A/N: Phew! It's sooooooo late. But I couldn't let another day go without updating. Yay?

First, though… THANK YOU, so very much, for your absolutely amazing reviews! It warms my heart that so many of you have joined this painful journey. (HUGS)

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

How to Break a Heart

/ Derek, still a little boy, had nodded off but woke up to the sounds of steps approaching their house. He glanced towards the clock and grinned with excitement upon realizing that it was the time when his dad was supposed to come back home. He dashed out of the bed and towards the front door. Only to freeze before he got there.

Because instead of his dad he saw a perfect stranger in a police officer's uniform, a large man with a somber expression on his face. And at that horrible, heart shattering moment he knew that his worst fear had come true. His dad was never coming back home.

When his mom broke to hysterical sobs he wished that he would've been able to do the same. /

/ Spencer knew that his father was leaving. But he couldn't bring himself to stop trying, not when his mom was crying in the bedroom and he needed to fix this. "Dad, you can't leave us. Mom…"

"I can't stay here anymore." The man met his eyes but only for a second. Was the man ashamed or disgusted? Or both? "Please, Spencer, don't make this harder than this has to be."

Spencer gulped, unable to understand. "I'm only ten!" he argued, failing to see the logic behind this. "I can't look after mom! Why won't you take me with you?" He tried to get closer to the man but failed. "She asked you to take me with you. Why won't you?"

"Because every day you sound and seem more like your mother." His father was already at the door. "I wouldn't be able to look at you without being reminded of how I failed her. And how I failed to raise you to be normal." The man opened the door and sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry, Spencer. But you two will always be my biggest failures in life. And I can't bear being reminded of it every day." With that the door was slammed closed, while Spencer's hand was still reaching out towards his father.

Spencer didn't cry after his father, on that day or on any day after. Five minutes later his hand finally fell. An hour more later he also fell, slumped to a sitting position. He sat there, staring at the door until he collapsed from exhaustion. His mom didn't leave the bedroom the entire time. /

/ Hank was already asleep when something brought him back to awareness. After a few moments of confusion he heard the voices and tensed up to a painful extend. His parents were fighting, most likely far more loudly than they imagined. Hank couldn't distinguish the words but the tones spoke clearly enough. And then something carried to his ears.

"That's right, be your father's son and leave us!"

Those words were met by the kind of frosty silence that seized Hank's breath. He waited with a furiously hammering heart. And then a door was slammed closed.

Curious and worried, Hank sat up and crawled his way to the window. He finally recognized the person outside when street lamps revealed the face. "Pa?" he called out. Even if he knew that the man wouldn't hear him from the window separating them. He frowned, a horrible feeling growing inside him. "Pa, come back!"

But his pa still didn't hear him. Instead the man wiped his face and hopped into a car, then drove off. He couldn't understand why the sight of the vehicle disappearing to the horizon made him cry.

Until the following morning when his dad explained, with beyond rare tears in his eyes, that there'd been an accident and pa was never coming back home again. /

Once Hank had a phone number, finding its owner wasn't much of a challenge. Fifteen minutes at the school's computer class and he had an address. What surprised him was the name.

Matthew Dahl?

Hank decided that he had a good enough reason to skip the rest of the school day. He had no idea what he was going to say or do. What to expect. He just knew that whatever it was, he needed to face it. Had to get answers. Because if there was even a small chance…

The emotional turmoil he went through during the bus ride would've been too much even for someone much older. Shock… Anger… Confusion… Disappointment… Betrayal… And desperate hope.

His pa left him and his dad. For years and years they grieved his death. And pa was alive, after all? Would the man come back home, if he asked? Did he even want that to happen?

Nothing would've prepared Hank for the impact of actually facing the man. Because the second he looked into those eyes, so much like his own, memories flowed through him a tidal wave. His pa reading to him while he lay in his bed, fighting against sleep. Those arms carrying him. He felt so safe, there in his pa's hold… That was what Hank remembered clearly, no matter how young he was when he lost it all. The warmth and safety. That voice, the one which always convinced him that everything would be okay.

"Pa?"

Hank had no idea which hurt more. To remember more than he'd expected. Or the look on his pa's face.

Moments passed by torturously slowly after that. They stared at each other, strangers although they were supposed to be family. Eventually his pa took a step closer, then another. "How did you find me? How l-long have you been sitting there?" The worry in those eyes was such only a parent could feel, somehow made it all hurt more. So close and so far…

"Why did you leave us?" Hank couldn't contain himself any longer. He was glad that it was raining because he wasn't ready to let the man see his tears. "Parents… They're not supposed to do that to their kids. Dads don't just walk away."

