Samsonlove- Thank you for the compliment, but I found that the moment where Sonny and Ric hugged a few weeks ago was very, very impacting. I was so happy that they hugged. Of course, it was later made null in void because Sonny is a stubborn, stubborn bastard, but in that moment I felt all good. When Carly finds out the truth she's going to be very confused and she's going to feel betrayed by her family for keeping the knowledge from her. As for Damian forgiving Maxie… he could be like his father in that way, or it could be something that he'll forgive her quicker for. You never know, I don't even know. Well, I kind of do, but yeah.

Story-

Quartermaine Mansion, Exterior-

Why was he doing it? Why was he standing in front of the mansion again? True, he had been there more times than he would care to admit since he had moved out, but each and every time it was the same feeling that ran through his body: Dillon tended to end up looking for the nearest exit. Indeed, the teenager was feeling that type of energy, but, because of the fact that someone that he cared about very much was inside of the mansion, he knew that he would have to go inside, for her.

At first, he thought about knocking on the door, but then he remembered that Jason never did. Granted, Dillon didn't have the same kind of status as Jason did, Dillon was never considered the Golden Boy, or the Quartermaine's worst loss. No, there were many times when Dillon believed himself to be considered their worst mistake. Unfair, yes, but nonetheless true. But, he wasn't going to let himself be treated like a second class citizen in the world of the rich and powerful anymore. He was going inside to see how Brook was doing, and if she was going to school, and nothing was going to stop him. Right? He placed his hand on the knob of the door and wondered for another second. Right!

Opening the door, he looked into the sitting room, the place where he had been many times. He saw the chair that he often found himself sitting in and trying to look like he wanted to be there. It was a task that he failed miserably at many times in the past, and, if he were to do it again, he was almost certain that once more a failure would amass from the attempt. Dillon looked over towards the bookcase, seeing all the trinkets that had been acquired throughout the years, and the pictures. Lila's picture.

The smell of food was easy to detect, with the buffet that almost always accompanied the morning to his right. He wasn't very hungry, although he did miss the food that cook could prepare. Courtney, bless her soul, was good at many things, but cooking wasn't really one of them. Sadly, she had not inherited that particular skill from either her father or her half-brother. Dillon had tasted only a few things that Sonny had prepared, but there was something special about them… they were like a small slice of heaven.

"Alice, is that you?" Tracy's voice was heard as she headed towards the room. "I thought I told you that I didn't want you coming back in until everything outside was taken care of, and I know that you might be an Amazon, but you certainly aren't able to work that…" Tracy walked into the room and saw her son, who seemed to be backing away towards the door. "Dillon?"

"This is all just a dream, a dream," Dillon started to move his fingers and make eerie sounds in order to persuade Tracy into believing that he was telling the truth, that he wasn't there, that it was all in her head. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with his mother. "You'll wake up, alone, like always, and you won't remember a thing…"

"Don't be silly, darling, I happen to have a very good grasp on reality."

"Maybe your own twisted sense of it," Dillon dryly countered. Tracy may have been his mother, but he wasn't going to stand there and take her unique brand of abuse anymore, the kind of abuse that didn't seem all that horrible to other people, but to him, and to the people around him who suffered because of her ways, it was a horrible fate to be assigned to.

"Despite your comments, I'm still going to let you move back into the mansion, because it's your home." Tracy grabbed his hand gently. "That's why you came back, right? You finally realized that your brain dead cousin was not going to nurture you the same way that I could… you've decided to come back into the fold?"

Dillon pulled his hand away, feeling like there was some sort of creeping force that threatened to swallow his individuality whole. It was a feeling that he tended to feel whenever he was dealing with his mother. Something about her just seemed to be so threatening and imposing. Truly, it was the stuff of nightmares. "I didn't come back to be with you, mom, and I'm not leaving Jason and Courtney, I'm not leaving the life I have now… I like it there."

"Don't you realize how dangerous it is, Dillon?" Tracy asked with a sigh. "I don't want to be the person that has to go and identify your body because of the fact that you're connected with the resident hitman to the mob boss. Don't you realize that I love you too much to see you buried before me?" That statement was entirely true, not laced with any sort of secondary meaning or alternative motive. People could say what they wanted to say about Tracy Quartermaine, but if anyone tried to tell her that she didn't love her children as much as she possibly could then she would make sure that they found out just what kind of person she could be. Her brand of love may have been a little different from everyone else, but it was still a type of love.

"Is Brook here?"

"We're not done with this discussion, young man. I'm only trying to protect you from something that you're too blind to see. Why can't you believe me?"

"Because, mother, I've dealt with you and your ways before, I happen to know the way that you work better than you think I do. I know when you're being genuine, and I know when you're not. You could be acting in my best interest right now, I think you are, and I even thank you for that, but it doesn't matter, I'm not leaving where I'm at. I'm here to make sure that my niece is recovering from her ordeal as well as she can be expected to. Unlike you, I know what my role as a member of this family is…"

"I could pull you away from them, you know. I'm still your mother, you're still a minor. I never gave Jason or Courtney any sort of rights that would allow them to take you into their house. I never signed over any possible papers that would need to be assigned…"

"No, you just said that you understood what I needed, remember? You tried to get me to come back, you realized how much you screwed up, and you said that you would let me do what I thought was right. If you pull a stunt like that, mom, if you try and pull me away from people who care about me, from people who accept me, even though I have a few quirks in my personality, even if I might get on their nerves from time to time… then I'll never forgive you."

Tracy was stunned. To think, her easily manipulated son was starting to develop something akin to a backbone. The thought should have made her happier than it really did, because she realized that as soon as Dillon truly asserted his independence he would be gone from her. He was getting one step closer to pushing her away completely, and that was not something that he wanted to deal with.

