ZOMG! IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE UPDATED! I'm SORRY! Thanks so, so much for my lovely reviews, you guys are AWESOME!
I hope this chapter is good enough, please tell me! I hope I haven't made any mistakes, coz I'm trying to iron some stuff for y'all, so I hope it works.
This chapter title comes from an awesome book but the words are more fitting than the book itself.
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Seventeen # The Ask and the Answer #
"A volcanic ash cloud?" Grissom asked incredulously.
"Yes, a volcano in Iceland erupted roughly two hours ago, and thanks to the weather by this time the ash cloud is too large to allow any planes to fly at this time. I'm sorry sir, but no flights will be able to take off or land for an indefinite period of time." The girl at the reception desk seemed severe.
Grissom shook his head and sighed angrily. "Look, I need to get back to Nevada, my wife and...my wife and my son are in trouble, they've been shot at."
"I'm sorry but unless you travel through Europe to about Spain then you're not going to be getting back soon."
Grissom gritted his teeth. "How long will it take?"
"It could be days, or weeks or months. I really don't know. I've been told the prediction is two weeks."
"Two weeks?"
"Yes."
Grissom ran a hand over his chin. "Okay...okay, thank you..."
Deciding to be logical, he called a taxi and headed to his hotel before pulling out his phone to call Sara.
"Gil?"
"Hi Sara. Have you heard the news?"
"Volcanic ash cloud? Yeah, I heard. I think you should get the book deal done."
Grissom sighed. "Sara-"
"No, Gil. There's nothing you can do. Nothing, okay? I've thought about it...something good may as well come out of this. And also, I'm glad that you're not here. If you're not here then there's less chance of you getting hurt."
Grissom sighed again. "You know, traditionally, it's the husband's duty to protect his family."
"Well, you know what I think about tradition. Please, Gil, please. Do it for me, please..."
"Sara, you know you sometimes when you get involved I just don't know what to do. If I didn't know better I would say that you were responsible for the volcano."
"Very funny. Look, Gil, I love you, but I gotta go, we're running Catherine and Alyssa through our case notes. I'll speak to you soon."
"I love you. And Eli."
"We love you too."
CSIVCSIVCSIV
"So." DB stared at the files on the table in the layout room.
Eli, Kristy and the twins were in the break room with Judy, the receptionist and DB's wife Barbara, and the team, plus Hodges, Xiomara, Archie, Mandy, Catherine and Alyssa were all standing around the table staring at the case files.
It had taken a long while for Eli to calm down enough to allow Sara to leave, but eventually she persuaded him to let her work the case with the promise of being back in a few hours and only ever being just around the corner.
"Why was the CIA looking at Greg?" DB asked.
"I don't know, I honestly don't. A lot of that part of the file was blacked out." Alyssa admitted with slight irritation. "I'm not sure it was necessarily to do with Greg, though. I think it may be to do with his father. Mark Sanderson."
"He's an intelligence operative in the army." Greg explained. "He used his grandfather's name in the army, he would never tell me why."
Alyssa sighed. "It's because the risk of someone trying to find any family of his was high. He knew a lot of government secrets. The investigation at the CIA, from what I could gather, was looking into a leak in his department, before and after he was taken as a prisoner of war along with several other men. They were believed to have been taken by an American idealist terrorist group calling themselves God's Angels."
Morgan scoffed. "Little pretentious."
Alyssa nodded. "A couple of CIA operatives that I know quite well had been working on taking them down for years for years, as in almost fifty. They got in so deep that they had to give up their lives as they knew them. They had a five year old son when they were forced to go off the grid. They're good friends of mine, and they said it was the hardest thing they had ever done. The agency thinks that they took Mark Sanders because he knew many military secrets, but as far as we're aware he didn't leak any of them. He's been presumed dead for years, until the FBI were sent the video. We don't know when the video was filmed, our AV tech guessed within this year but she couldn't narrow it down further." Alyssa explained.
Greg breathed in deeply.
"And I think this might be linked to the Martinez case. I didn't realise before because I didn't know the names, but one of the men taken prisoner was called Pedro Martinez. He had three brothers, Jose - a gang leader, Enrique, a drug dealer who was killed two days before I brought the twins to Greg, and Diego, a minor gang member. Pedro was the only one who could handle growing up with a schizophrenic mom and an alcoholic dad." Alyssa continued.
