Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 11

February 7th

Tommy awoke with resolve firmly in place. Today he would visit his father and Brendan would go with him. It was strange, he thought to him self as he shaved in the mirror, that the bombs and bullets of Afghanistan scared him less than going back to the house he'd grown up in.

His nightmares were as constant as ever, although he was better at hiding them, he no longer cried out in his sleep and when he woke in the dead of night, he forced himself to remain still and silent. Tommy didn't suppose the dreams would ever stop, the images of his friends bleeding out in the sand were as fresh in his mind as the day it had happened. All the same, the broken nights were catching up to him, dark circles etching themselves deeper under his eyes.

By the time he was dressed the rest of the house was waking up, he could hear Emily and Rosie bickering as they got ready for school and Tess scolding one of them gently. Tommy almost smiled to himself; he would miss the sounds of family life when he moved out even if Tess's voice sometimes was sometimes so like his mother's that it brought a lump to his throat.

There had been plenty of those moments, and Tommy could see now how a sixteen year old Brendan would chose to stay behind to be with a girl like that. Tess's presence softened the blow of loosing his mother, and his father also. Tommy could see himself being jelous of that, having that constant person in your life- somebody to trust. He wondered if he'd ever find a girl like that, someone to take the pain away.

There had been plenty of women in Tommy's life; he had needs after all like any man and was charming enough when he wanted to be. Some girls were drawn to the damage, had been since high-school where he was a quiet, intense loner. No friends but some girls just couldn't help themselves, he hadn't treated them well- fear of cruelty making him cruel himself. Once, a girl had tried to stop him as he got out of bed, putting his clothes on as soon as they were finished. She'd tried to be kind, hanging around him at school, helping him with homework, never asked for anything she was younger, inexperienced. Tommy knew when he was taking advantage.

He could have loved her, given her the things she deserved, he didn't. The guilt only hit him as he walked away. He was like his father wasn't he? He'd stayed out all night not able to face his mother and her illness. When Monday rolled around he'd he found he couldn't face the girl either, so he dropped out of school.

Since then it he'd ben all about the physical, no feelings just sex, or so he hoped. Manny had tried to set him up with a few of Pilar's friends, all very pretty but he never really took an interest. He wasn't cut out for a relationship, all that sensitive stuff. You're no good at it, and you don't need it he told himself firmly, getting up and going down for breakfast.

All his things were packed up for him to go to his new apartment. Brendan had made him go to Costco to buy some crockery and bedding for his new place. Now he had some boxes as well as his duffle bag, it was a first for him.

Tess was staying home today, looking after Rosie whose chicken pox was still in full swing. As Tommy came into the kitchen he saw her and Rosie sitting together at the table, Brendan and Emily must have already left for school.

"Good morning" said Tess brightly.

"Morning." Tommy returned putting some bread into the toaster. "How you feelin' Rosie?"

"Itchy and scratchy." The little girl replied grumpily, she held up her hands to show him how they were now incased in mittens. Tommy laughed and Rosie stuck her tongue out at him.

"Are you going in to see your dad today with Brendan?" asked Tess, joining him in the kitchen for a fresh cup of tea.

"Bren tell you about that? Yeah, we are, It's about time I guess."

"Well I hope it goes ok." She said her eyes full of concern.

"Thanks." He said quietly. He knew that caring about everyone and everything was only part of Tess's nature, but sometimes she came too close, looked too close. Tommy had to fight down the habitual anger that he threw against anyone who dared show him compassion, push down the walls that threatened to rise up against her. One day he'd get that all under control he told himself.

"You're moving into your flat today?" asked Tess, putting some dishes into the sink.

Tommy nodded in place of a response.

"We'll miss you around here, you have to promise to visit yeah?" she looked at him seriously. It was nice, Tommy thought, she meant that genuinely.

"I will, definitely."

"Good." She smiled and left him to his breakfast.

Rosie finished her cereal, complaining all the time about the lack of Lucky Charms in the house, apparently all the cool kids in first grade had them for breakfast then took the marshmallows in to school for break. Tess was having none of it and Rosie had to suffer on with All Bran or Weetabix.