It was easy to tell how much those words hurt. His pa shuddered, and it took a very long moment before any words agreed to come out. "I promise you, I didn't l-leave by choice. I…" The man swallowed hard. "I don't know what happened, but… I know t-that it wasn't my choice. Nothing could've made me leave y-you or your dad."

Hank wiped his eyes although it was ridiculous with the rain and tears filling them constantly. His heart was hammering, so hard that he feared it might burst. For so long, almost as long as he could remember, his greatest wish had been to one day hear those words, to get back the parent he lost. But now… "I wish I could believe you", he murmured, feeling incredibly heavy and sad.

Obviously his words hurt. But his pa shook his head and the man's eyes were warm, sincere. "You don't have to. I don't expect you to. But… C-Come inside. We need to call y-your dad."

Hank wasn't sure if he wanted to enter the house. If he wanted anything to do with this man who was and wasn't his dad. But he was cold, miserable and suddenly exhausted. How was he supposed to refuse the invitation to warmth? He nodded stiffly, still unsure, and followed the man who felt like a stranger.

Facing what was inside… was bizarre. It all felt familiar, just a little bit. Something about the house's air reminded him of home. It all looked so right. Yet something… was off. Like a violin out of tune. (Hank should know. He'd tried to start playing four times already and it always sounded horrible.)

Hank stood stuck in the entrance hallway. One third of him wanting to run away, the second wishing to destroy the whole place out of grief-fueled rage and the final part wanting nothing but to curl up and cry. This was too much.

Before he could even begin to properly process what he wanted to do his pa walked into view. The man's hand shook while it pocketed a phone. "I… called your dad. H-He'll be here soon."

Hank nodded slowly and looked away. A million questions buzzed in his head, making it hurt. "He found out during the case." That was why his dad was so sad. That was what his dad hid from him. The feeling of betrayal was overwhelming.

"We… met accidentally." His pa sighed heavily, appearing every bit as uncertain and pained as he was. "I'm sorry…"

Hank wasn't ready to hear apologies. Not yet. Not when he wasn't sure he'd ever accept them. "You left us. You changed your name, and started a new life. In the same city. You…" He wiped his eyes angrily. "You didn't come back. That was your choice. You stayed away, like we didn't even exist anymore." At some point the tears started rolling anew. He didn't care. Not with how much he was hurting, from the bottom of his child's heart. "Did you… Did you ever really love us?" Every evening story… Every kiss to the top of his head… Every hug… Were they all a lie?

Tears filled his pa's eyes, too, even if none of them spilled. The man swallowed thickly. "I…" Another gulp, a choked one. "I stayed away, b-because… I had… an accident, and… I'm so sorry. I'm really sorry." Despite his own ache he could tell that his pa meant it, from the bottom of his heart. "But… I can't… I don't r-remember you. At all. And I… I wish that I did, more than you know, b-because you… you deserve more… You deserve better than…" The man gestured towards himself. "… this."

Hank had no idea how to handle all this. What to think. How to feel when he felt too much.

The slow, hesitant knock startled them both. Apparently neither of them had remembered to close the door because his dad stood by it, confusion and worry on his tired face. "What…?"

Hank hated himself for his decision. He'd been raised better than to be a coward. But he was only a teenager and this was far too much on him. So he ran, as fast as he could, from something he'd spent countless of sleepless nights praying to happen.

When the school called Derek to let him know that Hank was missing he panicked. Disappearing definitely wasn't something his son did. The terror lasted until he got a message from Spencer and everything clicked to place. And it hurt.

But not even nearly as much as what he found.

Derek heard Hank's voice shouting the second he climbed out of his car and tensed up. He'd never heard Hank raise his voice, not even when they fought. He didn't exactly want to enter his husband's new home but what other choice did he have?

Grief and hurt floated from the house in waves, as clearly as Hank's still continuing words. Followed by Spencer's agonized words. By then he managed to reach the doorway and felt his already shattered heart break just a little more.

The last time he saw his son in that much pain was when they thought Spencer died. Back then the grief was the silent kind, like Hank simply locked up a part of himself. No amount of therapy helped break those damns. Now they were all crashing down with force that seemed to be shattering the teenager.

And the sheer agony on Spencer's face… No matter how valiantly the man fought it was palpable. Like the genius was getting his heart torn to shreds.