Sara shifted slightly. "Jose Martinez was the original suspect for the Rodgers family murders. He's also the guy with the supposedly dead wife and daughter, the one who shot at Eli and I."
"Exactly."
"So how do we find them? And what do they want?" Nick asked.
"I'm not sure." Alyssa admitted. "If Jose's daughter and wife were killed, even three years ago, then he would be very...angry. He's a very dangerous individual."
"Yeah, we've noticed..." DB sighed.
Alyssa nodded. "But I have an idea why God's Angels might be after Greg. What better way to make his father talk?"
"Fun." Greg muttered, and Morgan glanced at him in worry.
Mandy put a file down on the table. "I found Mario Lorenzo, the brother in law's fingerprint on one of the bullet casings from Nick's house."
"And I found something weird in the same bullet, it was a tiny bit of paper with writing on it. It said 'May the son pay for the father's sins.'"
"What does that mean?" Finn frowned at Nick.
"I have no idea." Nick frowned.
"Do you think it's possible that Jose Martinez just wants to find out what happened to his family?" DB asked.
"If he already slaughtered a family over this then I doubt it." Alyssa shook her head.
"Ms Willows, there are some men to see you in reception." Judy popped her head around the door.
"I'll be back." Catherine smiled.
She walked the familiar route to the reception and paused when she saw her boss standing next to another man. "Sir?"
Butler smiled. "The CIA pulled through. Four days ago they stormed a Heaven's Angels base in Afghanistan. This is Mark Sanders."
Catherine's mouth popped open. "Oh my god...hi, I'm Catherine Willows."
"I know." The other man said quietly.
"He's been interrogated thoroughly and treated at the hospital. I met him in Afghanistan and flew him back to Vegas, he just wants to see his son." Her boss said aside to Catherine.
"Wow..." Catherine swallowed. "Do you want me to get him?"
Mark turned his face toward her and nodded slightly. "Please..."
"There's an empty lab over here if you wanted somewhere more private." Catherine led him there. "I'll go get Greg." She nodded, walking straight off. "Greg?"
The young man looked up. "Yeah?"
"Can you come with me?"
"Sure..." He followed her out and she put a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"They...they found your dad. He's here, Greg, he's alive, he wants to see you."
Greg's mouth dropped open. "Really?"
"I wouldn't joke about this, Greg."
"Where is he?" Greg swallowed.
"In the old AV lab. Come on..."
Catherine lingered by the door as Greg slipped into the AV lab.
"Dad?"
"Greg..." The almost emaciated man swallowed. "Greg, I'm sorry I left, I was going to quit but-"
Mark Sanders cut off as his son hugged him tightly.
"I'm glad you're back." Greg whispered.
Mark swallowed and hugged Greg back. "Me too."
"Are you okay, what happened?"
"I'm fine." Mark nodded, pulling gently away from his son to study his face. "They didn't... No one came or-"
"No, not yet. But uh, I'm in a bit of trouble still, I'll explain later. I've got a lot to tell you."
"Like what?" Mark smiled slightly, not able to wait to catch up on what he'd missed in his son's life.
"Well, um..." As if on cue, a loud squeal emitted from the corridor followed by Judy's startled cry.
"Loeila!"
Greg couldn't help but laugh as his daughter hurtled around the corner. "Daaaaaddddyyyyy!"
She smashed into Greg's legs, staring up at her dad with imploring eyes. "Help me daddy!"
"What's wrong?" Greg asked seriously, watching his dad's eyes widen out of the corner of his own eye as the older man saw the little girl.
"Weuben and Eli awe puttin' piders in my haiw!" she cried. "Dey scawing me!"
"Oh, really?"
Two little heads peered around the door. "I would never do such a thing, Uncle Greg!" Eli gasped melodramatically.
"Neber!" Reuben agreed, holding out his empty palms. "We innocent!"
Loeila stuck out her tongue. "Daddy, dey lying!"
Greg laughed, hoisting Loeila onto his hip. "I'll have to think about that."
"Eli!" Catherine called from the doorway. "Grissom's on the phone, you wanna talk to him?"
"Oh, yeah!" Eli cried, running out of the room.
"Who dat, daddy?" Reuben asked, lingering by the door, as if seeing Mark Sanders for the first time.
"Come here, Reubs..." Greg beckoned and Reuben ran to his father's side, peering up at the strange man through Greg's legs. "Loeila, Reuben, this is my dad. Your granddad."
Mark's mouth opened softly at the affirmation. "You have...they are...Greg...wow...who, what..."
