Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

Author's Note: This part is influenced by the episode "In Harm's Way" shown on Wednesday, 25 August where Nick hates the idea of arresting any father-turned-vigilante, distraught at having lost their child. The long look he shared with Jennifer over the roof of the car when he made this declaration made me think that he has history.

Allie had no idea what was going on.

She had left the break room only to see the lift doors shut, Nick's face turned downward and his whole body tense. Her first thought wasn't to herself or the child growing within her: it was to the man she loved who had just left.

After several calls to his phone rang out, Allie bit her lip and headed to the cluster of desks where there was movement. Matt held a folder in his hand and looked up to the newly arrived Allie with a question. "Where's Nick? We've got a witness in Room 1."

Allie fumbled, swallowing hard as she struggled to answer. "He... he had to go out."

"Oh," said Matt confused.

Jen stood up and reached for her own notebook then. "I'll come with you Matty."

This left Allie with Duncan, the man tapping away into his computer with a focused expression on his face. Twisting her fingers nervously over her phone, Allie felt like a nervous school girl as she looked at the detective.

"Yes Allie?" asked Duncan wryly, his eyes not leaving the screen.

She startled and then stepped forward, taking confidence she didn't feel from the action. "I need to ask a favour."

There must have been something in her tone as Duncan turned instantly, leaning back in his chair and looked up at her. "Name it."

"I need you to trace Nick's phone for me."

Stepping out of the taxi, she easily spotted their car in the parking lot. Looking at the brick half-wall to the right of the gate, she read the wrought iron sign. "Northcote Cemetery." She'd been surprised when Duncan tracked down the GPS on Nick's phone and it returned this place.

Stepping through the arch, the cemetery was deserted. Tugging her jacket tighter around her body in the brisk wind, she set off, her eyes seeking a lone man standing.

She almost made a mistake, accosting the wrong person, before she found the familiar figure of her husband. Standing still, she looked at him: his body upright, his hands thrust into his pockets, his head looking down at a headstone.

Stepping closer, she silently took a position next to the sombre man and looked down at the grave. The grass was green and the small slab of stone that jutted up at the head read:

Rafferty Symonds Buchanan

11 May 1996 – 26 August 1996

Much loved son of Nick and Daisy

Taken too early

In shock, Allie said the first thing that came to mind. "Why didn't you tell me about this," she said softly, turning her face to his.

His gaze never shifted. "It was over ten years ago." Nick paused and she could see him thinking. "Fourteen years ago," he clarified slowly, as if it had just hit him how fast time had flown. Just how long ago it actually was.

Allie resisted the urge to reach out and touch him. "Your family never said," she ventured next.

"I asked no one to talk about it," replied Nick harshly. "What's done is done. We can't change the anything, so why live in the past."

They were silent a moment before Allie asked the burning question. "What happened?"

Nick didn't answer for a long time. But when he did, he turned her face to hers and she felt the tug in her heart at the pain in his features. "He was killed when a man ran a red light. He was going too fast and he ploughed right into the pram." Nick's jaw tightened. "Rafe didn't stand a chance."

"Oh Nick," replied Allie, feeling his hurt. She couldn't stop her actions as she reached her hand out to his. He didn't acknowledge it, but he didn't move away either. "What about his mother?" asked Allie gently.

Nick jerked his head to the grave and headstone directly right of his deceased son's. Allie turned her head to look in the direction and saw the words "Dana "Daisy" Symonds" etched into the stone.

"She just lost her will to live," explained Nick helplessly. "There was nothing I could do to help her."

Allie didn't want to ask. "You mean she...?"

Nick was silent for a moment before he understood what she couldn't say. "No, she didn't kill herself." He shrugged his shoulders. "She just went to bed and didn't wake up one morning." He turned back to his son's headstone. "And me? I joined the police force and just kept on going."

When Allie stepped in closer and wrapped her hands around his arm, he turned ironic, trying to hide the long-hidden pain. "Guess we both ran away to the force. Therapy, you called it."

She saw straight through his attempt at light-heartedness. "I get it. You're scared."

"Perhaps I am," he agreed with a sigh. "I'm not sure I could handle losing another child."

"What about Mia?" asked Allie. "She's not going anywhere."

"I love Mia," said Nick hesitantly, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "But it's not the same. She's not... she's not mine."

Allie saw red and anger coursed through her veins. Hurt at how Nick had dismissed his adopted daughter, she took a step back. "Well, I'll just leave it to you then, shall I?"

Hearing no response, she turned on her heel and left.

She got ten paces before she stopped. The emotional maelstrom within her raged and she felt exhausted. Sighing, she turned her head back. Nick still hadn't moved, a stoic figure with his back to her.

Turning around, she went back. "I just don't get why you didn't tell me," she said exasperatedly, two steps away.

"It wasn't your problem," was Nick's tight response.

"You made it my problem the instant you walked into my life Nick," she yelled. "When you walked into Mia's life. When you walked into our unborn child's life. You..."

He turned to her then and Allie's heart broke when she saw the man that she loved – the man who had been there for her through thick and thin – with tears running down his cheeks. Dismissing words, she took the steps forward to cover the distance between them and pulled him in firmly for a hug.

He gripped her tightly.

They stood there for an eternity, a man drawing comfort from a woman. For the first time in fourteen years, more than a decade of repressed emotion, Nick faced the life he had left as a teenager and let it out. And for the first time, Allie was able to be to him, what he had always been for her.

When they parted, Allie looked up into the face of the man who had been holding on to so much for so long. "Don't shut me out," she begged, raising her hand to clasp his damp cheek.

"I was only seventeen," said Nick, his eyes off into the distance. "But I loved that baby." His face turned to hers. "I didn't have him long enough. Fifteen weeks, two days and three hours I was a father. And then nothing." He laughed humourlessly. "Gone."

He swallowed and she felt the movement of muscles under her palm. "Being with you and Mia was like my second chance I guess. Never expected to get it."

His eyes met hers for the first time that afternoon. "But honey, having another kid of my own scares me." Gripping her shoulders, he continued. "I just need time to adjust Al," he said in a strained voice. A tentative hand reached out to rest where their unborn child resided.

"But I'll get there."

Next chapter:

Pain.