DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND ALL THE FLACK KIDS.

SPECIAL THANKS TO ALL OF THOSE ADDING ME TO FAVS AND ALERTS!

LOVE AND LOSS

"There's nothing I could say to you
Nothing I could ever do to make you see
What you mean to meAll the pain, the tears I cried
Still you never said goodbye and now I know
How far you'd go

I know I let you down
But it's not like that now
This time I'll never let you goI will be, all that you want
And get myself together
'Cause you keep me from falling apart
All my life, I'll be with you forever
To get you through the day
And make everything okay

I thought that I had everything
I didn't know what life could bring
But now I see, honestly
You're the one thing I got right
The only one I let inside
Now I can breathe, cause you're here with me."
-I Will Be, Leona Lews

Digging to China was a lot harder than Liam Flack ever anticipated.

It had all been Kieran's idea. Like most brilliant ideas in that house were. Big brothers always came up with the most logical plans and the coolest things do to when you were bored out of your mind.

Two weekends ago, when it had been raining enough to spark the second coming of the great flood and all six kids had been stuck inside the house under Kieran's watchful eye while mom and dad ran into Manhattan to catch up on work, Kieran had come up with the most hilarious, exciting idea ever. He went into the crawl space in the basement and unearthed one of the crazy carpets they used for tobogganing in the winter, and brought it up into the kitchen. Where he'd proceeded to coat the underside of the thing with a whole can of cooking spray and then carry it to the top of the stairs.

What had ensued next had been both insanity and pure entertainment. Two hours of each kid taking turns sledding down the wooden stairs and into the living room. They'd been smart enough to pad the landing with the throw pillows and the cushions off of the couch -the same couch that mom had just recently purchased and absolutely forbid anyone to sit on - but not smart enough to keep the music or the laughter down to a minimum. They hadn't heard their father's car pull up into the driveway, or his keys in the front door. They hadn't heard him hanging his coat up in the foyer closet or taking off his shoes. The only time they had been aware that there was someone else in the house other then the five kids parked at the top of the stairs and Liam lying in a heap at the bottom on top of the cushions, was when the music abruptly cut out.

Their father had appeared at the bottom of the stairs, glaring up at his offspring that were slack jawed and scared shitless at the sight of their dad. While Liam, six years old and precocious and adorable enough to get away with just about anything, lay on his back on the pillows and gave his father a toothless grin. His eyes and nose wrinkling.

"Hi, daddy!" he'd chirped, obvious to the hell that his brothers and sisters were in danger of enduring.

"What in the hell are you kids doing?" his father had asked, hands on his hips, furious blue eyes flicking back and forth between his youngest and his siblings.

"Tobogganin'," Liam had replied nonchalantly.

"It was Kieran's idea!" Alannah had been quick to tattle, the words barely out of her mouth before she and her sisters and Declan had went tearing off towards their rooms in search of a safe haven. Leaving Liam at the bottom of the stairs and Kieran attempting to act brave and tough at the top landing.

"You," their dad had said simply and crooked a finger and motioned for Kieran to come down the stairs to receive his punishment.

It was then that Liam had been truly and completely afraid. So afraid he'd been unable to move. All he could do was lie there on the cushions, his golden eyes wide and terrified, praying to God that whatever end awaited his oldest and bestest brother, would be swift and painless.

Their dad had laid his hands on Kieran's shoulders and looked straight into blue eyes that mirrored his own.

"I want you to put that crazy carpet away and clean those stairs. Get that Swiffer Wet Jet thing that your mother keeps in the pantry and go over those stairs really, really, really well. Understand me?"

Kieran had swallowed noisily and mumbled a "Yes, sir," and hurried for the kitchen.

"Am I in trouble?" Liam had asked innocently.

Of course, the answer had been yes. And it had been his job to put the cushions and the pillows back. And to try and get the streaks of cooking oil out of the khaki green fabric. To no avail. Resulting in a very tearful explanation to his mother over what had actually happened to her brand new things.

They'd all been grounded for a week. But secretly, when their parents weren't around, the kids had laughed hysterically about the incident and declared that it was the most fun they'd had in a long time. And more then worth getting punished for.

But the digging. The digging wasn't as fun as K had promised it would be.

Liam was tired and thirsty already. And he'd only been working at making his way to China for an hour. His older brother had told him that if he'd tried hard enough, Liam would make it to the Great Wall and back again by suppertime. And that if he was cute and charming enough, he'd be able to talk somebody into giving him enough free Chinese food to bring back for his entire family.

