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

Trust and truth

"Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don't you know you might find
A better place to play
You said that you've never been
But all the things that you've seen
They slowly fade away
So I'll start a revolution from my bed
'cause you said the brains I had went to my head
Step outside, summertime's in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out
And so, Sally can wait
She knows it's too late as we're walking on by
Her soul slides away
But don't look back in anger
I heard you say."
-Don't Look Back in Anger, Oasis

Mac Taylor could hear the arguing from the moment he stepped out his SUV. He had parked the vehicle behind Flack's, who, in favour of seeing his wife off to her own job that morning, had opted to work from home. Scagnetti, as Flack's immediate supervisor, had always been good about letting the young Inspector spend more hours in the home office than the one down at One Police Plaza. Especially when any of the children were sick and stuck at home or had vacation time off of school. The beating Kieran had laid on Dean Truby's nephew and his subsequent suspension had caused incredible friction within the house.

When Mac had called that morning to let Flack know what time he'd be there at -and requesting to keep his visit a secret from Kieran. He didn't want the fifteen year old to think he'd been set up and his 'grandfather' was there to ambush him - he could hear the tension and fury in the younger man's voice. Flack was about ready to strangle his first born, and Kieran was doing everything possible to infuriate his father. Whether it be smoking in the backyard -while Flack didn't approve of it, he had the nasty habit himself and told his son if he was going to do it, do it away from the house- or on the phone or internet with his girlfriend when both were completely off limits, or having a smart, foul mouth, Kieran was pushing every possible button. And without outside intervention, the kid was cruising for a bruising.

"I don't care Kieran!" Flack's voice bellowed from inside of the house. The front door and nearly every window in the house was wide open, enabling nearly the entire neighbourhood to hear the yelling and the door slamming. "Your mom and I told you that you're grounded! Two weeks! As long as you're suspended from school, your ass obeys all the rules!"

"But dad!" Kieran argued. "Alessa needed to…"

"I don't care what she needed to do!" his father yelled back. "Grounded means grounded you little shit! It means no phone, no internet, no Xbox, Game Cube, PSP and whatever the hell else you have! It means you park your ass in this house and you do exactly what I say! Understand me?!"

"Why are you being like this, dad?!"

"Why am I being like this? Are you fucking kidding me, Kieran?! Why am I being like this?! Maybe it has something to do with the fact you beat the shit out of someone and put them in the ER, maybe.."

"I told you he said some things and I…"

"And you knocked the hell out of him and put him in the hospital! There's no goddamn excuse for that! And now I have a lawyer on my ass! Because the kid's parents may not be pressing charges against you, but they're threatening to sue me! Personally, I'd rather see your ass in jail for awhile than have to shell out that kind of money!"

"Don't be such a prick, dad!" the fifteen year old screamed.

"What did you call me!" Flack roared. "What the fuck did you just call me?!"

"You heard me!" Kieran yelled back. "I called you a prick! 'Cause you are! You never listen to me! You never pay attention to me! It's always about Declan or Liam! It's never about me! It's never been about me!"

"What are you going to cry about it now?! You gonna cry, Kieran?! Are you going to sob like a baby 'cause for once you're finally paying for something you've done?! Because you're finally learning what it's like to be held accountable for something?!"

"None of this never would have happened if you hadn't have been a rat and fucked over Dean Truby!"

Silence fell in the house just as Mac headed up the front steps. He paused with his fingers curled around the handle of the screen door, preparing himself for what lay ahead of him.

"What did you say, Kieran?" Flack's voice was low and sinister.

"I didn't…I didn't say anything…" his son stammered.

"Repeat what you just said. You were man enough to say it the first time. Go ahead, say it again."

There was no response from the teenager.

"Get out of my face, Kieran," his father ordered.

"I didn't mean it, dad!" he cried. "I didn't mean it…"

"Kieran…"

"I didn't mean it!" the fifteen year old insisted. "I didn't mean it and I'm sorry!"

"Get the hell out of my face now!" Flack roared.

