A/N: WOW! Thanks to all my reviewers. You definitely have very strong opinions about what has or will happen in this story. It is stupendous!

I know I promised a Mega chapter, but I have decided to post it in two parts because the second part still needs editing. I hope this chapter earns me forgiveness =)

Pausing outside Jamie's apartment, Frank was disturbed to find the door unlocked. He was even more disturbed at what he found inside – in less than an hour Jamie had already drunk almost half a bottle of Scotch. The bottle hung loosely in the young man's hand. He was staring, unseeing, at the floor, and his other hand dug into his thigh. Frank took the bottle from his son's hand and went to put it on the kitchen bench. Upon his return the sight almost sent him to his knees. He had to stop and breathe in order not to give away his alarm. He had never seen anybody look so puddled. It was as if someone had liquefied him, put him in a bucket, and thrown him off the roof of One Police Plaza.

Jamie must have sensed his presence because he made as if to speak.

"I suppose, Mr. Commissioner, Sir -

"If I was here as the Police Commissioner, I wouldn't be here." Frank interrupted him. "Detective Daniel Reagan acted extremely professionally. He did everything by the book. His case for Special Leave – Exigent Circumstances is very compelling, and with that evidence, your Captain has no choice but to investigate further. However," he emphasised, "your brother, Danny Reagan, he was way out of line. He had no right to do this to you, especially without talking to one of us first. It's your business, nobody else's!"

"You just said he acted extremely professionally."

"Professionally, as a detective, yes. Personally, as a brother, definitely not. They are not one and the same. He has to learn, we all do, when and how to switch roles. Sometimes it can be challenging to figure out, sometimes impossible. Not this time! He should have known to act as a brother in this situation, not a detective."

"Once a cop, always a cop, 24/7. Isn't that what you've always said? No room for anything else." Although Jamie knew he was just reiterating what he's been taught all his life, he hated that it sounded like he was defending his brother. "That's how you became PC, and Danny made Detective, and Erin ADA. "Family business" and all that? Sounds very Supernatural to me."

Frank pursed his lips. "I do see it as a calling, yes. But supernatural? I don't know about that."

References to current TV programmes were obviously lost on his Dad. Jamie didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He'd just proved his own point.

"This isn't just about the Form 140 is it?" Frank paused, wondering whether to press Jamie. "Want to talk about it?" He kept his voice soft and non-threatening, the choice entirely Jamie's. Intuition told Frank whatever was bothering his youngest was huge on a personal level, and he didn't want to jeopardise the conversation by pressuring the boy. Nevertheless, he did want to do something to show his support. Asking questions might be perceived as nosy.

He considered simply staying in the apartment, making himself available for when Jamie was willing to talk. But Jamie was just as likely to take that action as judgemental – the last thing Jamie needed. So he did the one thing he knew would assuage Jamie's fears and prove to the young man that his father was there for one reason, and one reason only. Support.

Jamie was astounded when his Dad picked him and took his place on the chair. The man pulled Jamie's knees up by his hip, laid his son's head on his shoulder, and waited. Every so often he ran his thumb down Jamie's spine, or massaged his boy's shin. Mostly, though, he just waited, held his son together until the boy was strong enough to hold himself together again. It was testament to Jamie's mentality that he didn't fight these ministrations.

"I just want my family back!" Jamie's heart-rending cry shocked Frank. He'd always prided himself in his family's closeness and loyalty, and to realise his son didn't feel the same way was appalling.

"Where have we gone?" he gently prodded.

"I don't know. I don't even know whether the family's gone. Or if I'm the one that's gone. Or if we're all lost. I just don't know." Jamie howled.

"What do you know?"

"I'm not happy."

"I see that. Can you talk about it?"

"Probably nothing coherent."

"It doesn't have to be. If you want, just talk and we'll make sense of it together."

Jamie's pause was lengthy. "Does it ever concern you that the kids know more about collecting evidence than collecting baseball cards? That we can discuss crime in front of them but not finances? Or that Erin knows more about courtroom etiquette than dating etiquette? That she knows how to address a judge but not when to let a date pay for her meal? Or how we as a family are going to react, professionally and personally, if Danny ever get invalided out of the Force? How is he going to fit in with this family if the only job he can get is as a shop assistant, and nothing at all to do with justice and the law? Can you imagine us discussing the price of cheese?"

Frank's thoughts were swirling. How had he missed this desolation? Still, he didn't miss the fact that there was one person Jamie had not mentioned.

"And you?"