Liam had been sceptical. He was pretty sure that China was a lot farther away then Kieran was telling him. But K never lied and would never play a dirty trick on him. K was his older brother. His protector and best friend, and he wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. And Alannah and Reghan had agreed with him and it had been Reghan had been the one to go into the shed and grab mom's handheld shovel used for gardening and Alannah who'd packed him a snack and a couple of drinking boxes in a plastic shopping bag. And they wouldn't have done all of that if they weren't convinced that China wasn't that far and he could get there and back before dinner time.

The outlook wasn't very optimistic. Liam had been working steadily on his hands and knees since the moment he'd put the first hole in the ground at the farthest corner of the back yard. K had said that that area was closest to China and digging there would cut down on work, and travel time. So far, all Liam had found were rusted out toy cars that had been long buried.

"What'cha doing, Liam?"

He looked up from his digging. Smiling at his sister Mikayla who stood alongside of him, eating a small bag of tiny Ritz crackers. "I'm diggin'," he told her, stating the obvious.

"I know that," she said, holding the bag of crackers out to him. "But what are you digging for?"

"China," he responded and helped himself to some of the crackers.

Mikayla's eyes widened. There was no way that digging a tunnel to China was even remotely possibly. It didn't take an Einstein to figure that out. It was across the ocean for crying out loud. And even if someone could dig that far, it was going to take a lot more effort then a handheld gardening shovel and her six year old brother who was slight enough to blow away if there was a stiff breeze. But Liam looked like he was having a good time, and she didn't have the heart to dash his hopes, or downplay all his hard work.

"Why do you want to go to China?" she inquired, taking a seat on the grass.

"'Cause K said if I'm cute and charming enough I can get some Chinese food," Liam replied. "I like chicken balls."

"Daddy's not going to be happy that you're digging a hole in the backyard," Mikayla informed him.

"He won't mind," her little brother said. "Daddy will understand. He likes chicken balls, too. And so does mommy. So she won't be upset either."

"Well do you want some help?" Mikayla asked. "I don't think you're going to get that kind of tunnel dug all by yourself."

"I can do it," Liam argued.

"Not with mommy's gardening shovel. You need the big shovel. The one that daddy always tells K he's going to bury his dead body with."

"It's too big for me," Liam said.

"I can help you," his sister offered. "I'm bored. Alannah and Reghan and that new girl are hogging the television and that new girl keeps sitting beside K and touching his leg and rubbing her foot against his. I think she likes him."

"That's gross!" Liam declared. "Girls are gross!"

"I'm not gross. And neither is mommy."

"That's different," the little boy said, wiping sweat off his dirty brow with the sleeve of his t-shirt. "You're my sister and my mommy is my mommy."

"Am I your favourite sister?" Mikayla asked, holding out the bag of crackers once again.

"You don't call me names and beat me up and give me wedgies," Liam replied, dropping the small shovel and plopping down on the grass beside his sister as he reached in for some more Ritz bits.

"That's because you're the only boy in this house I like other then daddy," she said. "Even if you do always go in my room and mess things up."

"I just want to look at your stuff," Liam told her. "And read your diary."

Mikayla frowned. "It's off limits. I told you that."

"I just want to know what your secrets are," he said. "Are they bad?"

"No."

"What are they about?"

Mikayla sipped her Pepsi. "None of your business."

"I bet it's about boys," Liam said, lying down on his back and staring up at the blue sky. "That's all girls talk about."

"One day you'll have a girlfriend," his sister informed him.

Liam grimaced. "No way. No girlfriends. I already said they're gross."

"You'll meet some girl that's really cute and change your mind. I bet you daddy thought girls were yucky too until he met mommy."

"Probably," Liam said. "Daddy was 'spose to take me to the movies today. Daddy always takes me to the movies on Saturday."

"Daddy and mommy are at grandma's house. I think grandpa is really sick."

"Maybe he died and went to heaven," Liam said.

Mikayla frowned. "That's not very nice to say," she scolded her little brother.

"Grandpa is old," Liam said. "Old people die. It's what they do. They die and go to heaven. Like Papa."

"Papa Mac isn't dead."

"Not that papa! Papa Clint!"

"Not just old people die, Liam. Lots of people die. But I don't think grandpa died. Mommy or daddy would have said something."

"I guess," Liam sighed and sat up and reached for his plastic bag of snacks. "I'm thirsty," he declared, and shoving a dirty hand inside the shopping bag, pulled out a Cherry Kool-Aid pouch.

"We're going to have to start digging soon if you want to get to China some time today," Mikayla told him, taking the drink from him and unwrapping the straw and poking it through the pouch. "You know what daddy says about having to get in the house as soon as the street lights come on."

"You think the street lights in China come on at a different time?" Liam asked, accepting the drink from his sister and taking a long sip. "Because if they do, then maybe they come on later and daddy won't make me come in until the street lights in China are on."