"Their mom was...is... Well, we're not together, it's complicated, I'll explain later. This is-"
"No, daddy I say my name! Dis is a special day, you have you'we daddy home!" Loeila hit Greg on the head. She wiggled around for a moment and dramatically cleared her throat. "Ah he hem. My name is Loeila Mawee Hojem Sandews."
"Hello, Loeila." Mark smiled softly.
"We think she'll be on Broadway one day." Greg joked.
Reuben darted through his father's legs to tap his grandfather's knee, before shyly hiding behind his father's legs again.
"I'm Reuben Warrick Mark Hojem Sanders. I'm older by ten minutes and two seconds! What's your name?"
"I'm Mark." The man said softly.
Reuben looked up at his dad and back to his granddad. "I named after you?"
"Yeah, Reubs." Greg interrupted.
"But daddy, I named after Warrick because Eli's daddy's in heaven. Why am I named after granddad if he's not in heaven?"
Greg smiled sadly at his son, but Loeila interrupted. "Coz they didn't know whewe he was. Nana told me dat dey fought he was pobably in heaben. Den Papa Olaf said ikke la barna være trist! fortelle dem lykkelige historier."
"Which means don't let the children be sad! Tell dem happy stories." Reuben translated with a smug little smile.
"They speak Norwegian?" Mark cried.
"Yep." Replied Greg proudly. "Well, a little."
"Daddy, can we go home now? Granddad can come too, but I dust wanna go home." Loeila pleaded. "I tiwed."
"We can't go home just yet, Lola." Greg sighed.
She pouted. "But I want to."
"Well, how about you guys go back into the break room while I finish up the boring adult stuff?"
"No, you come wib us!" Reuben insisted.
"I can't just now. Barbara and Judy will stay with you?"
"My Hodgie!" Loeila insisted.
"Yeah! And Lola's Hodgie!" Reuben nodded.
"Fine, guys, come on then." He smiled, calling Hodges out of the room and introducing his dad to everyone.
"How'd you get out? If you don't mind me asking?" Morgan asked, blushing slightly.
Mark took a deep breath.
He raised his heavy head as gunshots rang through his ears. They were part of his everyday life now, had been for around eight years.
For a while he'd kept track of every single day, but not anymore.
He'd lost track of the days a long time ago.
The first six months he had spent in slight fear and stubborn denial. After that he'd just gone numb and sunk into a state much like depression. He ate what they brought him, he slept when he could, but there was a hollowness accompanying his every action.
Nothing he did had meaning any more.
Every single day they would ask him the same questions, questions about the government, about the secrets he'd been told.
A few days ago they'd asked about his son. That was when the fear truly set in. The mind numbing terror that someone might hurt his son. He couldn't care about what they did to him.
The door opened and he didn't even react.
"Mr. Sanders?" He looked up slowly. He hadn't been called that since home...
A man who looked about thirty in the familiar uniform of the US army took out a long knife and quickly cut the ropes binding his arms and legs to the chair, speaking as he did it. "My name is Officer Stanley, I'm here to get you home, just hold on."
"Forgive me if I don't believe you." Mark answered tiredly, emotionlessly.
The man smiled sympathetically and helped Mark to his feet. The gunfire increased and then died down, coinciding with the barked orders of the army. Mark allowed himself to be led to an army van.
A man and a woman who looked to be in their sixties pulled him in. "Mark Sanders?"
"In the army its Sanderson." He answered slowly, trying not to give anything away, though he knew it was pointless if they already knew.
"I'm Elizabeth Brown." The woman said. "This is my husband and partner George, we're with the CIA."
She showed him an ID and badge. He stared at the picture of the African-American woman and the badge. It looked authentic.
He ran a thumb over the metal. "Feels real."
"It is." George said simply, a sympathetic smile on his face.
Suddenly the van jolted to a start.
Mark jumped, grabbing the edge of his seat.
"It's alright, we're getting you to hospital."
Mark nodded stiffly, his guard still up, though exhaustion flooded his veins. It was amazing how tiring doing nothing was.
He started to black out in the van, and when he woke up he was in hospital.
An IV line was sticking out of his hand and he was wearing a hospital gown. His skin was clean, soft.
It felt strange with the absence of years of dirt, mud and sand on his skin.
He blinked a few times, his vision blurring in and out of focus.
Elizabeth was sitting in the chair by the side of the bed. "You're awake. I told you we were taking you to hospital."