The two people who mattered the most to Derek in the whole world were in unfathomable amount of pain and he had no idea how to help either one of them when he was also hurting far too much.

It took a long time before Derek found his voice. "What…" His son rushed past him. "… is going on here?" A car's door opened and slammed shut, signaling where the boy went.

Spencer swallowed thickly, his face terrifyingly pale. The man refused to meet his gaze. "I… I had to tell him, that I don't remember. That…" The genius closed his eyes for a long moment, then tried again in a barely recognizable voice. "That I… I'm not only a-alive, and stayed away. But that I don't r-remember him. At all. That his other parent… has no idea w-who he is. Not in a way that'd matter."

Derek sighed heavily, a horrific weight settling on his chest. With all there was in him he wanted to go his husband, to hug and comfort the man he loved. To whisper promises and soothing words of affection. And it was killing him that he couldn't. "I'm sorry. I thought that I'd have the time to break it to him…"

Spencer shook his head immediately. Still not looking at him. "Not your fault."

"Not yours, either", Derek pointed out. "Just… bad luck. A lot of it."

A tiny, very sad smile appeared to Spencer's lips. "That… sounds familiar. Somehow. Bad luck."

Derek was strong. He'd been forced to be, since he was a boy. But even he had he limits. And he couldn't resist the temptation anymore.

At first Spencer tensed up when he folded the man he once shared his bed with to a hug. But soon the genius practically melted against him, buried his head to his shoulder. There, holding the other even closer and inhaling the familiar scent that hadn't changed at all, Derek pretended for a few moments that it was all just a bad dream. The fight. Spencer's death. Spencer's return as a man who wasn't really Spencer. Derek convinced himself, for a few merciful moments of self-deceit, that he'd never have to let go of his husband again. He grabbed two fistfuls of the other's shirt and clutched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Held on desperately, for as long as he could. He even managed to trick himself into believing that Spencer held him back with equal despair.

For those fast ticking away seconds everything was perfect because Derek could almost, so clearly that it made him shiver, imagine…

/ How, instead of leaving on that fateful night, Spencer came back. Made his way to him and kissed him. Somehow heard the words he'd been supposed to say. "Of course I forgive you", the genius murmured in that bittersweet fantasy. "Because you two are the best things that have ever happened to me, too. I love you." /

Then both their phones received a text message, shattering the frail illusion and sending shards through Derek's heart. He cleared his throat and stepped away like his husband burned. Fought to distance himself, for both their sakes. "I, ah…"

"Go." Spencer wiped his eyes almost quickly enough for it to not be spotted. "He needs you. Look after him." It was easy to see how badly the man would've wanted to look after Hank, too. Comfort. Reassure. Support. But as it was…

Derek nodded, slowly becoming aware of how close to Spencer he still stood. Near enough for him to feel the other's warmth. "I'll talk to him. Try to get him to understand."

Spencer sighed heavily, and a ton's weight seemed to slump on the man's shoulders. "How are you g-going to do that, when even we d-don't understand?"

Derek had no idea so he didn't answer. He frowned and shifted, even the thought of leaving without his husband was unbearable now that the other was right there, so close and vulnerable. Needing help and support. "Are you sure…?"

"I'll be fine." Spencer's tone made it perfectly clear how little objections would be appreciated. "So go. And c-call me, if there's anything…" The man trailed off.

Derek nodded. Obeying instinct he leaned forward and almost pressed a kiss on Spencer's forehead before he could stop himself. His hand wasn't steady while he moved a strand of hair from the genius' eyes instead. "Take care of yourself." He had no idea what else to say.

"You too." Spencer's eyes strayed towards the house's door with immense longing. "Both of you."

Derek wanted to kiss Spencer. Promise that everything would be alright. But he couldn't. So instead he did the almost unthinkable and walked away. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

Watching Derek walk away was far harder than it should've been. That ache, however, barely registered with how much Matthew's head was hurting. Like his skull had been torn to pieces. He groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose, desperate to do anything that might make the discomfort lessen.

He didn't notice the tears that finally slid to his cheeks, his self-control shattering now that there was no one present to stay strong for.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he was able to grab his phone. It took far longer than it should've to get the message open. The second he did his blood ran cold. It was from Maeve.

'911'

When Derek made it to his car, slowly like his feet weighed a ton each, Hank was sitting stiffly on the passenger's seat. Seatbelt on and legs brought to his chest, looking away resolutely. The boy's whole posture told anyone looking to go away.

Derek sighed heavily and began to drive, wondering how any of them was ever going to cope with this.