"I think daddy means the street lights here, Liam," Mikayla replied. "You're weird."

"That's because I'm just like Uncle Peanut," he declared proudly. "That's what daddy always says anyway."

"I don't think he means that as a compliment," Mikayla snorted.

"What's that 'spose to mean?" her brother asked, frowning at his sister as she got to her feet.

"It means that you're strange," she informed him. "And not in a good way."

"I might be strange but you're ugly and at least I can get smarter and not so strange," the soon to be seven year old huffed.

Mikayla rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get the big shovel," she said, and headed for the shed.

"Do you think that we can get to China and back before the street lights come on?" her brother called after her. "Maybe daddy won't know where we are and he won't be able to tell us to come in. And do you think we should take some sleeping bags and a flash light? In case we get lost and have to stay over night?"

"I think mommy dropped you on your head when you were a baby," his sister told him and disappeared into the shed.

Liam reached out and touched the top and back of his head, looking for some sort of sign that his mother had done the unthinkable. He found no bumps, but did think that his head felt a little odd. He made a mental note to ask his parents about it later.

But first thing was first.

He finished his Kool-Aid and put the empty container in the plastic bag. Then crawled on his hands and knees to the hole he'd been working diligently on and picked up the gardening shovel once again.

He was going to get to China if it was the last thing he did.

Flack was thankful when his younger brother Chris had finally got his head out of his ass and decided that maybe coming to see their mother after their father's death was a good idea. Chris was, and always would be, a first class prick. He'd been laid off of more jobs then Flack had fingers on both hands. And those that he wasn't getting laid off from, he was being fired from because of his attitude problem, blatant disregard for superiors, and a dependency on alcohol that far surpassed anything Flack Sr or Jr had ever battled. Flack had sprung his brother out of jail more times then he cared to remember. It was better to go down and talk the charges down and cough up some money to get him out of there, then have his brother toss around their last name and then deal with the gossiping and bullshit that Flack knew would accompany the news that his brother was in lock up. Chris just couldn't learn his lesson. Whether it was for public intoxication or assaulting his wife, the guy just could not keep his nose clean.

Flack had been both disappointed and disgusted when his brother showed up at their parents' home a half an hour ago, dishevelled and reeking of booze. He looked like he'd spent the night on a park bench and smelled like he'd took a dunk in a vat of beer. And to walk in there as if he was being seriously put out by being asked to keep an eye on his mother had been enough to almost warrant a beating by his older and much larger brother. But by that time, Flack was just anxious to get the hell out of there for a while. All his mother wanted to talk about was the past. About her shitty marriage and the beat downs his old man put on her and the kids. About the years she'd suffered at his hands and how just when things started getting better between them, he got sick. And when she wasn't ranting and raving about her unfair treatment, she was pledging her undying love for her now deceased husband and crying as she looked over family photographs.

Chris had given them a hard time about leaving for a while of course. The guy was missing a sensitivity chip and he just didn't know how to deal with his mother when she was in that state. He'd all but chased his older brother out to the car, demanding to know why he was bailing on his family. To which Flack had replied that his family was at home. His kids hadn't seen their parents since bedtime the day before and they deserved to know what had happened to their grandfather. And he wanted to spend some time with his kids. Plain and simple. The funeral arrangements were complete and now their mother and her mental state were the only things to be concerned with.

That and why the hell his cell phone had been ringing off the hook all morning and afternoon.

"Jesus Christ," Sam complained, as she sat in the front passenger seat as her husband drove them home. She leaned forward and scooped the cell phone up from its resting place on the dashboard. "What in the hell could be so important that Max is calling you so much?"

"She probably wants to talk to me about firing Daria," Flack told her. "Ignore it."

"It's hard to ignore when someone is being that damn annoying," his wife said. "And you are going to have to give her some sort of explanation soon."

"What's there to explain? I don't want her as my son's special needs worker anymore. She did shit for him. Declan's no farther ahead then what he was before she became his worker. Kid is supposed to have someone that concentrates on his development and his speech and what not. Not someone that dresses like a tart and bats her fuck me eyes at my oldest son."

Sam's eyes widened at the harsh words that flew out her husband's mouth. She knew he was stressed and grieving over his father. But he'd never spoken like that about Daria before. He'd always considered her a niece. Max had always pushed the child on him as if he had to be some sort of stand in daddy. It had nearly destroyed their entire relationship. But he'd never once uttered a bad word about Daria.

"That seems a little harsh," she commented gently.

"Well it's true," Flack said. "You see how she dresses when she comes around the house? Little short shorts and tank tops with her goods practically hanging out. She's not there to help Declan. She's there to get into Kieran's pants."