"One day you'll thank me for this" intoned Tess as the two climbed up the stairs so that Rosie could go back to bed. Tommy watched them go, finishing his toast in solitude.

As she reached the top of the stairs Rosie suddenly turned and sprinted back down. To Tommy's great surprise she threw her chubby arms around his knees.

"Miss you uncle Tommy!" she told him, giving him a gap-toothed smile.

Tommy leant down and picked up the little girl, ruffling her curly blonde hair. "I'll miss you too Rosie, now you be good y'hear?" he set her down and let her run off back to bed. Tess caught his eye with a smile.

Tess was letting Tommy borrow her car as she was staying home with Rosie so the commute in to Frank's gym was quick. Tommy fiddled with the radio, switching to a local DJ who was talking about last night's fights and the CONSOL Energy Center. It was a shame about Marco loosing, the man had tried his hardest but coming back from an injury in the end he was no match for the brute force that was Rampage Jackson. Marco had made it into the third round, putting up a good fight but everyone could see he was the under dog. Eventually Jackson got him deep in a chokehold until he tapped.

Oh well, Tommy thought to himself, at least he beat Mad Dog. Watching the fights had reminded him exactly what he was missing during his recovery. His desire to fight again burned somewhere deep in his chest, to Tommy fighting had long been his only means of expression. It was his only safety valve against the anger that had pulsed and coiled under his skin since before he could remember, the anger that, when unleashed, turned him into someone he didn't recognize.

Going to the tournament had been fun for Tommy, it was a long time since he'd been able to hang out and have a drink with friends. He hadn't had anyone to hang out with since Manny died, nor the inclination. He hadn't always been a loner, the men he'd known in the Marines had been closer to him than brothers, he wasn't sure that he'd ever have friends like that again. Their deaths had changed him, hardened him to the world.

He fiddled with the radio again, narrowly avoiding being blindsided by a car crossing lanes. The thought of seeing his Pop again was making him nervous whether he liked to admit it or not. Having Brendan with him was going to be weird too, his brother had been so adamant for so long that he would never speak to his father in person again. And now, he was willing to let go of that to go with Tommy.

The brothers hadn't spoken about it, the Conlon family habit of silence prevented it but Tommy knew Brendan was feeling at least as bad as he was. His brother had rushed out of the house like it was on fire that morning if the sounds in the kitchen were any indication, no doubt wanting the distraction of his job.

Work was slow, Tommy was too uptight about seeing his father that evening to be much conversation. Jay was on his day off- apparently spending the day in bed with a girl he'd picked up last night after the tournament if Chad was to be believed. The place was mostly empty today- Frank was in his office talking to sponsors so Tommy waived at him through the window.

Frank had finally let Tommy off desk duty, they'd agreed that it wasn't exactly his strong suit. Instead he had Tommy in full time training- rebuilding the strength he'd lost in the past six months and getting back the range of mobility in his shoulder. Without the prescription of painkillers given to him by the doctor Tommy could still feel he bones grinding against each other as he lifted weights. He welcomed the pain; it helped to keep him focused. It wasn't as if he had much choice, painkiller, mood stabilizers, anti-depression drugs- he'd been down that road before. After he'd deserted his unit in Afghanistan, still reeling from Manny's death he'd turned to pills to dull the pain, make him functional. He hadn't appreciated until months later just how dependent he'd become to them. Not until Pop had forced him to give them up so he could train again. the withdrawal symptoms hadn't been so severe that he couldn't hide them but the sweating, shivering nights up in his old bedroom had been enough to convince him never to touch the stuff again.

Days like today though, he wished he still had some codeine in his jacket. It was about four when Tommy spotted his brother entering the gym, he caught his eye and then went straight for the showers to get cleaned up. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach at the thought of going back to that house, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Stop being a pussy he told himself, standing up heading for the car.