Mac heard the thundering of footsteps as they pounded up the stairs. Followed by a door slamming. Sighing heavily, he cautiously let himself into the house. Thanking his lucky stars that he'd been blessed with two girls instead of the headaches and ulcers that boys seemed to create. He was sure that Tiana and Chelsea would cause their fair share of problems as they got older, but he was pretty sure he'd be able to handle them a lot better then a teenage boy like Kieran Flack.

He found the older Flack pacing the living room. Casual in a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt and bare feet. One hand on his hip and the other over his eyes. Both hands trembling with anger. His chest heaving.

"Take it easy, Flack," Mac laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Not worth getting yourself worked up like this."

Flack snorted. "Not worth getting myself worked up like this? You didn't hear the things my kid just said to me."

"Actually, I did. I think anyone in a five block radius heard it. And you need to go somewhere and cool down. Go out in the backyard and get some fresh air."

"Have a few stiff drinks and call up the guys in the little white coats to come and get me and lock me away," Flack laughed dryly as he slipped his glasses back onto his face. "'Cause I am this close, Mac…" he held up his hand, his thumb and forefinger a half an inch apart. "…to either a mental breakdown or going up there and laying the beating of a lifetime on that kid."

"And what's that going to do?" Mac asked. "Other then earn yourself a visit from Child Protective Services? He's fifteen years old. I had a smart mouth at fifteen. And I know for a fact that you did, too."

"You didn't know me then. So unless you've been talking to my old man…"

"I know what you're like now," Mac said. "I worked with you for over two decades. And in two decades, your mouth got worse and worse. So I can just imagine that you weren't exactly an innocent, angelic alter boy back then."

Flack grinned and shook his head. "I was an altar boy actually," he laughed. "But innocent and angelic I was not."

"We all had smart mouths as teenagers," Mac said. "We've all, at one point in our lives, cursed out our parents and called them awful names. Maybe not to their face in order to spare us a beating or two…"

"Kid's got balls," Flack sighed. "I'll give him that. If I ever said that shit to my dad? My dad would have tanned my ass five times over. No warnings, no nothing. With K, no matter how much I yell and scream at the kid, nothing seems to straighten him around. Yet I can just look at the other ones a certain way and they know I mean business."

"He's stubborn and strong willed," Mac said. "He's not afraid to stand up for himself, or what he believes in. Who does that remind you of?"

"His mother?" Flack asked. "You ask me, that's her to a tee."

"I was thinking more along the lines of you," Mac told him. "But come to think of it, you and Samantha are a lot alike personality wise. So it shouldn't be any surprise that Kieran is the way he is. He's got a huge dose of attitude from both of his parents. It's just getting control of that attitude while he's young. So he doesn't get himself into deeper water then he already is."

"I seriously don't know how much deeper he can get, Mac," Flack said, shaking his head. "He messed that kid up something fierce. They're not going to press charges but the parents have contacted a lawyer about suing for damages."

"Have you called your own lawyer?"

Flack nodded. "He said that my best bet, if I do get served on the matter, is to counter sue for libel and slander 'cause of what the kid said."

"Misplaced hero worship on his part maybe," Mac reasoned. "Probably has never been told the whole story about his uncle. All he knows is that Kieran Flack's father helped put his uncle in jail. He probably doesn't know that this uncle of his was also a cold blooded murderer who stole drugs from an NYPD raid and was selling them on the streets."

"Probably not. But that doesn't give him the right to say shit like that to my kid, Mac. He's just damn lucky he didn't mouth off about Sammie. Because you know the bond between her and K. K would defend his mother to the death, no ifs, ands, or buts."

"And he'd do the same thing for you, Flack. You're his father."

"I'm just some insensitive prick that doesn't care about him," Flack snorted. "Never mind that I almost died trying to get him back to his mother. Never mind that I'd gladly lay down my life for that kid. All he sees me as is the asshole who doesn't listen to him or understand him."

"Have you ever tried listening to him?" Mac asked. "I know teenagers can be damn hard to understand at times…"

"I have tried everything with him. Everything. But the second I disagree with something he says, he just goes off the deep end. Accuses me of being unfair and judgemental and not being happy about anything he does."

"Are you disagreeing with him or are you criticizing him?" inquired Mac.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Flack asked defensively.