"You made the decision to fire her, Donnie. And if you feel that your reasons were legit then…"

"They were legit. She's a useless little bitch and I don't want her around my kid. Plain and simple. I'm spending out good money for him to have a worker, and I damn well want a worker that is actually working. Is that too much to ask?"

Sam held her hands up in both self defence and surrender. "I'm sorry…don't have a freak out on me. I know your dad dying is kicking you in the ass, but don't take it out on the people that love you the most, Donnie."

"I'm not…" he bit his lip to prevent himself from snapping on her.

Because he didn't want to freak out on his wife. She hadn't done anything wrong other then expect a suitable explanation for him firing Daria. She'd been by his side and supported him through a lot of bullshit in the past fifteen years. And he knew that treating her like that wasn't fair. That she deserved better than that.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just really on edge and when I get on edge I talk a lot of shit. I'm not taking anything out on you, baby. You know that."

"You just need to…I don't know…you just need to relax, okay? You're not going through this alone. I'm beside you a hundred percent."

"I know," he said with a smile, and dropping one hand from the wheel, picked up on of her tiny hands in his own. "I'm sorry, Sammie. I didn't mean to snap on you like that. And I know that you support me through this whole Daria thing. I fired her because I didn't think she was doing anything for Declan. All she ever seemed interested in doing was flirting with Kieran."

"Seems to be a common occurrence with the girls that come around our house." Sam snorted. "In case you haven't noticed, your son is a very popular young man."

"Naturally. He takes after his old man."

His wife smirked and rolled her eyes.

"Come on, we knew he was going to be a heart breaker from day one. Ever since he was ten months old and giving Stella that little grin of his and flashing her those baby blues. Kid was destined to be a ladies man. Shouldn't be a surprise to you that the ladies are practically banging down our door to get to him."

"Well let them bang all they want," she said. "As long as they're not coming back in a couple months telling us we're going to be grandparents."

"Christ, can you imagine? I am in no way ready to be a grandfather anymore then he's ready to be a father. Kieran would not be able to handle taking care of a baby. The kid can't get his ass out of bed in the morning for school. How the hell would he manage to get up in the middle of the night for feedings and diaper changes?"

"He wouldn't. We'd be doing all the work. And now that we've decided to try our hand at the whole baby…"

"We don't need two of them in the house," he concluded. "So you know what that means, right?"

"Lock Kieran in his room until he's ready for college?" Sam asked hopefully.

"I was thinking more along the lines of buying him like a lifetime supply of condoms. But if you think the locking him in his room thing would work…"

"I can't believe you're willing to buy our fifteen year old son condoms!"

"It's better than him knocking someone up. At least I know if he's well stocked, I don't have to lie awake at night, worrying while he's out on a date, that whatever girl he's with won't be on the pill and then surprise a couple months later. He's got rubbers on him, then we know he's got no excuse."

"He's fifteen, he doesn't need an excuse. He's not thinking with his brain."

"Got nothing to do with age. He's a guy. Guys always come up with some lame ass excuse for not using them."

"I think in his case it would be something that got passed down from his father."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"You weren't exactly the poster boy for condom use when we were dating. And ninety percent of the time the condoms were less then a foot away from you and you still didn't think about using one. Because if you did, I wouldn't have gotten pregnant so quickly."

"You got pregnant because despite your Masters degree, you couldn't read the instructions for your birth control pills. That's why you got pregnant. You were all, 'Don't worry, Donnie'. I'm on the pill. Had I known you hadn't taken any for five days…"

"Ooops," Sam said with a giggle.

"Ooops. That's nice. Our first born was an ooops."

"In the backseat of your SUV," she added.

"There is no proof of that. We're just assuming that that's when it happened."

"We narrowed down the conception date to that day," Sam reminded him.

"Yeah…but how many times did we have sex that day?"

"Good point," she laughed. "Oh the good old days. When we could have sex as much as we wanted, wherever we wanted. And as loud as we wanted. Where'd those days go?"

"Long gone, babe. Somewhere between baby one and baby six."

"Jesus…that sounds insane when you say it out loud like that. When you hear yourself admit you have six kids."

"All goes well, we'll have seven," he said.

"Or eight, or nine. Could be triplets again."

Flack stared at his wife in absolute horror. "Bite your goddamn tongue, woman."

"I'm just saying. We've already had triplets so there's a greater chance of us having multiples again."

"I would seriously shit myself," he declared. "Then jump off the Brooklyn Bridge. Our luck, you'd go on fertility drugs and have sextuplets and we'd end up with an even dozen."

"Can you imagine?" Sam laughed. "That is just way too many kids."

