DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK, KIERAN (K AS WE ALL LOVE TO CALL HIM) AND ALL THE REST OF THE FLACK BROOD
THANKS TO ALL OF THOSE SENDING ME WELL WISHES DURING MY TIME IN THE HOSPITAL. I APPRECIATE AND LOVE ALL OF YOU. SPECIAL THANKS TO CASS, HEIDI, RACHEL AND MICHELLE FOR THEIR LOVE AND SUPPORT!
If we could pick our families….
"He didn't have to wake up
He'd been up all night
Layin' there in bed listenin'
To his new born baby cry
He makes a pot of coffee
He splashes water on his face
His wife gives him a kiss and says
It's gonna be OK
It won't be like this for long
One day soon we'll look back laughin'
At the week we brought her home
This phase is gonna fly by
So baby just hold on
'Cause it won't be like this for long
Four years later 'bout 4:30
She's crawling in their bed
And when he drops her off at preschool
She's clinging to his leg
The teacher peels her off of him
He says what can I do?
She says now don't you worry
This'll only last a week or two
It won't be like this for long
One day soon you'll drop her off
And she won't even know you're gone
This phase is gonna fly by
If you can just hold on
It won't be like this for long
Some day soon she'll be a teenager
And at times he'll think she hates him
Then he'll walk her down the aisle
And he'll raise her vei
lBut right now she's up and cryin'
And the truth is that he don't mind
As he kisses her good night
And she says her prayers
He lays down there beside her
'Til her eyes are finally closed
And just watchin' her it breaks his heart
'Cause he already knows
It won't be like this for long
One day soon that little girl is gonna be
All grown up and gone
Yeah, this phase is gonna fly by
So, he's tryin' to hold on."
-It Won't Be Like This For Long, Darius Rucker
Kieran groaned noisily in protest as the buzzing from the alarm on his clock radio filled his bedroom and tore him from a peaceful, comfortable sleep. After waiting up for, and eventually confronting his dad just hours before, he'd retired to his bedroom and had struggled to fall asleep. All he could think about was the three cops on the news. Ambushed on what they had thought was just a routine call. By some crazy assed bitch that could have gotten help a long time ago and whose family could have easily prevented the tragedy by keeping a better eye on her and actually giving a shit about her problems. Three cops who'd served the city proud for six decades between all of them. Who gave their all protecting and serving and who had now made the ultimate sacrifice. And who had, as a collective group, left a dozen children between them. He knew that there'd be departmental funerals. The bodies would be carried through the streets in Manhattan on gun carriages, the coffins draped with American flags. The sidewalks would be lined with officers from not just New York City, but from all over the US. Even a smattering of cops from other countries. All in their dress blues and joined by members of the FDNY.
There'd be extensive media coverage and public memorial services. An arena or convention center would be filled to the rafters with all of the people who wanted to pay their respects to the fallen officers. He knew that his parents would expect him to go. That he'd have to put on a suit and a tie and make sure his dress shoes were polished and that he'd have to accompany to them to the services. He was at the age where he could 'emotionally deal' as his dad always put it. He was fifteen. Straddling the fine line between boyhood and manhood and in serious dangerous of toppling over into kid-dom. Dad was grooming him to be the man of the house. He wanted to make sure that he could trust his oldest son to take charge and handle things when he wasn't around. He wanted Kieran to know how tough growing up actually was. That becoming an adult was serious business. And that if he wanted to be treated with respect, he better damn well start handing it out himself.
He'd decided, after tossing and turning for what seemed like an eternity, that he was going to show his parents that he could be trusted. That they could rely on him to step up when they needed him to take the reigns. So he'd set his alarm for seven in the morning and decided he'd be the one to get up with Liam. That he'd let his parents, who'd been through an emotionally draining night, sleep in while he took control and woke Liam up, made him breakfast, got him cleaned up and dressed and ready and waiting for Uncle Danny when he came to pick Liam up at eight thirty to take him to Blessing of the Bikes.