"Do you say to him, 'Kieran, I disagree with you and this is why'? Or do you say 'that's the biggest bunch of bullshit I've ever heard'?"

Flack thought about it for a moment. "I guess it's a lot of both," he admitted reluctantly.

"What you need to do is spend some time with one. One on one, father and son time. A chance for the two of you to do something together. No other kids fighting for your attention. No cell phone and work responsibilities interrupting you. Just you and Kieran."

"He doesn't want to spend time with me, Mac," Flack said. "He thinks I'm a prick. You heard him."

"I also heard him, near tears, say that it's always about Liam or Declan. That it's never been about him. He wouldn't just say that if he's not feeling it. And I think the two of you spending some time together, would do both of you a world of good."

Flack nodded solemnly. "You're probably right," he said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Mac asked, a smirk on his face as he brought his hand up to cup his ear. "What did you just say?"

Flack grinned.

"Could you repeat that?" Mac teased. "Because I must have imagined something. I thought for sure that was a 'you're right' that slipped out of Don Flack Junior's mouth."

"I didn't say you were right," Flack laughed. "I said you're probably right. There's a difference."

Mac chuckled and laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You and Samantha have done a hell of a job with all of your kids. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. No one said that raising children was an easy feat. Especially teenagers. And you've got four of them under one roof."

"Insane," Flack said, shaking his head. "Absolute bat shit insanity when you think about it that way. I just…I want my son back, Mac. That little boy that smiled and giggled all the time. That chased his shadow and loved to run around in circles until he got dizzy and would fall down. Just for one day, I wish I could go back to when he was a baby. Or a toddler. Spend some more time with him. I never spent enough time with him or Sam. I missed out on a lot of important things. 'Cause of the job. His first steps, his first word, his first day of school. Moments I can't get back, you know? I always think, if I'd just given less to the job and more to him and Sammie, maybe things wouldn't be this way. Maybe Sam and I wouldn't have had the problems that we did. If I'd just told her I loved her more and appreciated her more…"

"We all have regrets, Flack," Mac told him. "It's been twenty five years since September eleventh. And even though I moved on with my life, marrying Stella, having two children, there's still a part of me that misses Claire terribly. And sometimes, when I'm in one of my moods and she crosses my mind, I think about how I should have convinced her to stay home that day. I had the day off and I remember thinking the night before that I should talk her into calling sick and spending the day with me. I never did. And look what happened."

"You had no idea what was going to happen, Mac," Flack said. "It just happened. No rhyme or reason to it. It just did."

"Just like you had no idea the problems that you and your wife would have in the future. No one knows what's going to happen day by day, let alone year by year. And that's a good thing. Because if we knew what was laid out of us ahead of time, we'd be too afraid to take chances, to try something new. And how boring would life be if we lived it that way?"

Flack arched an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side as he observed Mac. "That's pretty deep," he said. "Do you lie awake all night and think about stuff like that or does it just pop into your head?"

Mac grinned. "When you're retired, you have a lot of time to sit and think about things," he joked. "How are things at the department?"

"Same shit, different day. Budget cuts, complaints against the department, scheduling problems, you name it and we're dealing with it. I'm just glad I can work from home every so often. Feels less stressful when you're away from this office. And there's this intern," Flack shook his head. "She's a royal pain in my ass. Won't follow dress code, won't listen to a thing anyone has to say. And I don't know if it's just her personality and she flirts with everyone, but she makes me nervous as all hell whenever she's around me."

"Have you mentioned it to her? Maybe asked her to stop being so friendly?"

"What's that going to do?" Flack asked. "Seriously. I insinuate the wrong thing and I'm getting a sexual harassment complaint dumped on my head. That I do not need. If I just ignore her, avoid being alone with her, then I have nothing to worry about. 'Cause I seriously do not need shit like that in my life, Mac. You know what Sam would do if something like that ever happened? If some woman ever accused me of being inappropriate with her?"

"You mean other then believe you over a complete stranger?"

"She'd freak, Mac. Absolutely freak. And she doesn't need to be getting upset. Especially now."

Mac's eyes narrowed at the last two words that came out of Flack's mouth. "Especially now?" he asked curiously.