"Lots of people think that six is way too many," he pointed out. "And you know, going back to what we were talking about with Kieran. He was an ooops. We can't deny that. He was definitely unexpected and unplanned. But he wasn't unwanted, Sammie. Ever. There wasn't a time I didn't want him."

She smiled and brought her husband's hand to her lips and kissed it softly. "He's still our baby. Regardless of his age. And the thought of him having babies…"

"Lifetime supply of condoms," Flack sing-songed, as he turned onto their street.

Sam sighed heavily. "You know the thought of him having sex is just killing me. And then there's you encouraging him."

"It's not that I'm encouraging him. In fact, I told him not to have sex again until he was with someone that he really loved and cared about."

Sam turned sideways in her seat and stared at her husband. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"What?" Flack inquired.

"What do you mean you told him not to have sex again until he was with someone that he really love and cared about?"

Flack bit his bottom lip. It had honestly just slipped out. He'd never intended to fill her in on his knowledge that their son had lost virginity at such a young age. Because he had known once he let that slip, there was no way he was going to be able to keep the rest of the tale from her.

"What did you mean by that?" Sam pressed. "Why did you throw the word again in there?"

"Would you believe me if I told you it was an innocent slip of the tongue?" he asked.

"No. I wouldn't. Are you trying to tell me that our son is having sex?"

He contemplated how to answer that. Because Kieran wasn't exactly having sex at that point in time. If you believe Kieran's account of his activities with Addie.

"Donald…" she glared at him. "What do you know?"

He sighed heavily. "Kieran may have told me that he's not a virgin anymore?"

"May have? What does that mean? May have? Is that what your fight with him was about?"

"Samantha, listen. He's fifteen. We should just be thankful that he's not out running with a gang or smoking dope or boosting cars and what not."

"Did he or did he not tell he wasn't a virgin anymore?" she asked.

Flack sighed once more. Heavier and longer this time. "He told me that he wasn't a virgin anymore," he admitted reluctantly.

"So he's had sex with Addie?"

Flack shook his head. "He says that he and Addie haven't sealed the deal yet. That they've done some other things, but haven't had sex. He said that she's a virgin and gets scared every time they get close to do anything."

Sam shook her head. "If it wasn't Addie, who was it? And when was it?"

"It happened a couple of years ago and he…"

"Thirteen?!" Sam shrieked. "Our son, our first born, lost his virginity at thirteen?!!!"

Flack nodded.

"How in the hell…I mean I know how but…with who? Did he tell you who is was? Is it someone we know from the neighbourhood? Someone he goes to school with?"

"It's someone we know," her husband told her. "She doesn't go to his school and she doesn't live in the neighbourhood."

"Then who the hell…" Sam's eyes narrowed as the pieces of the puzzle came together. "Daria? It was Daria? He lost his virginity to Daria?

"You should be talking to Kieran about this babe."

"I'm not talking to Kieran about this, I'm talking to you about this. You're my husband and you're his father! We created him together! He's our responsibility, Don! We're supposed to watch over him and take care of him and you're telling me he had sex when he was thirteen?"

"Kids are doing it a lot younger then that this day and age," he said.

"We are not talking about other kids!" Sam cried. "We're talking about our son! Our baby! The baby we had to fight so hard to even get into this world! He's not just some kid!"

"And he's not a baby anymore either," Flack told her. "He's fifteen years old. And I know it's hard for you to hear this, but he's not a little kid anymore. He's almost a man, babe. Three more years and he's off to college and out of the house. He's not that little toddler carrying around his Caillou doll and wearing light up Diego shoes anymore. He's not even the little boy that used to be scared of the dark and ask me to check for monsters under the bed and in his closet every night. He's growing up. Have you looked at him lately? Have you taken a good look at our son?"

"I have but.."

"He's not a baby anymore, Sammie. And trust me, it kills me to think about how fast he grew. Every day I look at him and I wonder where in the fifteen years ever disappeared to. And I think how I should have taken more time off when he was little to spend with him and how I missed so many important things in his life. All these little milestones and huge events that I missed because of work. I can't get those things back, babe. And it fucking eats me up inside to think of all of that. But at the same time, I look at him and I think, wow, despite all our issues, Samantha and I raised one hell of a kid and we should be damn proud of ourselves. And of him."

"He was thirteen, Donnie! Thirteen! You can't tell me that you think that that's okay! That means she was seventeen! What normal seventeen year old has sex with a thirteen year old?"

"I don't think it's okay," Flack told her. "I think it's far from okay. And she's not normal. She can't be for doing something like that. And that's why I had to fire her. Because I didn't want her around him. I did it for him, Samantha. I know that sounds stupid to you, but it was for Kieran."

"Why didn't you…"

"I didn't tell you because after my freak out on him, he agreed that he was going to tell you himself. And I was giving him the chance to find a time when he was feeling comfortable and confident enough to do that. He's fifteen, babe. He doesn't want to be discussing sex with his mother."