It was dark in the house, all the blinds drawn down. Pop lead them into the sitting room where he collapsed back into his easy chair, bloodshot eyes peering at them through the gloom. Brendan was looking around, examining old family photos he hadn't seen for twenty years. Tommy on the other hand couldn't tear his eyes from his father. This was a shadow of the man who had trained him for Sparta. The dad Tommy had known from six months ago had been as fit and strong as an aging ex-alcaholic could be expected to be, he'd taken care of his car, his house and, although Tommy hated to admit it, his son. Now, that man was gone. In his place was the father of their childhood nightmares.

He reeked of sweat and stale liquor; his clothes, obviously slept in. As Brendan switched on the overhead light, Tommy could see that his father's eyes were red as the devil, bloodshot and struggling to make them out. He came closer, kneeling at the man's feet.

"Hey Pop, how've you been?" he asked quietly. His father looked sharply down at him.

"Fine Tommy. Been wonderin' when my boy was gonna come see me." Tommy threw a glace over his shoulder at Brendan who didn't react to their father's choice of the singular.

"I'm here Pop. I'm back. You been takin' care of yourself? Been going to the AA?" Tommy hated to hear himself ask. Why should he care if the old man was going to his damn meetings? Anger, undirected at anyone in particular, rose in his chest. He pushed it down.

"I ain't been goin' any more Tommy. It's no good, I ain't sick, just tired. I had one thousand days sober before Atlantic City, ain't had one since. Don't want one neither." With a shaking hand the old man reached under his seat for a hidden bottle, raising it to his lips he took a deep pull. Smiling absently, he offered it to Tommy who shook his head.

"What's the matter? I'm just tryin' to show you a little hospitality."

"I'm fine."

"What'sa matter?" Pop's voice rose, the color rising in his bristled cheeks. "Too good for it? Or do you only take those damn pills now?" Brendan looked up sharply from the other side of the room.

"I'm not takin' no pills Pop." Replied Tommy evenly, standing up away from his father. He was fighting the urge to be sick, so strong was the smell of filth clinging to the man.

Brenan took Tommy's place in the small circle of light thrown by Pop's reading lamp. Their father's face broke in to a smile, the lines and crags lifting somewhat.

"Brendan, my boy. You here too?"

"Yeah Pop, I'm here. I'm here to get you some help, we think you need it. Get you back into the AA?" Tommy looked sharply at Brendan, trying to warn him off the topic, but the damage had been done. Pop bristled visibly, fingers clenching around the whisky bottle.

"Get out. " he growled, Brendan didn't move, Tommy had to hand it to him, the man had balls. "Get out!" their father roared, spit flying. With a crash the whisky bottle smashed against the nearest wall, staining the pale wallpaper and splattering family photographs. No one in the room flinched. Pop deflated somewhat. "Brendan, you can't… you can't. I'm your father." The pleading voice that Tommy had grown to so despise was back but this time their father wasn't begging for forgiveness.

The two younger men looked at each other for a long moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. All of a sudden, Tommy began to feel claustrophobic. The weight of their shared and painful past in this house pressing down on him, smothering him. Without another word he stood up and left slamming the front door behind him. Sitting down on the steps he watched his breath cloud in front of him. It was just like the night when he first returned to Pittsburgh, waiting with a bottle of whiskey for his father to come home. It had been as cold that night as it was now and he'd almost given up before he saw the old sedan wending its way down the street. The car was up on blocks now, a dustsheet covering the paint.

"Fuck" Tommy swore out loud. The anger he'd been denying himself was burning in him now- he'd never wanted to hit someone or something so badly. He clenched his fists until they hurt, forcing himself to stay sitting and silent. Still, Tommy knew that the rage he felt now towards his father was the easy part- the guilt would come later, would leach into his bones like an acid. This was, after all his fault. The old man was doing fine without him- going to meetings, trying to make things right with Brendan and Tess. That was until Tommy ruined all of that for him- destroying everything he'd worked to rebuild. No wonder he couldn't stay sober now.

Light spilled onto the porch behind him as Brendan stepped outside and sat down. Neither man said a word for a long moment. Tommy looked over to see that Brendan's eyes were very bright.

"You alright?" it took him a moment to bring himself to ask the question.

Brendan took a deep breath before answering. "Yeah, just give me a minute." They sat in silence once more.

"What are we gonna do?" asked Tommy when Brendan seemed more recovered.