"We've just got some things going on. Between us," Flack explained. "Good things. Really, really good things and I don't want anything screwing that up for us. For our entire family, actually."

"You want to elaborate just a bit?"

Flack sighed. "We haven't told anyone else. We haven't even told the kids yet. We're still figuring out how to tell them. That and we're waiting to get Sam into the specialist to make sure everything is okay."

Mac waited patiently for an explanation.

"You remember how we were going to that fertility specialist? To see if it was remotely possible that Sam was able to get pregnant? That if the menopause wasn't too far gone we were going to get the tubal ligation reverse and then see what next step was the most beneficial for us?"

Mac nodded.

"Turns out we didn't need it. Sam's body went all psycho some time in the past four plus months and decided to either undo it's own tubes or scar tissue form a whole new tube…."

Mac arched an eyebrow.

"I know. Sounds pretty damn far fetched, doesn't it? Well something happened. 'Cause the fertility specialist called her yesterday and told her that there wasn't anything he could do for us. Because her blood work and urine test showed that she's already pregnant."

The older man's eyes widened in surprise.

"I know," Flack laughed. "Pretty surreal, huh? I nearly shit myself when Sam told me. Certainly not what you expect to happen seven years after your wife gets her tubes tied. But I went on the 'net afterwards and there's tons of stories of this kind of thing happening. Even a decade later."

"And both of you are happy with this unexpected turn of events?" Mac asked.

"Beyond happy," replied Flack. "I can't even describe to you how I feel about this. Just that it's incredible and it obviously happened for a reason. An unexpected blessing."

"Congratulations," Mac said, and embraced the younger man warmly. Long ago their private relationship had far surpassed simple handshakes and pats on the shoulder.

Two decades of working together and nearly fifteen years of their families spending holidays and birthdays and vacations together, not only had Mac Taylor and Don Flack formed an incredible respect for each other, but an impenetrable bond. Not only had Mac been a mentor of sorts and the man who'd saved Flack's life, but he had become a father figure of immeasurable proportions.

"We're excited," Flack said, a genuine smile from ear to ear. "I mean, we never thought this was going to happen. We thought we'd have to get the reversal done, probably pay for in vitro a couple of times over. Who knew she was already pregnant and things were going to be so easy?"

"If I've learned anything in the past sixteen years since I hired Samantha, it's that when it comes to you two, anything is possible," Mac chuckled. "I'm happy for you, Don. For both of you. A new baby is always an exciting time."

"I just worry about our ages, you know? Like I'm forty six. Sammie's forty nine tomorrow. We're no spring chickens, Mac."

"Stella was your age when Tiana was born and I was already a year older than Samantha," Mac reminded him. "And we've managed so far. We even had another baby and I was already into my fifties."

"I know that. It's just…" Flack sighed. "Declan. We were young when he was born. I was only thirty two. All my life I thought kids with Down Syndrome were only born to parents over forty. Then it happened to us in our early thirties. Our chances then were one in eight hundred. Now with Declan and our ages, it's one in three. And that's a little…"

"Frightening?" Mac finished.

"Just a little," Flack admitted. "And I love my son more than life itself. You know that. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him. Whatever he needs, I get it for him. But to do all that over again? I don't think I could do it."

"Have you and Samantha decided what you're going to do if that's the case?" asked Mac.

The younger man shook his head. "We just know that we're going to have every test imaginable. After that, if there's a problem…" Flack shrugged as his voice trailed off.

"Try not to think the worst and try to expect the best," Mac told him.

"We haven't told anyone else. Not even the kids. So if you don't mind…"

"You're secret is safe with me. So it's okay if I take Kieran out for a while?"

"You can try," Flack sighed. "He doesn't even know you're coming. He's up in his room and if you think you can get through to him…"

"I'll try my best. What you need to do is cool down a bit. Re-think the way you're going about things with him. Because obviously Don, it's not working."

"Obviously," Flack smirked. "You know, Sam said the same thing. About me and K needing alone time."

"Well great minds do think alike," Mac said with a grin. "He's fifteen, Flack. Think back to what you were like at fifteen and ask yourself if you were any different."