She sighed heavily and shook her head slowly. "I always thought my kids could talk to me about anything."

"I'll repeat what I said. He's fifteen. He doesn't want to be discussing sex with his mother. When I was fifteen, my mother was the last person I wanted to talk to about that kind of thing. And I couldn't talk to my old man. He was all but non existent all my life."

"So then who did you talk to?" she asked. "There must have been someone that you told stuff to. Someone you could go to with questions."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he told her.

"Oh I've heard some things already today that are pretty shocking. I don't think whatever or whoever it was could surprise me."

"It was Gerrard," Flack said, as he pulled his wife's SUV into the driveway of their home. He parked behind his own vehicle that Danny had borrowed. Messer's own car was out on the street.

"Okay…" Sam nodded slowly. "Maybe I can still be shocked and surprised."

"He was my father's best friend," he told his wife, killing the ignition and removing the keys. "He knew what a fuck up my old man was and he stepped up. Handled a lot of things that my dad was missing out on. He was always there, willing and ready to talk about anything. He was like a second dad to me. I think that's why he was so hard on me all those years on the job. He expected the best from me. And when I didn't give it to him or when he didn't agreed with choices or decisions I made, he came down on me pretty hard."

"And you know that that was his hang up, right?" she asked, unclasping her seat belt. "I mean you know that everything you've ever did or said was always in the best interest of your guys and the department."

He nodded. "There's a few things I'd like to go back and change," he said. "But life is full of things like that. Things we'd love to be able to go back into time and either alter or get rid of all together."

"We wouldn't be human if we didn't have some regrets," she told him, and squeezing his hand, made to get out of the car.

When she realized he wasn't following behind her, she slid back into her seat and closed the door once again. She looked at him, sitting there in the driver's seat, his hand to his chin and his blue eyes staring out the windshield at nothing in particular. Besieged by a million memories. Most unpleasant.

She reached out and laid a gentle hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair softly. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Flack nodded. "I just…I can't help but wonder if he hated me," he said in a quiet voice.

"Your father?"

He nodded again.

"The two of you talked about a lot of things," she reminded him, combing her fingers through his short, grey hair. "When K was born and your parents came to the hospital, the two of you sat down and talked long and hard. Cleared the air. Said the things you both needed to say."

"I know. I just…I never got the one thing that I wanted most from him. The two things I wanted most, that is."

"And those were…"

"I wanted him to tell me that he was proud of me. He always made me feel like I was the lowest of the low. That I shit all over him and his legend. That I wasn't living up to our family name."

"But you know that isn't true," Sam said, running her fingertips down the back of his head to the nape of his neck, massaging it gently. "You know that you far surpassed anything he ever did. That you've made this amazing name for yourself. You shattered all of his records and ones that he never held that were in standing for years. You worked your way up in a short period of time from a simple uniform to the Deputy Inspector, babe. You're only forty-five years old. That's an incredible achievement."

"But I wanted to hear that from him. I wanted him to tell me that. And I know that probably sounds immature coming from a forty-five year old man."

"It doesn't sound like that at all," she assured him. "You have every right to feel that way, Donnie."

"And you know what I wanted most out of all, Sammie? The one thing that I waited all my life for and never got from him?"

She shook her head.

"I wanted him to say he was sorry. I wanted him to look me in the eye and say he was sorry for how he treated me as a kid. For the things he did to me and my brother and my mother. I wanted him to tell me he was sorry for not coming to the hospital when I had my stomach blown open and nearly died. He always danced around the words, you know? He could never look at me and say them. And that's what I needed from him. And now I'll never get that and I just wish…" his voice faltered as emotion got the better of him. He kept the tears back and laid a hand over his eyes until he composed himself. "I just wish both of us had have swallowed our pride and said enough is enough. Let's cut the shit."

"None of that is your fault," Sam said gently. "You know that right?"

He nodded and sniffled noisily. "This is all a little repetitive. Didn't we talk about this stuff this morning?"

"You're just a little distraught right now," she told him, running her hand along his shoulder. "You've just lost your father. You can repeat all you want if talking about that stuff makes you feel better."

"It helps," he admitted. "Probably drives you nuts."

"Donnie, I'm the mother to six kids. I hear the same stories from them all day, every day."

He gave a small laugh. "You know what would really make me feel better?"

She shook her head.

"Spending some time with those kids. I don't do enough of that."

"They miss you," she admitted. "They wish you were around more."

"So do I," he sighed.

"You do a great job, you know. Balancing everything. I know it hasn't always been easy on you. All these kids to take care of. Tons of bills to pay. A demanding wife to put up with."