Rolling from his stomach onto his side, Kieran reached out and slammed his hand down on the top the clock radio, bringing an abrupt end to the aggravating noise. Yawning noisily, he flipped over onto his back and rubbed his eyes vigorously with his fists, hissing in pain as he pressed a little too hard against his busted nose and black eye. He'd been in many a fight before. At school, out of it, on the ice. It was a lengthy list of places and people. Nine times out of ten he'd come out on top. He was over six feet and weighed slightly over two hundred pounds. Most people didn't want to run into him on a bad day. But there was the odd tool who wagged his mouth a little too much or got into face and Kieran took immense pleasure in putting them in their place.
David Truby had been a pretty good opponent. He had a good two inches on Kieran and more then twenty pounds. Rumour was it that while David frequented the school gym four times a week, he was also a 'roid head. Kieran himself worked out twice a week at school, and used the old Bowflex in the basement at home a few times a week. Playing hockey and football through school and organized rugby through the NYPD -the department had teams in nearly every sport for kids of sworn officers- helped to keep him bulked up as well. And when the bigger boy had started bad mouthing his dad, Kieran had simply snapped. He would not, and could not, tolerate that shit. He didn't care of the person was seven feet tall and three hundred pounds. He was getting knocked the fuck out. And if someone dared to say anything about his mom…
Kieran didn't how he'd be able to refrain from killing the sonofabitch that talked dirt about his mother.
Even if that SOB was his own father.
Yawning once again, Kieran propped himself up on his elbows and stretched his legs into his bad knee cracked noisily. He frowned at the noise and at the sharp pain that spread from the back of his knee and all the way down to his Achilles tendon. The orthopaedic surgeon who'd preformed the operation on his shredded ACL ligament had told his parents he was astounded at the horrific shape the then thirteen year old's knee was. On top of the injury, the doctor had noticed that nearly all of his patient's cartilage between the knee cap was obliterated. He'd never seen a leg in that bad of shape on someone so young. And he suggested that the damage was not only done by playing sports, but because of the rapid growth spurts that Kieran had begun experience as soon as he hit eight years old. By the time he was ten he was five foot seven. By thirteen he was hovering around five eleven. Two years later, he was sneaking up on six foot two. Growing so quickly, mixed in with 'extreme' activity as the doctor described it, had ended up rendering his right leg a total mess. And the prediction was that if he didn't wear a leg brace on a regular basis, if he didn't exercise it properly, he'd be looking at a knee replacement by the time he was thirty.
This is going to seriously fuck up my chances of getting into the academy, Kieran thought, as he rubbed his throbbing knee. It not longer startled him that his first thoughts weren't about his shitty health screwing up what appeared to be a promising career in hockey. Maybe not at the professional level, but he knew he was good enough to play at the college level. And playing at that level assured him an education as well. Getting into the 'show' had once been his ultimate dream. And while he still entertained fantastical thoughts of being scouted and eventually drafted by the New York Rangers, being named Rookie of the Year and eventually hoisting the Stanley Cup, he knew that those dreams were slipping further and further out of reach.
And he didn't even know if he actually cared.
The truth of the matter was that he neither cared if he ever went pro or got a college education. He was going to be a cop. The shooting of the three NYPD officers the night before had helped him make up his mind. There was no doubt about what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Being a cop was in his blood. It was his destiny. He was a Flack and he was going to follow in his father's footsteps. His grandfather's footsteps. There was nothing more he wanted then to one day be parading across that stage as he accepted his badge while clad in his dress blues. He wanted to be out on the street, helping to make New York City a safer place. He wanted to serve and protect, no matter how cliché it sounded.
Most of all, he wanted to be just like his dad. His dad had given blood, sweat and tears for the city of New York. For shitty pay and little to no respect. But his dad always got up out of bed every day and went to work with his head held high. His dad was a proud man. To a fault sometimes. He was tenacious and loyal and trustworthy. Strong and reliable. Fellow cops both admired him and feared him. And Kieran knew, if he was even half the cop that his father was, he'd be doing the city a great service.