"I couldn't talk to my old man like that. I would have been handed my ass. Now kids are taught in school to call the cops if their parents lay a hand on them. And people wonder why the hell teenagers are the way the are."

"Kieran's going to be okay," Mac assured him. "He just needs some guidance. Someone he can confide in. And if he sees me as the one he can do that with…"

"He loves you, Mac. You know that. You're a grandfather to him. If he's going to listen to anyone, it's going to be you."

"Let's hope so," Mac said, and headed for the kitchen door.

"If he gets smart, I give you permission to go all Marine Mac on his ass," Flack called out.

Mac smirked at the younger man before disappearing into the next room.

Good luck, Flack thought. 'Cause you're going to need it.

Less than an hour later, Mac Taylor found himself sitting in a window booth at Flannigan's, a family style restaurant in downtown Flushing, Queens that was famous for their all day breakfast and what was touted as the 'best damn cheeseburgers in all five boroughs'.

As they waited for the waitress to bring their orders, Mac nursed a black coffee, three sugar while Kieran sat across from his, using a straw to stir is impossibly thick chocolate mint flavoured milkshake. A pastel green concoction that had been introduced at St. Patrick's Day but the owners had kept around because of it's incredible popularity.

The teenager hadn't spoken more than a handful of words since they'd left the house together. They'd walked as opposed to taking the car. Mac had thought maybe the twenty-five minutes it took to get to Flushing's downtown core from the Flack house would have been enough time to get his 'grandson' to open up. Mac had tried gentle coaxing. Telling the boy that whatever he said was strictly between them. It wasn't going to get back to his parents, and Mac wasn't going to judge him or criticize him. In fact, if K didn't want him to speak, he wouldn't. Just as long as he talked about what was going on in his head. Mac had gotten nowhere. Kieran had just continued to walk with his chin to his chest and his hands shoved in his pockets. Too proud and way too damn stubborn to let anyone even attempt to help him.

Just like his father.

They sat there together in the quiet restaurant, listening to dishes clattering and the cooks talking in the back kitchen and the waitresses filling the salt and sugar shakers at empty tables. and the occasional ding of the old fashioned cash register on the counter by the front door. An overhead speaker system piped in soft music. Instrumental versions of the hits of today and yesterday.

And as Mac sipped his coffee and watched his young charge from across the table, he realized -and not for the first time in fifteen years- how much Kieran Flack did take after his father. Personality aside, Kieran was a near spitting image of his dad. And sitting there, with his blue eyes downcast, Kieran looked so sad and so alone. A mirror image of what his father had looked like over 17 years ago when Mac had arrived at the twelfth precinct to arrest Dean Truby. The look that had been on the elder Flack's face at that moment as he watched it all go down. The hurt and the disappointment and the profound sadness. He'd looked like a lost little boy stuck in a grown man's body.

The same expression that his fifteen year old son now wore on his handsome, boyish face.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Mac asked, finally breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" Kieran asked in return, his voice a near whisper.

"I mean do you want to tell me what's going on with you lately," Mac replied. "I get home yesterday and my daughter tells me about this massive fight you were involved in at school. I called your place to check on you and had a long talk with your dad…"

Kieran rolled his eyes at the mention of his father.

Mac glared at the teenager. A silent reminder that attitude of any kind was not going to be tolerated in the least. "He told me some very disturbing things Kieran," he continued. "That you injured this boy so bad that he needed to be taken to the hospital. Where apparently he's going to be spending at least a week."

Kieran shrugged.

"Do you think that's funny?" Mac asked. "Does it make you feel like a big man to know you hurt someone to that degree?"

"He deserved it," Kieran replied simply and took a sip of his milkshake.

"He deserved being put in the hospital?" Mac asked, trying to keep the anger from creeping into his voice.

The fifteen year old nodded.

"He deserved you breaking his orbital bone and his nose and tearing his sinus cavities? He deserved busted ribs and a massive concussion and a shattered jaw?"

Kieran nodded again.

Mac nodded slowly as he let the information, or lack there of, absorb. "You want to tell me what he did that you feel warrants being knocked around like that?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about that," Kieran replied.