He smiled at her. "You've been the easiest part of the last fifteen years of my life," he told her.

Sam laughed. "You're so full of shit."

He laid a hand on the side of her face and kissed her softly. "Thank you," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"For what?" she asked, gazing into those amazing blue eyes that had captured her heart sixteen years ago. Eyes that still made her weak in her knees.

"The most amazing sixteen years of my life," he replied.

She smiled brightly and kissed him. "It has been pretty amazing," she agreed. "I mean, did you honestly ever see yourself with six kids?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Never in a million years."

"Me either," she admitted. "But I can honestly say that I picked the best possible guy to father half a dozen kids."

"Yeah…I think you did too. Considering how drop dead gorgeous they all are."

She frowned and slapped his shoulder. Then laughed. "You're a shit," she declared. "You were a shit when we met and you're a shit now. But I fell in love with you regardless."

"That was the easy part, huh? Falling in love with each other. We took to that pretty easily."

She nodded. "It's the staying in love that's been a bitch," she said teasingly.

"You'll love me forever, baby."

"Will you love me that long?" she asked.

"Even longer," he replied. He suddenly grew serious again. "What are we going to tell the kids, babe?" he asked.

"The truth," she answered. "We tell them that their grandfather died."

Flack nodded.

"And we tell them that he loved them very much," she added.

"There's no denying that," her husband said with a heavy sigh. "He never hid that from anyone."

Sam gave a small smile and leaned across the seat to kiss his cheek. "You're going to be okay," she said, rubbing his shoulder softly.

"I didn't think I'd feel this bad," he admitted. "After everything he'd put me through."

"He was still your father, Donnie. Regardless of everything else. You're going to grieve. And I'm going to be here for you while you do it. You'll let me do that, right? Be here for you?"

"Do I have a choice?" he teased. "I mean, you're my wife. We live in the same house."

"You know what I mean smart ass. You're not exactly known for relying on someone to help you through things."

"I'm the strong one, Sammie. Remember? I'm relied on to be the one everyone else relies on."

"Well guess what? Not this time. Let me be there for you for a change. Can you do that?"

He nodded slowly. "I can try," he said.

While Sam stayed inside and talked to Danny and Lindsay about the arrangements for Flack Sr's funeral -it was all quite simple. No departmental burial. No visitation. Cremation and a simple interment in the niche that he and his wife had purchased years ago at Gate of Heaven Cemetery in Flushing- Flack went downstairs and talked to his kids. Telling the oldest ones about their grandfather's passing. They took it pretty well. Kieran already knew and was dealing with his grief in that quiet, brooding way he'd inherited from his father. Both Reghan and Alannah, in tears, asked to be excused and headed to their room with their friend Alessa in tow. Declan asked a lot of questions. He didn't quite get the whole death thing yet. And his father tried his best to accommodate his curiosity.

By the time he'd gone back upstairs to find Liam, Sam was already comforting a sobbing Mikayla in the kitchen. Danny and Lindsay offered him their condolences and moved into another room to give the three of them some privacy.

"I'm sad, daddy," Mikayla cried and broke away from her mother and wrapped her arms around her dad's waist and buried her head in his stomach.

Sam moved away, trying to compose herself, heartbroken at her child's outward display of grief.

"It's okay to be sad," he told her, stroking her unruly hair. "It's always sad when someone we love dies."

"I wish I could have said goodbye to grandpa," she sobbed.

"No one got to say goodbye, pumpkin," he said. "Your grandfather was really, really sick and he wouldn't have known any of us were there. But he knew that you loved him and he loved you very much. You know that right?"

She nodded and sniffled noisily. "Can I make him a card?" she asked, trying her despair filled eyes up at her father. "If I make grandpa a card can you find a way to put it with him?"

"I'll do what I can," he replied.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I'm sorry grandpa died."

He bent down and pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "So am I, pumpkin. But he was sick for a long time. And it was his time to go. He didn't need to suffer anymore."

"I know," she said. "I think I'm going to go to my room for a bit."

"Okay," her father ran a hand over her hair and down her cheek. "You need anything, mommy and I will be here for a while. Okay?"

She nodded and headed from the kitchen.

Flack sighed heavily. "You okay?" he asked his wife.

Sam nodded and grabbed a glass from the drain board and poured herself some water from the tap.

"You know where Liam is?" Flack inquired.

"He's in the backyard. Apparently he's digging a hole to China."

Flack arched an eyebrow.

"I do not make this stuff up," she said.

"Definitely a Ross that kid," he teased.

"Liam…what are you doing?"

The soon to be seven year old looked up from his digging. Dirt coated his face and hands soiled his clothing. His hair, slicked with sweat, stood messily on end.