He nodded mutely. He still didn't feel safe.
"We'll explain everything soon. As soon as you're strong enough."
"They told me how we'd been betrayed – Jeremiah Sampson, Callum McPherson and Pedro Martinez all went dirty. I already knew about Martinez..."
"Get down, get down!" Mark roared as bullets flew through the air, shoving OJ, James and Callum to the floor. "Pedro, Jeremiah, get down!"
Four men walked through the door, guns at the ready.
Pedro and Jeremiah stood aside.
"You, stand up! Stand up!" The first man roared in a strong Southern accent.
"Do as he says." Pedro smiled. "It will end better for you, Marko."
Mark's heart fell. "Sergeant Martinez-"
"Take William's first, he's the weakest." Pedro instructed. Within seconds, Mark loaded his gun and shot Pedro three times. As the man fell to the floor, his new allies fired back, knocking OJ to the floor...
"McPherson and Sampson tried to double cross God's Angels and they're both dead. I don't think Martinez did, and as far as I know, he's still alive. OJ Williams was killed the day we got taken in, they found his body...James Durrant survived, he went to Maryland to see his parents and sister. The CIA and the FBI both interrogated me for a while, then I called my wife, and then the FBI brought me here."
"Wow..." Finn breathed.
"Do, uh...do you mind telling me what's going on?" Mark asked. "If it's classified, I understand, but-"
"No, no, it's fine, we were just about try and sum everything up anyway." DB smiled, nodding at Finn.
She clapped her hands together. "So, to summarise, we have the Martinez family Pedro, Jose, Enrique and Diego. Pedro was in the army and taken hostage along with Greg's father and three other men, Callum McPherson, OJ Williams and James Durrant, two of whom were dirty and now dead, two of whom survived and one who did not. Pedro's brother Enrique, now deceased, kidnapped the twins when they were newborns. Diego was released from Texas State Prison last year after a seven year sentence for drug possession. Jose and his brother in law Mario Lorenzo have been suspected of attacking us on several occasions – Sara and Eli this morning, Nick's house a few days ago, Greg's the day before that, and all of us at Christmas. We're not sure what they want, but we think it has to do with the death of Jose's wife and daughter."
Alyssa frowned. "What if...what if there was more than one motive?"
"What do you mean?" Morgan asked.
"Well, look at these records." Alyssa spread the files out. "And the details, gimee a second..." she flicked through Diego Martinez's file for a moment before nodding. "So, imagine this. Three brothers get together; have a little talk, maybe a few drinks. They talk about their problem. Diego, youngest brother, just got out of what he sees as a harsh jail sentence given to him by the judge, a certain William Stokes. Pedro's angry about being shot in Afghanistan; maybe he's lost the use of an arm, something like that. And Jose's family have been killed but the only crime the police care about solving are the murders he committed to avenge them. To make matters worse, their brother was murdered. And their problems all trace back, in one way or another-"
"-to the Las Vegas Crime lab." Catherine finished.
"That...adds a little perspective." Mandy nodded.
"But why go after Sara and Eli?" Wendy asked. "Unless maybe they knew them?"
"Not that I know of." Sara shrugged regretfully.
"You know, I think I'm gonna call Rosa and get her to stay in Texas a little longer, if we are being targeted, I want the ring of people as small as humanely possible." Nick said gravely.
"I agree. Lindsey deserves a holiday, putting up with Tricks and Trouble." Greg nodded.
"So what we need to do is we need to find these guys." Finn said.
"But we also need to get those kids home, I mean, they're exhausted, they're scared, they need some normality now more than ever." DB insisted. "And uh, Alyssa, Catherine, why don't you home with Greg, I'm guessing Mark's going with you too. That way the two of you can do your jobs, keep an eye on Greg, and all three of you have been travelling so you could do with some rest too. The rest of us will stay here, we'll call you if we find anything. Actually, Nick, you should go back with Sara, safety in numbers, okay?"
"That's fine with me." Sara nodded.
"Sure. I got Kristy's go bag in the car anyway." Nick agreed.
"Then it's sorted." DB nodded, and they all made their way back into the break room, right in the middle of a budding argument.
"...we have a granddad!"
"Well I have Hank!" Eli defended.
"I has Sammie!" Kristy added.
"Okay, guys, let's not get into another my horse is bigger than your horse!" Greg announced, clamping a hand playfully over Eli's ready-to-retort mouth.