"Well let me make something very clear to you, Kieran," Mac felt the frustration bubbling inside of him. "I told you're dad that I was going to try and talk some sense into you. And we can sit here all day playing this back and forth game and you can be evasive all you want. You're going to tell me yourself what this kid said to you or I'm calling the principal myself and getting to the bottom of it. Either way, I'm finding out. So you can either make the situation worse by playing these games with me, or you can man up and tell me yourself. What's it gonna be?"

Kieran sighed heavily and went back to stirring his milkshake.

"You may think that it makes you tough and makes you all grown up to manhandle someone like you did. But it takes a tougher man and more mature man to admit when he did something wrong. To own up to his mistakes. To be able to turn the other cheek and solve things with his mind and his words instead of with his fists."

"My dad always taught me to stick up for myself," Kieran informed his grandfather. "To not let anyone push me around."

"I doubt he meant you were to put someone in the hospital," Mac said. "And there's sticking up for yourself and there's going overboard. And you went way overboard."

"You have no idea the stuff he said to me," Kieran told his grandfather.

"It doesn't matter what he said," Mac said angrily. "It matters how you reacted. Which was damn poorly."

Kieran sighed. "I knew you wouldn't understand. You're just like my dad sometimes."

"Your dad is worried about you, Kieran. And so am I. Do you realize what you've done? Do you realize how doing something so stupid and reckless could affect your future? Your father wants nothing but the best of you and you seem hell bent on going in the opposite direction. Don't expect me to sit here and condone what you did. I don't care what this kid said, you should have been the bigger man and backed down. You should have walked away."

"I tried to Papa Mac!" the teenager cried. "I tried to walk away! He's been on me for months and I tried handling it in a better way! I told the teachers he was picking on me and they didn't do anything about it! They told me to suck it up. Be a man about it."

"And your parents are going to make sure the school board knows about that, trust me. But that doesn't mean what you did was right, Kieran."

"He called my dad a rat. Said that he was a shit off cop and a disgrace to the badge. And that he should have done the department a world of good and just died in that explosion. And that I was a waste of space being born and that I deserved what that pervert did to me! I wasn't going to put up with that shit!"

"If you were going to hit him, why not one punch? One punch to just shut him up? Why did you have to go to the extremes that you did?"

"I don't know!" Kieran exclaimed. "'Cause I do stuff like that sometimes! I get so pissed off that I just snap and lash out. Half the time I don't even know what I'm doing. It's like I become this completely different person. That I'm not even inside myself. I know that sounds stupid but it's true. And afterwards sometimes I don't even remember why I did it. Or even that I did do it!"

"Have you ever told your mom and dad that you feel that way?" Mac asked, a number of anger related disorders springing to mind as Kieran spoke.

"Mom and dad know that I get pissed off easily. That things make me snap. Little things sometimes. Mom just says that I'm just like dad and dad just says I'm just like mom. And that I need to knock it off before he knocks me out. He just doesn't get it. He doesn't understand anything!"

"And why do you think he doesn't understand, Kieran?"

"I don't know," the boy huffed. "'Cause he's a massive asshole?"

Mac frowned. "Listen to me very, very careful, Kieran. I love you. You know that. But I also love your father and respect him tremendously. And you'll show him some respect and never, ever talk like that about him in front of him, or in front of anyone else, ever again. Understand me?"

Kieran nodded and looked down at the table once again.

The waitress brought over their foods. Double cheeseburgers with the works with heaping side orders of fries and gravy. She did little more than smile as she set the foot down and headed off to tend to other duties.

"I think there's some things that we need to talk about," Mac told him. "That you need to hear the whole story about. And the first and foremost thing, is what happened the night that you're father put his life on the line to get you back from Dean Lessing."

"I already know about all of that," Kieran said, and bit into his cheeseburger.

"Well let's see if the version you have in your head is the same version I'm about to tell you," Mac retorted angrily. "Your father agreed to meet Dean Lessing that night, using the ruse that he was there to say goodbye to you. That he was handing you over to Lessing so he could turn you into a soldier. Because as far as Lessing was concerned, you were nothing short of miraculous because you were the off spring of the man who'd survived his first experiment. Your dad managed to convince Lessing to let you go in exchange for himself. Your father was supposed to put you in your car seat and say goodbye to you and then give word to the Swat team to move in. Only he never got that chance. Do you know why?"