But first, he thought, and tossed his blankets off of his legs, I've got to do the family and my bladder a great service.
And not in that order.
"Why isn't mommy and daddy up with me having breakfast?" Liam asked, a massive pout on his face, his chin resting on his upturned palms as his elbows sat on the kitchen table.
His unruly brown hair was a horrific sight having just rolled out of bed. His NHL pyjamas were wrinkled and askew from tossing and turning -he'd always been a restless sleeper, even as a toddler- and one pant leg was down at the ankle while the other had rode up to his knee. He'd been grumpy from the moment Kieran had crept into his room and non so gently shook him awake. Liam had put up a good fight. Mumbling curses -that he'd learned from his older brother and from his father- and hiding under his comforter while kicking and squirming. Kieran had fought in vain for several minutes until he gave up and simply yanked the fitted sheet clear off the bed, sending Liam tumbling roughly onto the floor.
"Because mom and dad need their sleep," Kieran replied, as he stood at the counter next to the sink, waiting for the Eggos in the toaster to pop up.
"How do I know that daddy is even here?" Liam inquired. "How do I know that you're not lying, K? That mommy's not lying? That daddy isn't really dead?"
"'Cause if you go up the stairs and stand in front of their door you can hear him snoring. And didn't you talk to him last night?"
"Yeah…but…"
"Don't be a dope. Dad's fine. Nothing happened to him. You're just being paranoid," Kieran told him, and picking up a neon green plastic tumbler sitting next to the toaster, took a sip of the peach mango juice that was inside of it.
"Then how come he's not down here making me breakfast if he's fine?" his little brother asked.
"I just told you, squirt. Mom and dad need their sleep. Dad had a really late night at work and mom's not feeling very well."
"Is she sick?" Liam asked. "Is mommy sick?"
"No. She's not sick. She just…she just needs some extra sleep, okay? Now quit giving me such a hard time and stop asking me so many questions. Why do you have to be just like mom? Especially in the morning? Why you go to talk so much when it's so early?"
"Cause," Liam responded. "I just do."
"That answer isn't suitable for anyone over seven," Kieran mumbled.
"I'm not over seven, K," his little brother reminded him. "'Member? I'm not seven for two weeks! Isn't it so cool that we get to go to Chuck E. Cheese?"
"Yeah…that's just my ultimate dream…" the fifteen year old muttered. "A whole day with a bunch of whiny, screaming, spoiled brats."
"You're grumpy today K," Liam informed him. "You need to go and take some happy pills or something."
"You know what would make me less grumpy?" he asked, fixing a steely glare on his brother. "You know what would make me happier even quicker then happy pills? If you would just shut your gate. It is way too early to be listening to you go on and on."
"You're just pissy 'cause I'm a social butterfly," Liam informed him. "'Cause I'm a morning person and you're not. 'Cause I'm like mommy and you're like daddy. And daddy is big time grumpy in the morning. You can't talk to daddy at all. He just…he growls at you if you talk to him before he gets his coffee!"
"He's grumpy 'cause he doesn't know what he ever did to deserve you," Kieran said. "He's grumpy 'cause he knows he should have just stopped at one kid."
"Uh-uh…" Liam shook his head vigorously. "Daddy loves lots of kids. Mommy says we keep him young."
"Mom's full of it. All of you guys and her give him grey hair and ulcers."
"No way," the little boy argued. "That's not why he has grey hair and…what was that last word?"
"Ulcers. It means you make him sick to his stomach with all of your talking first thing in the morning. Can't you just be quiet, Liam? Can't you just not talk until it's time to leave the house?"
Liam shook his head and took a sip of his juice. "Impossible," he said, then let out a huge rib shaking belch.
Kieran smirked, then downing the last of his juice, released an even louder burp that had his little brother staring at him, wide eyed in complete awe.
"You are the king, K!" Liam declared, and jumping off of his chair, proceeded to drop to his knees and bow to his brother.