"Hi daddy!" he chirped.

"Hey, buddy. What's all this about?" Flack nodded down at the array of shovels and the care package of drinks and snacks.

"I'm digging," Liam said. "To China."

"Okay…why?"

"Because I want some chicken balls," the little boy responded. "And some fortune cookies. K told me that if I dug here, it was the closest to China. And that if I was cute and charming enough, I could get free Chinese food for everyone. Isn't that cool?"

Flack nodded. "You know that it's a long way to China, right?"

"Oh yeah. I know it's going to take a while."

"A long, long while," his father told him.

"I promise I'll be back before the streetlights come on," Liam said. "Does that mean the streetlights here or the streetlights in China?" he asked curiously.

"The streelights here," Flack replied. "And something tells me you're not even going to be halfway to China by then."

"If someone helped me I'd be there by now," Liam huffed. "Mikayla said it was too boring and went inside. And no one else will come out and help. They're lazy."

"Liam, I hate to break it to you, buddy. But it's going to take a long time to get to China even with help."

"How long?" the little boy asked.

"Well…I'd say, even if the whole family pitched in? Never."

"But K said that I could dig all the way there! He said that I could go there and get Chinese food for everyone! We have to eat, daddy! We can't starve!"

"I don't think we're going to starve. And you know what? If you want Chinese food that bad, I'll buy it for supper. Okay?"

Liam frowned. He looked up at his father, down at his barely there hole, and up at his dad again. "Is it really that far, daddy?" he asked.

Flack nodded. "It's too far to dig to. Mind you, if you're not careful, you could end up digging to the center of the earth and hit the lava core and get sucked right in."

Liam's golden eyes widened in both horror and intrique. "Right in?" he asked.

"Yep. And then the ground will close up and you'll have to live down there forever. You'll never get to come back home. And wouldn't you miss all of us?"

"I'd miss mommy," Liam said. "Lots."

"You wouldn't miss me?"

"Well…yeah…but I'd miss mommy more. She makes me toast and honey in the morning and reads the best bedtime stories ever. And she smells pretty."

Flack couldn't help but grin. "Yeah…your mom is something else, huh?"

Liam nodded.

"Why don't you come and sit here with me for a second," Flack said, as he took a seat on the grass. "I want to talk to you about something."

Liam crawled on his hands and knees over to where his father sat and scrambled up into his dad's lap. Soiled clothes and dirty face and hands and all.

"You know that your grandpa was sick, right?" Flack asked. "And that he was living somewhere where nurses and doctors were taking care of him?"

Liam nodded.

"And that sometimes people get so sick that nothing the doctors can do will ever make them better and…"

"Grandpa's dead, right?" the little boy asked nonchalantly.

Flack blinked.

"Like Papa Clint," Liam said. "He got sick and died too and went to heaven. Same with Slippers. So now both my grandpas are in heaven and so is Slippers and no one is lonely. Everybody is there."

His father nodded slowly. "That's pretty much it, Liam."

"That means that grandpa is never coming back and that he's an angel now. I know all of this stuff daddy. 'Member? You told me all this before."

His father gave a small smile and laid a hand on the top of his son's head. "You're a pretty smart kid, Liam Flack," he said.

"I get that from mommy," the little boy declared. "Is mommy home, too?"

"She's inside. You want to go and see her?"

Liam nodded.

"Go on," Flack said, and helped his son to his feet. "Tell her all about your attempt to dig to China."

"Okay," he chirped and planted a kiss on his father's cheek.

"Hey, Liam!" Flack called to his son as he raced across the grass.

The little boy paused at the bottom of the stairs.

"I love you," his father told him.

Liam smiled brightly. "I love you too, daddy," he said, and turned and rushed up the stairs.

Flack watched his youngest as he stomped across the deck and tossed open the sliding door.

"MOMMEEEE!" Liam cried happily. "GUESS WHAT?!! DADDY SAYS THERE'S A LAVA CORE IN THE CENTER OF THE EARTH AND I COULD FALL IN AND THE GROUND WILL COVER ME UP AND I'D HAVE TO LIVE THERE! YOU WANT TO COME WITH ME?"

Flack chuckled and shook his head. Amazed at the innocence and exuberance in which his son lived his life. And he thought about how the world would be a much better place if everyone could experience life through the eyes of a precocious six year old. Or six and three quarters as Liam liked to say.

Sure, the world and life was full of hurt and disappointment. But it was also filled with triumphs and great joy.

And love.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers. But please, please, please R and R folks!

Special thanks to:

Hope4sall

Laurzz

muchmadness

Forest Angel

Wolfeylady

Soccer-bitch

ImaSupernaturalCSI

HighQueenReicheru