"I dunno. We don't have to do anything." Tommy raised his eyebrows, he'd never thought of his brother as hard-hearted.

"Okay, we do have to do something. We can put him in rehab- there are some residential programs."

"He won't thank us for it."

"Not right now, no." the knowledge of their father's anger seemed not to phase Brendan, which made Tommy wonder how bad things had been after he and mom left. Brendan was always the one who idolized pop, never seemed to blame him for what he did. But, Tommy wasn't ready to ask, and Brendan wasn't ready to tell.

"Okay, lets go," said Brendan after a long moment. Neither man looked back towards the house as they got into the car but Tommy could swear he felt his father's gaze on his back.

It was a quiet drive back to Monroeville and Brendan's house. Tommy stared out of the window, purposely avoiding his brother's gaze, hoping also to avoid any conversation. The guilt, long anticipated had settled like a mantle over his shoulders. The sight of his father's bloodshot eyes boring into his, the smell of stale whiskey and unwashed clothes clung to him. It was a while before he realized that his hands were still clenched into the fists he'd made on the porch. His fingers were stiff as they uncurled. The anger was gone now, dissipated and directionless but the weight of the guilt more than took its place. This was his fault of course, pushing the old man to have a drink again and again. Six months ago the sight of his father drunk, ill and helpless would have given Tommy and intense sense of satisfaction, it would have been just what he deserved. Now, this long-sought victory didn't bring any pleasure, especially knowing that Brendan would shoulder this new responsibility for the both of them.

"You got everything you need for the new apartment?" asked Brendan, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah. It's all in the back." Replied Tommy glancing over at Brendan at last. The other man was still slightly pale but his grip on the steering wheel was steady. Tommy felt a bit sorry for his brother, being dragged back into their uncomfortable family history despite the fact that it was the last thing he'd wanted. Now Brendan's moral conscience would demand that he look after the father he'd grown to despise, provide for the man who'd made his life a misery and left scars on him that even Tommy didn't know about.

"I'd better get back to Tess once I drop you off." Said Brendan, pulling onto Oakland Avenue at last. The sun had just dropped behind the rows of skyscrapers in the distance and dusk was falling. A party was going on in one of the apartment blocks, the heavy bass music rattling the windows of the car.

"Its okay, I don't have more stuff than I can carry up myself." Tommy replied. Neither man wanted to stay long in the company of the other. The knowledge of their father's situation was wedged uncomfortably present but impossible to broach.

Brendan nodded and parked under a streetlamp. He didn't get out as Tommy opened the trunk and removed his two boxes and duffle bag or clothes. Tommy wondered if deep down Brendan didn't blame him for their father's relapse just as much as Tommy blamed himself.

Brendan rolled down the driver's side window and leaned out to say goodbye. "Tommy. We'll figure something out okay?" Tommy nodded wordlessly. "How about you come to dinner on Sunday night?" Brendan ventured, "The girls are going to be missing you…" Tommy smiled, touched.

"Yeah, I'd like that- need to sort myself out a car one of these days."

"Yeah, then you can drive the girls to school for me."

"Well I don't know about that, but I will visit."

"I'm glad. Gonna miss having my little brother around." Brendan smiled. "You take care okay?"

"You too" said Tommy, "thanks for the lift." Later, in a matter of months, maybe a year the brothers would have hugged goodbye but not tonight.

Tommy gathered his boxes into his hands, slinging the duffle bag over his shoulder. It was going to be a long night- as pleased as he was to have his own apartment, Tommy wasn't looking forward to the solitude as much as he thought he would. The thought of living entirely on his own, the quiet, the privacy- he hadn't thought about the loneliness, it hadn't occurred to him that he would have anyone left to miss.

Tommy's hearing, honed by years in Afghanistan, only caught her footsteps moments before she stepped into the pool of light by the apartment doors. Jumping slightly at the sound, his key slipped out of the lock.

"You want some help?" the girl asked from somewhere on his right.

"Sure." Tommy glanced at her as she fished in her handbag, sleek brunette hair, doe-brown eyes. Where had he seen that before, he whipped around to look at her properly, so fast he almost dropped his boxes.