"What is wrong with you two?" Alannah asked miserably, a grimace on her face as she padded into the kitchen, a pale blue terry cloth bathrobe over the shorts and tank top she'd worn to bed the night before, her rod straight, waist length black hair pulled away from her face and put up in a high ponytail. "Were you born in a barn or something?"
"At least we didn't fall out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down," Kieran retorted.
Alannah glared at her older brother as she made her way across the kitchen. "Where's mom and dad?" she asked, as she yanked the fridge door open and peered inside.
"They ran away from home," Kieran told her, snagging the Eggos as they finally popped up. Dropping them on a plate sitting on the counter, he pried the lid off the margarine container sitting next to it. "They left a note. Said that they don't know when and if they'll be back and I'm in charge."
"You freaking wish," Alannah snorted and took out the container of juice.
"I do," he agreed. "'Cause if I was in charge, things would not be as messed up around here as they are. For example, you'd either have a chastity belt on or be shipped off to some ultra-strict all girls school in some foreign country where they enforce death if you're caught with a guy."
"You are so anal," his sister complained and carried the juice to the dishwasher. Opening the appliance, she grabbed a clean plastic cup, closed the washer up once more and retreated to the island to pour herself a drink. "And who the hell are you to talk, Kieran? You're the slut of this family. A total man-whore. You'll jump on anything that bats their eyelashes at you."
"Except for your frigid friends," he told her.
She glared at him. "Don't say that about Addie. You dumped her, remember? All 'cause she wouldn't put out fast enough. And then you put the moves on Alessa and you're in her pants every chance you can get."
"Addie's a cock tease," Kieran informed his sister. "She led me on. Opening her legs one minute and then the second I try anything she's clamping them shut. And why are you still friends with her anyway? How come you're on the Addie fan wagon and Reghan's on the Alessa one?"
"'Cause unlike some people in here, I'm a good judge of character," Alannah responded.
Kieran rolled his eyes. "Good judge of character, huh? Yeah…you were judging real well when you decided to go all knob gobbler on Joseph last night."
Alannah stalker over to the counter and slugged him hard in the shoulder. "You're not my father! You're my brother! So don't start this over protective bullshit!"
"You're right. I am your brother. And as your brother I have a right to be protective. Think I want my sister being known as the school slut?"
"Why?" she placed her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed as she regarded her brother with contempt. "Are you afraid it's going to upset your popularity as the school slut?"
"What's a knob gobbler?" Liam asked curiously.
"I'm glad that mom is making you tell dad," Kieran said, as he ignored Liam's question as he cut the Eggos in small sections and then carried them to the table with a fork balancing on the plate. "I can't wait to see dad just freak out. Go all medieval on your ass. You'll be lucky if you get to leave the house before you're thirty."
"Whatever," she snorted.
"Whatever," he mocked in a 'Valley Girl' voice as he dropped Liam's breakfast in front of him. "Dad's going to seriously beat your ass, you know," he told his sister.
"I can't believe mom went all psycho bitch on me about it," Alannah said. "If you had have just minded your own business…"
"My own business? My baby sister was giving some asshole jock head in our parents' bedroom. That is my business. My thirteen year old sister whoring herself out to some prick? And mom didn't go all psycho bitch. I guess she just doesn't think it's right that you're shitting all over her and dad and doing whatever the hell you want. You don't see a problem with what you were doing?"
"You don't see a problem with what you're doing?" Alannah shot back. "Like you're the innocent creature. All you and Alessa do is have sex. All the time! Why is it so different when I do things like that? Why does dad go all ballistic on me and all he does with you is buy you condoms and slap you on the back like you're some big man around the house? It's okay when it's you but it's wrong when it's me? That's bullshit!"
"I'm a guy and things are different with guys," Kieran reasoned.
"Like I said, that's bullshit. You should be in just as much shit as me for some of the stuff you do! Dad should be kicking your ass, too! And mom…well mom will always kiss your ass and you'll always defend her 'cause you're her baby. Her favourite. You're a mama's boy."