Kieran shook his head.

"Because Dean Lessing realized it was a trick. Because your dad had agreed to bring your mother along. It was one of Lessing's demands. That both your parents be there. Only your father had to commit your mother into the hospital because she was so devastated with what had happened to you. And when Lessing found out that the undercover officer in that truck wasn't your mother? He told your father to say goodbye to you and get down on his knees with his hands behind his head. Because he was going to execute your dad right in front you."

Kieran swallowed noisily.

"Your father fought with Dean Lessing to save not only himself, but you and your Aunt Lindsay who was pretending to be your mother. Your dad took a hell of a beating that night. It damaged his eyesight permanently. He had busted ribs, a massive concussion just to name a couple of injuries. And he was shot. I bet you didn't know what part, did you?"

The fifteen year old shook his head.

"Your Aunt saved your father's life that night. She shot Dean Lessing. Only the bullet passed through him and hit your dad. It wasn't a serious wound, but it damn well could have been. And then what Kieran? Then what would have happened? You would have had no father and your mother wouldn't have had a husband. Would you have wanted that?"

"Of course not," Kieran whispered.

"Your father did all of that for you. And for your mother. And for you to sit here in front of me and disrespect him like you have been? That I will not tolerate. Your father is a hell of a cop and an even better man. And you should be hoping and praying that you fill even half of his shoes one day. Your father loves you Kieran. He's always loved you. You're his first born. And he wants so much for you. And all you're doing is self destructing and ruining your future. Don't you see that? Don't you realize how much he cares about you?"

Kieran nodded. "I know my dad loves me," he said. "It's just some times he acts like he doesn't like me very much."

"And do you think you've been acting as if you like him very much?" Mac asked.

The teenager shook his head.

"The two of you need to sit down and talk about things," Mac said. "Just you and your dad. Find some common ground. Tell him about how you're feeling."

Kieran looked at his grandfather as if he'd lost his mind. "You don't talk to my dad about feelings. You just don't. Dad doesn't talk about stuff like that."

"And how do you know that, Kiearn? Have you ever tried talking to him about stuff like that?"

He shook his head.

"I think you should give your dad a chance," Mac suggested. "I think you should sit down and talk to him. Man to man. You'll be pleasantly surprised, trust me."

The two lasped into a comfortable silence. Eating their meals as Mac occasionally glanced across the table at the young man lost deep in thought.

"What are you so angry about Kieran?" Mac asked at last. "When it comes to your dad. What are you so angry about?"

"I don't know…I just know that I'm pissed at him. And I have been for a really long time."

Mac wiped his mouth with a napkin. "You must know what you're pissed off about."

"Not really.." Kieran said, munching on a ketchup coated French fry. "Well…I guess there's one big thing…"

"And that is…."

"I'm angry that dad left us," Kieran admitted. "I'm angry that he left and made my mom so sad. I'm angry that he kept telling me that he'd come and get me and take me to live with him and he never did. That's what pisses me off. That he didn't want me. That he didn't want any of us. He just walked out like we didn't matter to him. Like he didn't care."

"How old were you then Kieran?" Mac asked.

"I don't know…I guess I was about five."

"You were just a little boy," Mac told him. "You couldn't have possibly known what was going on in your house between your parents. Your father never stopped loving or wanting you or your siblings. It killed him to walk away from not only his children, but his wife. But at that point in time, it was the smartest thing for him to do. Your mom and dad were going through some tough times. They needed to spend some time apart to learn what mattered most to them. To learn how to get along and have a strong, successful marriage. They never stopped loving one another. And they never will. Didn't your dad come to see you every chance he got? Didn't he show up on Christmas Day and your birthday? Didn't he spend as much time with you as he possibly could?"

Kieran nodded.