Kristy gasped. "Unca Greg has a horsie! Daddy, why can' I hab a horsie!"
"Uncle Greg doesn't mean he really has a horse." Sara explained gently. "Its just a funny thing that people say."
"Oh. I still wanna horsie daddy!"
"Well, maybe when you're a little bit bigger you can have a horse." Nick said mildly.
"Bu' Nana said dat you had a howse when you where eben more smaller dan me!"
Nick sighed. "Really?"
"Uh huh. An' Cisco said it was the tooth. And dat he finks I should hab a horsie!"
"Uh, daddy's gonna have to talk to Nana and Cisco then, aren't I?" Nick raised his eyebrows.
"Daddy, can I peese go home now!" Loeila pleaded, her face almost pained. "I hungy and I tiewd!"
"Yeah, we can go home. Granddad, Catherine and Alyssa are coming too."
"I'll sleep on the couch." Catherine winked at Reuben. "I think your Granddad needs the spare room."
"You can seep in my bed." Reuben insisted, blinking his big eyes.
"Or, you can sleep in my other spare room! I have two now." Greg said proudly. "And the second has two beds."
"So Lyssa can stay too and not on da floor." Reuben added.
Alyssa had told the twins that they didn't have to call her mom, to which Reuben sweetly replied that they would call her Alyssa (or as he pronounced it Lyssa) until they knew what they wanted.
"We did it ouwselfs. And we'we decowating my woom now. Wit Lindsey. Daddy, whewe is Lindsey?" Loeila asked curiously.
"She's on holiday."
"But she didn' say goodbye!" Loeila's lip quivered.
"Well we'll just have to call her when we get home, won't we, Tricks?"
Loeila nodded firmly, holding her hands up to her dad, who swung her up onto his hip once more.
A few hours later Greg sat down on the sofa with his father. Catherine and Alyssa were both asleep, as were the twins.
"So what have I missed?"
Greg half smiled. "Well. Uh...quite a lot."
"Yeah. What about your work?"
"Uh. Well. Sara got kidnapped and left Vegas and married my boss Grissom. My friend Warrick died. Grissom left Vegas and Catherine became the boss, then Riley came and went, and Ray Langston came, and Sara came back, then everything got screwed up, Nick and Catherine got demoted, DB and Morgan arrived, then Catherine left and Finn arrived."
"Fun times. Has anyone else..."
Greg took a deep breath, knowing exactly what his father meant. "Nana Olaf died last year. Cancer."
"Daddy? What wong?" Reuben asked, watching Greg stare at the empty box of animal figurines that Nana Olaf had sent over.
"Daddy? If you wan' da toy back you can hab it."
Greg half smiled and a tear slipped out of his eye. "I don't want the toys, Reuben."
"Daddy, what bad?" Lola asked.
Greg took a deep breath and lifted her up onto his lap, pulling Reuben onto his other knee. "Nana Olaf can't come around anymore."
"Why?" Lola frowned.
"She got sick and now she's in heaven."
"Why?" Reuben asked, his voice wavering.
"I don't know." Greg admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't know."
"Don' cry, daddy. Is otay, is otay." Loeila murmured, leaning up to stroke Greg's hair. Overcome by the role reversal, Greg broke down.
"Yeah. It was quick."
"Oh god..." Mark rubbed his jaw.
"Have you called mom?"
"Yeah, yeah, she told me to go straight to Vegas, that she'd meet me there. Here. God, this feels like a dream."
"It's not." Greg said quietly. "I swear."
"Thanks, Greg." He smiled, putting an arm around his son. After not being anywhere near his son for eight years, Mark felt like he needed the human contact, and Greg leaned against his father with a small sigh. "You're a good dad, Greg."
"You're not a bad one yourself." Greg's mouth twitched into a smile.
"I shouldn't have left."
"You didn't have a choice." Greg said quietly.
"I love you, Greg."
"I love you too, dad." Greg murmured softly.
Suddenly there was a loud thud from the Reuben's bedroom where both twins were sleeping whilst Loeila's room was being decorated.
Greg immediately shot off the couch but by the time he had Reuben appeared at the door in his little monkey onesie, complete with tail and a hood with ears.
"Daddy?" The little boy rubbed his eyes and sniffed sadly. "Daddy, I had a nightmare."
Greg sighed softly in relief and picked Reuben up, peering into Reuben's room. Lola was fast asleep, dwarfed in the large single bed, curled up in the princess blankets.