"Someone has to defend mom," Kieran told her. "Seeing as the rest of you shit all over her all the time. Don't say anything about mom, Alannah. 'Cause I'll drop you right here, right now. I don't give a crap if you're a girl. No skin off my ass."
"Kieran Flack…the bad ass," she rolled her eyes and smirked. "One day there's going to be someone bigger and badder and they're just going to hand you your ass. And judging by how you acted last night, it's probably going to be Joseph."
"Tell your boyfriend anytime, any place," Kieran said, as he took a seat across from Liam at the table. "He needs a good beating for taking advantage of a thirteen year old. He's seventeen! Seventeen and he's putting the moves on a thirteen year old. Guy's a pig. And worst of all, on Monday, all the talk in the halls at school is going to be about how Alannah Flack is a slut. Is that how you want to be known around there?"
"Better then being known as some rat cop's daughter," Alannah muttered.
Kieran frowned, snatched the fork out of Liam's hand and chucked it across the room, catching his sister off the back of the head.
"What the hell is your issue?!" Alannah bellowed, whirling around to face him. "You've got a major malfunction, Kieran! You need to be locked up! On medication or something!"
"And you need to shut your fucking mouth about dad!" Kieran yelled. "If it wasn't for dad you wouldn't even be here! If it wasn't for dad we wouldn't have a nice place to live! If it wasn't for dad busting his ass at work dealing with crazy assholes day in and day out, we wouldn't have the lives we have! He nearly died for his job you moron and all you can do is say shit about him?!"
"Dad walked out on his remember?!" Alannah shot back. "He left us 'cause he didn't want us anymore! 'Cause he didn't want mom anymore!"
"That's not what happened!" her brother informed her. "Dad didn't leave 'cause he didn't want us! He left 'cause him and mom needed some time apart! They needed to get their shit together for us. So don't be yapping about stuff you know nothing about!"
"You'll defend dad no matter what Kieran! It doesn't matter what he does or how much of an asshole he is! You always stick up for him!"
"Maybe 'cause he deserves it!" her brother argued. "Maybe 'cause we all walk all over him and take him for granted! What would it have been like had he died when you were a baby, Alannah? If he hadn't have made it? You never would have known him! And mom would have been destroyed! She wouldn't have been the mom we have now! We wouldn't have a mom or a dad! And how would you feel if he walked out the door and never walked back in? You'd feel like complete and utter shit for being the ungrateful, spoiled little skank you are!"
"You're an asshole Kieran!" she screamed, and bending down to scoop the fork up off of the floor, threw it at him. "I hate you!" she shrieked, as the fork clattered to the floor. "I hate you and I wish you were dead! I wish that that pervert never got caught and they never found you!"
With that, Alannah slammed her cup down on the counter top with enough force to send juice careening over the sides and onto the counter, and turning on her heel, stormed from the kitchen with tears streaming down her face.
Kieran sighed heavily and looked over at Liam. Arching his eyebrows, he stared at his little brother pointedly.
"She's a wack-adoo," Liam declared.
Kieran nodded in agreement and leaning over, scooped the fork off of the floor. Frowning as he inspected it for cleanliness, he popped it into his mouth, licking it clean before holding it out to his mortified looking little brother.
"That's gross, K!" Liam cried. "Now it's got all your cooties all over it! I don't want to share DNA!"
"Hate to break it to you, kid, but we already share DNA. Thanks to mom and dad and their ignorance of birth control."
"I'm just glad that there's no more kids around here," Liam declared, getting up onto his knees to properly reach the table. "That we don't have to share anymore stuff. There's not enough room for anymore kids."
"Well never say never," Kieran told him. "Mom and dad could surprise us all."
"Uh-uh…" Liam popped some Eggo into his mouth. "No more kids! There's too many kids in this house!"