Neither spoke a word. Nor did they leave the vehicle when Derek parked outside their house. The silence became heavy and loaded until it burst. "No more skipping school, Hank. And no more fiddling with my phone without a permission." He snorted at his son's surprised stare. "What, you didn't expect me to figure out how you found out and got his address? I'm a profiler, kid."

/ "… kid …" /

/ "… pretty boy …" /

/ "… love …" /

/ "… husband …" /

"Dad?" Hank's worried voice pulled him back from those razor-sharp memories. "You… zoned out a bit."

Derek chuckled. It didn't sound right. "Sorry. Just…" He cleared his throat and looked away, then back at his son. As firmly as he could manage. "No more running around without a permission, Hank. Ever. Of course you can go and see your pa…"

Hank shook his head instantly and looked away once more. "I'm never going to see that man again." It was said with the kind of finality that tore at them both.

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "He… has health problems, but he's still your parent. Why…?"

"Because he isn't pa anymore! He doesn't even have any idea who I am, he said so!" Hank didn't seem to be aware of his own tears. They shone as sun showed up after the rain. "He left us, and he should've never come back. I hate him."

Derek's chest constricted unhealthily. His mouth went so dry that it was a miracle he managed to produce a sound. "No, you don't. You're…!"

"Stop profiling me and listen to me!" Hank met his eyes with such that were so full of agony it would've been overwhelming for anyone. The amount of venom in the teenager's voice was crushing. "I hate him! Because even though he abandoned us you still love him so much that it's killing you! I have to hate him because you can't!" The boy didn't wait for his response, instead left the car and banged the door so loudly that it made Derek's ears ring.

Derek should've followed. Should've explained. But he couldn't. He was too exhausted, emotionally and physically. Until he wasn't.

In a fit of rage he didn't see coming he roared, from the bottom of his broken heart, and pummeled the steering wheel with his fist until the limb hurt.

Derek had no idea how long he'd been sitting there, gathering strength for pushing himself out of the vehicle, until he remembered the text. With a heavy sigh he rubbed his face aggressively with one hand, then fished out his phone. A jolt shot through him as he read the words.

'Just to let you know… You're being very irritating, acting all mysterious. But I still can't wait to see you today. And to finally find out what agent Morgan's big surprise is all about -Savannah'

How in the world was he going to explain his new situation to her?

Morgana sighed, then moaned from the stab of pain it caused, as she began to wake up. In an instant she recognized the smell of a hospital. The machinery around her was too loud.

She remembered her chest hurting, so mercilessly that it made her cry, no matter how much she tried to stop herself. Then Miss Potts, her favorite adult if her parents were excluded, calling out her name in fright. So her heart forgot what it was supposed to do. Again.

It'd been doing that since she was born. Once, when she was fed up with being in a hospital all the time, Morgana asked her parents why she had to feel so sick. Her daddy told her that it was because her heart was so full of love it broke. That it's difficult for a poor heart to keep beating when it's made of solid gold. The silly answer made Morgana giggle, no matter how miserable she was feeling. Since then she'd decided that she liked that answer a lot more than the one she got from the doctors, when she heard them telling her parents stuff that she wasn't supposed to hear. She couldn't understand those words at all but they made her parents cry. She didn't want them to be sad. It made her heart hurt even more.

"Morgan?" A gentle hand stroked her head. She leaned instinctively to the touch. "Are you awake, sweetie?"

She nodded the best as she could. "Yeah, mommy." She wrinkled her nose and bit her lip to hold back a whimper. "Hurts."

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Her daddy, who lay on her other side on the hospital bed, kissed her hair. It took away just a little bit of the pain. "Today's a bad day. Why don't you sleep it off."

Stubborn, Morgana fought her eyes halfway open. She frowned at the expression on her daddy's face. "You look sad."

He sighed and stroked her cheek with one finger. "I'm sad when you're hurting. It's a parent thing." He smiled, even if it didn't look right. "But tomorrow will be a better day, you'll see. So sleep."

"You know… Yesterday you fell asleep before I got the chance to finish the fairytale of Cinderella and Prince Charming." Her mother stroked her hair gently. It helped with the pain, too. "What do you say if I'd tell the rest of it now?"

Morgana nodded eagerly, wishing that she'd had the breath and energy for actual words.

Morgana drifted to sleep with the aid of the fairytale and pain medication, safe in her parents' arms. She wasn't worried about nightmares. Prince Charming would chase them all away.