"Say, haven't I seen you before?" He tried to be cool as she unlocked the door, seemed like he might win that bet sooner than he thought.

"From last night?" the girl, Katrina, he remembered, stood back to let him in.

"Yeah, at the tournament." The image of her in the tiny red shorts and fishnets swam in front of his eyes. It took Tommy a moment to realize that the girl wanted him to go through the door first, he stood back deliberately- Ma had taught him better manners than that. As the girl stepped into the lobby, Tommy had to stop himself from checking out her ass again, three times before knowing her last name seemed ungentlemanly.

In the lights of the lobby he could see the girl looking at him intently if he didn't know better he would say she was checking him out- he felt his ego swell up.

"So you're Tommy?" she asked.

"Yep. And you're Katrina, right?" she was even prettier than he remembered, without all the stage make-up on.

"And you're really moving in here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he felt himself start to smile.

The girl moved towards the lift, swinging her long dark hair over one shoulder. She was saying something about coincidences, Tommy found himself more interested in the sway of her hips.

"I guess it's a small world" he supplied, in answer to her question. The lift was tiny- Tommy, feeling totally off his game had nothing to say and silence fell between the two. He racked his brains for a way to ask for her number without coming over too strong, and drew a blank.

The lift doors opened for the third floor, Tommy's floor. He was about to get out, ticking himself off for missing an oppertunity, when the girl reached out as if to hold him back. He turned.

"Is that all your stuff?" she asked. That wasn't the question he'd been expecting.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Well how about you come up for a coffee- when you're done unpacking." She caught his eye, then flushed it suited her.

He smiled, "What's your number?"

"37."

"I'll see you there." As the doors closed Tommy allowed a wolfish grin to break out over his face. Jay and the others be dammed, lady luck was on his side for this one.

Unlocking the door to his new apartment, Tommy ventured inside. It was small, all one room really with a mezzanine level bedroom and a big window overlooking the street. To give himself something else to think about than coffee with Katrina, Tommy set to quickly and efficiently unpacking his boxes. First went the sheets into the cupboard, then the single set of plates, cutlery and glasses into the kitchen. He made his bed, put his clothes in the closet and contemplated changing out of his ratty t-shirt. Girls could always tell if you'd made an effort to look good for them- not wanting to give anything away, he decided against it instead washing his hands briefly. He passed, back and forth around the living room, such as it was. Tommy didn't want to be early and look keen, but he didn't want to keep her waiting either. The suspense was killing him, patience was never his strong point.

Unable to take it any longer he gathered up his keys and headed upstairs to 37.

She opened the door almost as soon as he'd finished knocking. As soon as he saw her he wished he'd changed his shirt. The red top she was wearing glowed against the smooth skin of her bare shoulders, chasing most coherent thought out of his mind. Tommy forcibly pulled himself back together, it had been way too long since he and Manny would pick up girls in bars.

"Hey." He ventured, his voice very rough.

"Come in." she replied.

Her apartment was just like his in proportions except that it faced the opposite side of the building, facing across the rooftops into central Pittsburgh. It was warm in the apartment, warm in the way he was sure his could never be, a lived-in feeling that put him at ease.

"So…" the girl started, leading him towards the kitchenette, She brushed aside his offer of help with the coffee and steered him towards a stool. "Its ok, I can manage."

He sat, watching her quietly as she gathered things, hands quick and light.

"So…" she ventured again, "where did you just move from?"

"Was stayin' at my brother's house before now."

"That's nice," said Katrina from over by the sink. "so you're from the area?"

"You could say that." Tommy realized that he was being unnecessary cryptic, "I was away a long time."

"And now you've come home."

"Yeah, I guess I have."

"It's never the same as when you left is it." said Katrina, stirring sugar into one mug, the kettle was starting to steam.

"I dunno about that, sometimes its like nothing's changed at all." She nodded, to show she understood.

"And you're a fighter?" she asked, pouring out the water.

"Yeah, I had an injury though but I'm back in training now."

"So I might see you in the ring sometime- here" she pushed a steaming mug towards him.