"That's funny," Kieran said, and leaning across the table, tousled his brother's hair affectionately. "I said those exact words when mom and dad were having you. I wanted them to send you back to wherever you came from. And no…you didn't come from the unwanted baby shelter. You were inside mommy's tummy too. Just like the rest of us. I just love teasing you. You know that, right squirt?"
Liam nodded.
"I didn't mean to make you have a melt down yesterday. I was just picking on you. I didn't mean to make you cry. Sometimes big brothers just show how much they love their little brothers by teasing them. I promise I won't talk about the unwanted baby place anymore. Okay?"
"Okay…and I promise I won't punch you in the face anymore," Liam responded.
"That was a pretty good punch," Kieran praised. "You got a hell of a left hook there. I'm going to call you Liam Ali from now on. Just make sure when you grow up you don't start acting stupid and getting into fights okay? Mom and dad already have one juvenile delinquent on their hands."
Liam shook his head and swallowed a mouthful of Eggo. "I'm a lover not a fighter," he said casually.
Kieran's eyes widened at the brazen statement that tumbled so easily out of his little brother's mouth.
"What?" Liam asked innocently. "It's true. I am."
"You spend way too much time with Uncle Peanut," Kieran declared.
"Uncle Peanut is soooo cool," the little boy said. "You know what he said he'd buy me for my birthday, K? He said he'd buy me one of them huge science sets! The one that does over one hundred experiements! I asked him and he said that he'd get it for me. 'Cause daddy says there's no way he's letting me turn into a geek. So Uncle Peanut said he would buy it."
"Dad's delusional. You already are a geek."
Liam frowned.
"It's what happens when you're the low man on the totem pole. Mom and dad already hit the jackpot with me. Their first kid. Amazing good looks, boyish charm. Anyone born after me didn't stand a chance. Things just deteriorated with each kid that came along. You just happened to be the one that was born last. And…well…you're made of all the leftovers."
Liam's head tilted to the side and his eyes narrowed as he regarded his older brother. It was the 'don't hand me any bullshit' look that every kid in the family had seemed to inherit from their father. Liam may not have looked like his dad, but he had the same facial expressions. And had mastered them.
Kieran couldn't help but smirk. "Eat your breakfast," he said, pushing the plate towards his brother. "I don't get my butt out of bed this early for anyone. Consider yourself blessed. Means you're one of my favourite people."
"Well pin a rose on your nose," Liam snorted and went back to his Eggo.
Kieran gave a small laugh, and pushing his chair away from the table, stood up and headed back to the counter where he'd prepared breakfast. Picking up his cup of juice, he sipped at it as he grabbed the dishcloth and began cleaning the mess Alannah had made.
"K?" Liam asked.
"What squirt?"
"If mommy and daddy both died, what would happen to us?" his brother asked curiously.
"Mom and dad are not going to die," Kieran answered.
"But what if they do? What would happen to us? Would we get to live here still?"
"Probably not," the fifteen year old responded. "We'd have to go somewhere where people could take care of us."
"But where? And how come you couldn't take care of us? You're big enough. How come we couldn't stay here and have you take care of us?"
"Because I'm just a kid, too. I wouldn't be allowed to take care of you. We'd need to go live with someone."
"But what if no one wants us?" Liam asked fearfully. "What will happen to us then?"
"Well…" Kieran chose his words carefully. "Maybe the same person won't want all of us, so we'd have to go and live in different homes. And then see each other on weekends and stuff."
Liam's lower lip wobbled as he fought tears. "But I don't want to see each on weekends and stuff," his voice shuddered with emotion. "I want us to see each other all of time."
"Why are you even worrying about this?" Kieran asked. "Nothing is going to happen to mom and dad. And if anything did, trust me, it wouldn't be both of them at the same time. It would be one or the other. Mom dies, dad takes care of us. Dad dies, mom takes care of us. Simple as that."
"I don't want anyone to die," Liam sniffled. "I don't want anyone going to heaven like Papa Clint and Grandpa. I want mommy and daddy to live forever so they can take care of us. I like mommy and daddy taking care of us."