"Don't ever doubt that your father loves you. Or your mother. He loves her with every inch and fibre of his being. She made him into a man. I've known your dad a long time, and when your mother came along, I noticed the transformation in him almost immediately. He smiled more, he laughed more. His eyes lit up whenever she walked in a room. Everything he felt was laid bear for the world to see. Exactly the way it is now. The way he looks at your mother? The way he feels about her? That's special, Kieran. And your mother loves him just the same."

"Sometimes I wonder why," Kieran admitted. "They fight so much. And dad says some nasty things to her."

"And your mother gives as good as she gets, trust me. They're an explosive combination. But they love one another. And they love all of you. And they've done damn good raising you and your siblings despite the fact neither of them had great parental role models growing up."

"I know grandpa was really mean to dad growing up," Kieran said. "And my grandma on my mom's side, well she's just a mean old witch. I hate the way she treats my mom. It pisses me off. 'Cause every time she calls, she gets nasty and then mom starts to cry and I hate seeing her like that. And I know that my mom was…" he took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "…molested when she was a kid."

"Your mother told you about that?"

Kieran nodded. "When she and dad told me about what happened to me. She told me that it had happened to her too. That her birth dad did it. And not just once either. Lots of times."

"Unfortunately," Mac said.

"People like that should be shot and pissed on," Kieran declared and sipped his milkshake. "Mommy didn't deserve that. And I didn't either."

"No one deserves that," Mac said. "Do you ever have any memories about it?"

The teenager shook his head. "I don't remember anything. Is that normal?"

"You were just a toddler. It's not a surprise that you don't remember."

"Will I ever?"

"I doubt it," Mac told him. "You were just little."

Kieran nodded and bit into his cheeseburger. Chewing quietly before swallowing. "Am I weird, Papa Mac?" he asked.

Mac frowned. "Why would you think that?" he asked in return.

"Because of what happened to me. Because of what that guy did. Am I weird? Like, am I going to end up being gay when I'm older 'cause some guy did that to me?"

"No," Mac answered confidently. "You're not weird and it does not mean you're going to turn out gay. Why would you ask that?"

Kieran sighed heavily. "Something happened. A couple of months ago. And I'm kind of weirded out by it."

"And what was this something that happened?" Mac asked.

Kieran took a long sip of his milkshake. "A friend of mine…we were just hanging out….playing video games and stuff. And he kinda, sorta kissed me."

Mac's eyes widened.

"I didn't kiss him back or anything!" Kieran exclaimed. "'Cause I don't swing that way, you know. And I kinda laughed it off after it was over and everything. And now when I'm around him, it's really weird. 'Cause I'm always worried he's going to do it again."

"Did you tell your friend that you didn't like it?"

Kieran nodded. "He knows I'm not like that. I mean, back then I was with Addie and now I'm with Alessa and me and Alessa have a normal relationship and all that."

"Normal as in…"

"We have sex and stuff. Like full out sex."

Mac coughed noisily. "Do your parents know about any of this?" he asked.

The fifteen year old shook his head. "Well, dad knows that Alessa and I are having sex. I told him and he took me out and bought me this huge stash of condoms. And I use them. And I hide them from mommy. She'd freak out for sure. And as far as my friend goes? They don't know anything about that. My dad would shit himself if he knew that Aiden was gay."

Mac's eyes widened for the second time in the conversation.

"And never mind what Uncle Danny would do," Kieran continued. "It would probably put Uncle Danny in an early grave. It's why Aiden drinks as much as he does. 'Cause he's struggling with coming out. I told him it doesn't matter. People aren't all anal about being gay in this day and age. It's not a massive thing. I don't see anything wrong with it. I'm still his friend whether or not he's into the Johnson or into the…"

"I get the picture, Kieran," Mac said, sipping his coffee.

"Do you see why I can't talk to my dad sometimes?" Kieran asked. "He'd totally lose it over some of this stuff."

Mac nodded in agreement.

Goddamn the secret lives of teenagers, he thought.

It was definitely the stuff ulcers and grey hair was made of.

But, he contemplated, as he and Kieran quietly enjoyed their meals, if he was able to get through to Kieran in some small way, to make him realize that the world wasn't out to get him, then Marine Mac Taylor had completed the first part of his mission.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all the lurkers! Please, please R and R folks! Makes my day!

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