The second Penelope opened a door for Derek, who'd come to pick up a strictly grounded Hank, she knew that things weren't great. "His Royal Sulkiness is taking a nap in the guest room. I exhausted him with chess." She winced. "That bad, huh?" She let him enter, but not before a hug that made him relax at least a little bit. "So you told Savannah?"

Derek sighed heavily. Then nodded. "Yeah."

"What did she say?"

"That she needs to think."

Penelope shuddered. It was her turn to nod. "Today's definitely been double cheese and pepperoni -pizza level bad."

For a microsecond something that might've been the ghost of a smile could be seen on Derek's face. "Make it pizza and 'Desperate Housewives' bad."

Penelope winced again with sympathy. Then gave him a spontaneous second hug. If he didn't look like he needed one she didn't know who did. "I'd better get the chocolate ice-cream, too."

An hour and a half later, numbed by fictional drama and so full of junk food that they felt sick, the two of them sat on a couch. Penelope's head was rested against Derek's shoulder so she heard every sigh he attempted to conceal. And eventually, after over an hour of not saying a word, he half-whispered, his voice a pained hiss. "What the hell am I going to do?"

Penelope sighed as well and kissed his cheek. "First, you take some more ice-cream. Then you sleep. Tomorrow you'll try to explain this whole mess to your son. After that you can start trying to figure out what the next step should be."

Was that a whimper? Derek shifted. "I just… I want him back. Properly."

A horrific pang of sadness flared in Penelope as she remembered the young man who used to be one of her best friends. His smile… His voice… Those facts… "I know. I miss our resident genius, too. It hasn't been the same without him." She squeezed his knee tenderly, trying to lessen both their longing. "You know what? It's time to bring in the big guns. Go and get us that chocolate cake I tried to make for Henry's birthday. It's hideous but at least it tastes good."

"You always come up with the best ideas", Derek declared while hauling himself up.

She smiled. "I love you too. Now shush, this is my favorite part of the episode."

Night had already fallen while Matthew and Maeve still lay on their daughter's hospital bed. Both exhausted but unable to sleep. Even the thought that something might happen while they were slumbering…

"Fifteen", Matthew whispered, breaking the thoughtful silence that'd lasted for what felt like hours. "That's how many times you've shaken yourself awake in the past half an hour."

Maeve responded by kissing his neck gently. "Stop counting. I'm fine." She kissed him again, this time to his temple. "How's the head?"

Matthew shrugged. "I'm fine." The headache was still hammering his brain to pieces. He'd survive it, he had before. But as he looked at his daughter, he wasn't sure he'd survive this. He gulped and pulled his wife closer. "What if… What if this is the time, when…?" When she doesn't go back home with us. What if this is it?

Maeve shook her head. "Not yet." She sounded so very sure, until she didn't. "She… She hasn't had that kitten she's been talking about. And she hasn't danced ballet yet." Maeve shook her head vigorously, her whole body trembling. "She… She isn't ready. Not yet." She broke down to the same bitter, soundless sobs she'd shed before. Too many times they'd thought…

Matthew held her the best as he could. Held both of them, even though it felt like handling quicksand. "Maybe you should call your parents."

Maeve stiffened. Then nuzzled her head against his shoulder. "In the morning." She grabbed his hand tightly, anxiously. The other hand was pressed gently to where their daughter's heart was beating.

Unable to do anything else Matthew kissed them both, then settled as comfortably as he could. His gaze was haunted as he stared at the shadows dancing on the walls. They'd had far too many endless nights like this before but somehow this one succeeded in being the worst. Because now he had two families that were suffering. Two children with broken hearts who were slipping away from him. And there was nothing he could do about it.

In the cover of the night five people, four of them wide awake and one sleeping more or less peacefully, shivered while their broken and breaking hearts struggled to continue beating.

TBC

A/N: So… Yeah. See how painful this is going to get? I need you be very, VERY brave for what's to come. BUT, remember that it won't hurt forever! (HUGS you all, in preparation of what's to come)

Those poor, poor people – so much pain!

How is the story going to continue? How much heartache is still ahead, before the story wraps to a close? Who will be happy, and who won't?

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.

Take care!

ripon: Angst indeed! And more to come. (winces)

I'll do my best to make it as clear as possible. I really hope that it won't be too confusing! (HUGS)

Colossal thank yous for the review! Until next time.

Guest: I'm SUPER happy that you've enjoyed the tale thus far so much! (BEAMS) We'll see just what's to come…

Gigantic thank yous for the review!