"Thanks," Tommy wasn't really much of a coffee drinker but if it kept him up all night tonight, he'd be happy. "So what do you do when you're not dancing at the CONSOL center?"

She laughed, "I'm a ballet dancer with the Pittsburgh company."

"Really?" so Chad was right then.

"Yeah, I just started there a few weeks ago actually."

"So you're new to the 'burgh?"

"Pretty much, lived in Chicago before this so it's not too much different."

"Chicago… never been."

"Well, its nothing like the musical. I moved there to got to the ballet school when I was eight and then danced in the company when I graduated." Tommy's eyebrows rose.

"You started at eight? Seems kinda young to be away from home."

"I guess, my mom lives in Maine, on one of the islands, there's no school there or anything really so she was happy I didn't have to be homeschooled," If Tommy had been anyone else he might have asked about her father, as it stood, he didn't. "What about you, said you've been away from Pittsburgh for a while?"

He nodded, not saying anything for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"I was in the military- did a couple of tours before getting into fighting."

"Wow, military," she took a gulp of coffee, seemingly about to say something- Tommy got the feeling she was going to ask why he left and was about to cut her off.

"When'd you get your tattoo?" she asked, tilting her head to the side the get a better look.

"This one?" he pointed out the dark tribal markings on his right arm.

"Yeah- it's a lot of ink for one guy."

"I got others."

"Seriously?"

Unconsciously he lifted up his shirt a little to show her the masks on his chest and the words across his abdomen. "You weren't kidding" she stepped closer, coming to his side of the bench. Tommy felt heat rushing to the surface of his skin, wondering what her hands would feel like on his chest. He dropped his shirt and reached for his coffee.

"You got any ink?"

She shook her head, "Scared of needles, I don't know what I'd get anyway."

"That's smart- I got my first one at sixteen, no real meaning behind it" he gestured to the tribal tattoo, "kinda regret it now."

"I dunno, think it looks pretty cool." Katrina said, catching his eye. "sounds like you were a bit more of a badass teenager than me- my major rebellion was dying my hair blonde., nothing so permanent."

He laughed, Christ, he didn't think he would be laughing today, but here it was, right in a cute girl's kitchen. "Can't imagine you as a blonde."

"Don't, it was horrible." She giggled. "the principal of my school made me get a boy's haircut so it would grow out faster."

"Seriously?" it was his turn to be surprised.

"Yup. It was so embarrassing."

They'd both finished their coffee and Katrina offered him another which he accepted. It was strange- half an hour ago he'd felt the weight of the world pressing down on him, but now, well, this girl was a good distraction from all that.

They finished their second cups in relative silence, Tommy guessed that she'd had a long day by the look of the dark circles under her eyes. She yawned. "Sorry."

"All that coffee not doing you any good?"

"Its decaf."

"Decaf? What's the point of that?"

"Well I'm not going to ply you with caffeine at this time of night am I?"

"'Spose not… decaf… do you have a cell phone?"

She looked at him, thrown by the change of topic.

"Yeah… doesn't everyone?"

"yeah I guess so… anyway, what's your number" he didn't mean to blurt it out like that- maybe he should have planned something smoother to say.

"Umm…" she tipped her handbag over the table looking for her phone. "Here, the number's on the screen." He took it, their fingers brushing ever so slightly.

"I'll have to take you out for a real coffee sometime." He said, handing the phone back. She blushed again, Tommy had the feeling he was too.

"I'd like that,"

"Yeah me too" of course you do or you wouldn't have suggested it idiot! Tommy mentally berated himself.

"I umm, should probably go, its getting late." He set his mug down. "Thanks for the coffee Katrina"

"You're welcome," she showed him out, he hesitated a split second at the doorway. Would any other man kiss her on the cheek goodbye? He was close enough to do it, tantalizingly close. He decided against it, bidding her goodnight gruffly.

"Bye" she replied softly, smiling. The image of her in the doorway would haunt his dreams that night, chasing away thoughts of his father's house.

A/N sorry about the wait guys! Hope you like it- this chapter was so hard to write so any comments/ critique would be very welcome xx