Greg carried Reuben back into the living room, sitting back down with his dad. "What happened, Reubs?"
"De man. He came back, daddy. He hurted you and Lola and den he hurted me. He said he was gonna hurt everyone!"
The three year old lost all sense of composure by the last word, his body shaking with gasps and sobs.
"Reubs, Reubs, it's okay...I'm here, no one's gonna hurt you..."
"You said that in my dream!" Reuben wailed. "Den he hurt you!"
"Shh, sh... No one's gonna hurt me, Reuben. No one, okay? We're gonna be fine."
Greg pulled Reuben towards him and let the tiny boy cry into his shirt, soaking the thin fabric with tears.
"Sh, shh." He soothed, rubbing Reuben's back gently. "It's okay."
Mark stood up. "I might take a shower if that's alright with you." Greg snorted.
"Why wouldn't it be? There're some clothes and pyjamas on your bed you can use, we'll go shopping tomorrow, and I'm sure mom will bring some stuff."
"Thank you, Greg. Night Reuben, I'll see you tomorrow morning." Mark kissed Greg and Reuben on the head and
Reuben looked up and sniffed. "Nigh' nigh' Granddad."
"Yeah, nigh' nigh' Granddad." Greg grinned.
Mark smiled and walked away.
Reuben sniffed again. "Nana coming?"
"Yeah, she's coming."
"Ta see granddad?"
"And you." Greg smiled, poking Reuben's nose.
Reuben smiled and squirmed his dad's arms, squealing quietly as his dad tickled him.
Mark smiled at them for a moment before heading to the shower. A shower. God, it seemed like he couldn't get enough of them, after years of being denied any sort of cleanliness.
"Shh, Reuben!" Greg grinned, "You'll wake the girls up."
Reuben giggled quietly. "Bu' you tickle me!"
"Yeah, I did!"
A loud squeal of brakes followed by a crash shattered the quiet night air. Reuben screamed for a second and started crying.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Greg said, comforting his son, standing up to peer out of the window to the street below. A man got out of a dark car that was pretzled around a lamppost and sighed, pulling out his phone.
"It's okay, Reubs, the man just crashed his car. It's okay." Greg soothed, marvelling at how no one had woken up. He gently put Reuben down on the sofa. "I'm gonna go real quick and see if I can help, oka-"
"Daddy no go!" Reuben cried.
"Reuben, the man could need help."
"Daddy peese no go!" Reuben wailed, throwing himself off of the sofa into his father's arms. Startled by the genuine fear in his son's face Greg stopped.
"Okay, sh, sh, I won't go."
"Daddy no leave!"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Sit down den!"
"Okay, okay. Just a minute." Greg leaned out of the window. "You okay?" He called down to the man.
The man looked up, seeing the child in Greg's arms with a sheepish look in his face. "Yeah. I'm sorry I woke you and your kid. I nearly hit a cat. I'm fine."
Greg grinned. "Alright then." He closed the window and moved back to the sofa. "There, see."
"Daddy no leave!" Reuben murmured again, entwining his fingers in Greg's t-shirt. "You can' leave. I don' wan' you to."
"I won't leave you, I won't leave you."
The hairs on the back of Greg's neck stood up as if someone was watching him. He turned, and down the corridor he could see Catherine and Alyssa's door open a crack.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
A guilty looking Alyssa opened the door. "I'm so sorry, I just...I heard Reuben and I got worried and then..."
Greg suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for the woman before him. "That's okay. You don't have to apologise. And you don't have to see their life through second or third hand stories, or through tiny cracks."
"I don't deserve anything more." Alyssa smiled wryly. "I don't want to wreck-"
"Hey. Growing up without a parent sucks. And Catherine once said to a murderer that she would rather her child know a bad father than no father, and I think the same applies to moms. And I don't think you're a bad person."
"Lyssa?" Reuben asked softly.
"You shouldn't be scared to talk to your kid." Greg said firmly when Alyssa hesitated.
Reuben frowned. "Why you scared?"
"It's not important."
"Yeah it is. Daddy says if we don' talk bout scary fings dey scare us more."
"I never had a family, and I don't want to mess yours up." She said simply.
"Oh." Reuben frowned and nestled into his father's arms. "Well...I still fink you're pretty..." he finished with a soft sigh, and Greg and Alyssa shared a small smile as their son slipped into sleep.
Any good? Please lemme know, even though I took so long. More reviews should prevent a delay that long again, but life just got in the way :-(