is Dean's choice now…or it soon will be. If our son wants to see me, I'm not going to say 'no'." Greg looked at his son, hope shining, then he shifted back to Catherine. "All those years, I wasted them," he remarked, his voice flat, "I was so busy with my own problems that I forgot about my family. That's my fault…that's my fault…and I don't blame you for leaving and moving on, Catherine. I deserved it." He paused, watching his son and his nipotes. "I didn't deserve a second chance, but I got one anyway," he admitted quietly. "If our son chooses to give me a second chance, I'll grab onto it with both hands, but it's his choice. Not yours and not mine…his."

The former Mrs. Parker looked between her ex-husband and her son, deflating at her son's pleading expression. Ignoring everyone else, she stepped close to her son, looking him in the eye. "Dean, are you sure?" she asked, "All you have to do is say the words and you never have to see him again. You have a new father, a new dad, who's never going to do to you what he did."

Dean licked his lips, but broke away from his mother's gaze. "Did you know he wrote me?" the teen asked suddenly. He hefted the chest that Lance had snuck into his grip while his parents faced off. "All of 'em were sent back."

Catherine scowled. "Yes, I know. I sent them back…we didn't need anything of his."

Hurt shone in Dean's eyes, matched by the hurt in Greg's. "I-I…I'm going to give him another chance, Mom. If worst comes to worst, all I have to do is wait until I turn eighteen."

Father and son looked at each other; Catherine had withdrawn to a safe distance as they farewelled each other. "I'll…umm…I'll see about coming back once the school year's over," Dean offered.

"That sounds good," Greg returned, quirking a little smile. "You, uh, you gonna fly?"

Dean blinked at that; in the background, Lance snickered. A wry, "Guess that's one thing he didn't inherit," floated over to the two; Greg flushed bright red as Dean understood in his own turn and laughed.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed, still chuckling, "I'll fly up." Silence fell, but, for once all day, not awkward. The young man extended his hand, as he had at the station, "It was really nice to see you, Dad."

Greg forced himself to merely shake hands with his son. "Likewise, son. I'll keep writing, keep you up on the antics," he tilted his head at his nipotes, "those two pull."

Dean grinned. "Sounds good," he confirmed, eyes lighting up. "Just, uh, don't forget to tell me about what you're up to, too."

"Copy that," Greg agreed; his smile so wide that any wider was quite impossible. He stepped back, releasing his son's hand. "Safe trip."

Dean paused next to his mother, still hefting the chest. "Until we meet again," he called back.

Greg felt two arms wrap around his waist and Alanna leaned her head against his chest. "We'll see him again," the violet-eyed witch remarked.

"I hope so," Greg murmured, watching his son as long as he could.

"We will," Lance, soft, but confident, "It might not be for a while, but he'll come back."

Greg's brows hiked and, looking down, he noticed his nephew's eyes were glinting gold. A shiver went up his back, a memory tingling in the back of his mind, but it didn't surface. As the trio headed back to his car and turned towards home, Greg focused on the road, pushing his lingering questions aside for now. He'd gotten to see his son again…and he had a second chance with his son…more than he'd even dared dream of.

"So," he drawled, "Who's up for a few games of Clue when we get home?"

~ Fin

Author note: *curtain sweeps closed* I hope you enjoyed...please, please read and review. I'm at the end of my first week in a new job/coding boot camp and I'm very, very, very overwhelmed. If I can't keep up, I lose the job, so, yeah...no pressure. I'm actually stealing valuable shut-eye to get this proofed the night before posting.

Reviews would be nice. Prayers would be even nicer - I can use every last whisper of help right now. I will try to get the first chapter of our next story "Defying the Odds" up right here in the main Flashpoint archive on Tuesday, March 6th, 2018, but I cannot promise. Unless I wash out...in which case, I will need something to console myself with and I'll probably post the whole darn story in an effort to get sympathy.

So, in closing, if you like any of my work, please, pray for me. If this new job works out, I'll be way ahead of where I am now. If not, well, I'll need even more prayer.