"I'm going to ask you again, mom. Where is Brook Lynn?"

"How should I know?"

"She's your granddaughter, and she lives in this house. Why wouldn't you know where she is?"

"Because she doesn't talk to me."

"Have you made an effort to try and talk to her?" Dillon asked, watching as Tracy turned her eyes away, so that he wouldn't see the guilt in them, but he didn't need to see anything in order to know that it was there. "That's what I thought. I know that you're relatively new to this whole being a grandmother thing, but you saw the way that your own mother acted around her grandchildren… why don't you try and act a little more like Lila?"

"Don't you think I want to act more like Lila, Dillon?" Tracy asked, finally hurt beyond words. "Don't you think that, if I could, I would find a way to perfectly emulate everything that my mother stood for? Every action that I would take would be in the perfect mold of what Lila Quartermaine managed to accomplish. But it's impossible, Dillon. I can't do it!" Rare was it when she admitted that there was something that she couldn't do. Tracy loved to be able to say that she could do anything, it made her feel better about herself, made her ego stay in tip-top condition.

Dillon saw something in his mother that he rarely saw, if ever. He had seen it once before, when they were in Europe and Tracy attempted to send Edward a watch for a birthday or fathers day present, one of the two. She was so happy, thinking that it would make her daddy ever so pleased to have it. And then he remembered the way that she looked when the box came back, unopened, as if Edward didn't even care. That was the way that Tracy looked at that moment, and, in that very instant, Dillon felt bad for his own mother.

Upstairs, Brook was completely unaware of what was happening. She hadn't been crying anymore, although her heart was still consumed with the underlying feelings of sadness and doubt. She wanted to stay with her mother, but Lois insisted upon her coming back to the mansion. Why? Lois wasn't really descriptive on the why, but she rarely was. It tended to just be something along the lines of 'because I'm your mother, that's why.' An excuse that Brook used to hate, and even though she didn't particularly enjoy being treated like a child she would cope.

The door to her room opened and she expected it to be her father. But, when she looked in the mirror to see who it was it ended up not being her father at all. "Grandfather?"

Edward nodded slowly, "Can I come in?"

"Of course you can, this is your house," Brook smiled softly. She had been at the mansion for some time, but she didn't really feel connected with any of the people, not even her father on some level. The only one that she felt particularly close to was Dillon, and if that was because of the age or something else she wasn't completely sure.

"I wanted to talk with you yesterday, but you were gone for most of the day…"

"I'm sorry, I had a lot of things on my mind."

"Don't apologize," Edward replied. "We all know what you've been going through. Maybe not the exact specifics of your experiences, but, on the whole we understand…"

"I'm not sure I believe that…"

"Brook, listen to me. I'm an old man… I don't like to admit that, but I am. I've suffered great loss in my life… I just recently did again, when I lost Lila. But, I've also had great moments of joy… one of those was when I saw you come into the house on Christmas Eve with your mother. Lila always regretted the fact that she never got to see you after your mother took you away. The pictures that Ned would give her were enough to make her smile and comment about how beautiful you were, but it really wasn't enough for her… I'll admit, I wasn't nearly as distraught over your absence as my wife…"

"Gee, thanks…"

"No, don't take it as an insult. Lila was just… she was something else entirely. Nobody could ever hope to be like my wife, no matter how hard they try. Emily is attempting to fill in as much as possible, but she's too busy running around with her boyfriend to really be of use to any of us… and my daughter… well, you know how Tracy is."

"Yeah, I do…"

"Lila always loved Tracy, but nobody would be able to tell her that there was even the slightest chance that Tracy would ever be able to replace Lila in any way, shape, or form. It seemed like Lila's sainthood skipped a generation… or, in this case, two."

"What… what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that when I think about you, I see my wife. I see her spirit inside of you. I see what you have gotten from your great-grandmother, and it touches me on levels that I never thought would touch me again."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I hate to see you miserable, Brook. I know what happened to your mother was a horrible, horrible thing, and we all wish that it didn't happen, but you're dwelling on it too much. Lois is fine, she's going to be all right…"

"We don't know that."

"You're right, we don't, but as far as we can tell she's going to survive and she's going to be with us for a long time."

"It's more than that, Grandfather," Brook remarked sadly. "This was the first time that I ever had to admit to myself that there was going to be a time, I don't know when, but there will be, when I don't have my mother at my side. There's going to be a time when I'm really alone… and I'm not ready to accept that, or deal with it."

"The only thing you can do is keep on going. Look at me… I lost the person who I love more than life itself, and there are days when I think that I won't be able to get up in the morning, but I find myself getting up anyway. Life doesn't end because of one event, no matter how crushing the blow might be. Lila would want me to keep on going and living my life, trying to be as happy as I can be without the best thing that's ever happened to me. It hurts, a lot… but I keep on going."

"It's easier for you."

"My dear… there are very few things in life that are easier for me to do than they are for you. One of them involves sleeping, and there are others that I won't talk about because doing so would be crass and rude, but surviving something like this? No… you are much better suited for it than I."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you're a fighter, Brook. Like I said, you have Lila's spirit inside of you, I can see it. I can see some small part of your great-grandmother inside of you, and the part that I see inside of you is the best part of her. Cherish that part of her, Brook… and don't let anything keep you from being yourself."

Brook smiled and hugged her great-grandfather. The words that he had said to her were so precious and nice that she didn't really know what else to do, but she wasn't going to just sit there without doing anything. Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn't, the point was that he said something and she appreciated that.