"So do I," Kieran said. "But no one lives forever. That's just the way life is, squirt. Remember that poem that grandma Ross has hanging up in her kitchen? The one on the fridge? Everything I Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten?"
Liam nodded.
"Well there's a part in there that says, 'Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die. So do we.' So dying…it's just the way things are, Liam. It's what happens. And hopefully, no one around here will die until they're really, really old. Especially mom and dad. And by that time, we'll all be older and have our own families and kids and what not and we won't be living at home anymore. We'll still miss mom and dad if something happened to them, but…it won't hurt as bad. Know what I mean?"
"I'll still be sad," Liam declared. "Even if I am old. If mommy and daddy died a long time from now I'd still be sad."
"So would I," Kieran told him. "But by then…well no one can live forever. And by then it will be mom and dad's time to go. But that isn't going to happen for a really, really, really long time. Trust me."
"How do you know, K? How do you know that mommy and daddy won't die for a long time?"
"'Cause mom and dad are still pretty young. And they're both really healthy. Nothing's going to happen to them anytime soon."
Liam sighed heavily. "I hope you're right, K."
Kieran shot his little brother a confident smile, then turned back to his cleaning.
I hope so too, he thought.
There was finally peace and quiet in the house once again.
Although Flack had set the alarm after he'd gotten home the night before and had had every intention of being the one to get up with Liam while Sam slept in, he had somehow had either slept through the alarm or didn't remember turning it off and falling back asleep. All he did know what that both he and Sam had been torn out of blissful, much deserved sleeps by the sounds of screaming and horrific profanity below them in the kitchen.
They'd remained in bed, listening to the chaos below. Biding their time until their presence was either requested or they felt it was time to step in. They frowned at each other when they heard Kieran's vicious words to his sister as he reamed her out for being caught in a compromising position with her boyfriend. Or whatever he was. Then they'd smiled at one another as their first born son staunchly defended him father to an irate Alannah.
Flack had been prepared to jump out of bed and toss some clothes on and head to his daughter's room when he heard her stomp up the stairs, sobbing as she rushed to her room, the slamming of her door echoing throughout the entire house, but Sam had beat him to it. Sliding out of bed, she'd grabbed her house coat off of the back of the bedroom door and shrugging into it, returned to the side of the bed and leaning over, kissed him and assured him she'd be able to handle things.
That was fifteen minutes ago. He had listened while Sam had headed down to Alannah's room, knocking on the door several times and pleading with their daughter to let her in. When the thirteen refused and told her mother in none so polite terms to get lost, Flack had heard his wife sigh loudly and tell their daughter that when she was ready to talk, both mom and dad would be ready and willing to listen. Then, instead of returning to the master bedroom, he'd heard Sam head downstairs and a minute later, her stern voice as she demanded from the boys to know what was going on.
"Alannah is a wack-adoo!" Liam had declared, and Flack had been unable to hold back a hearty laugh.
While the pandemonium had died downstairs and he could hear nothing more then the muted sounds of Kieran and Liam talking at a respectful volume, Flack found it impossible to fall back asleep. His mind and his body were exhausted, but rest was evading him as he lay in on his side of the rumpled queen sized bed, a forearm over his eyes as he listened for the sounds of soft footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hallway, indicating that his wife was coming back to bed. Quiet mornings were a rarity in that house, and he was hoping she'd return and they could have a precious moment to themselves.
He lifted his forearm and looked towards the door at the sound of the hinges squeaking as Sam slipped back into the room. Sipping a tall glass of milk and carrying a package of crackers in one hand, an unopened bottle of water tucked under her arm.
"Everything okay?" Flack asked, as she dropped the crackers and bottle of water on the bed.
"Alannah and Kieran just got into it over who was the bigger slut out of the two," Sam replied dryly, holding the glass of milk out in his direction. A silent request for him to hold it.
Flack's eyes widened.
"I shit you not," Sam said, as he took her drink from her and she climbed onto the bed, settling herself in the middle of it. "That is exactly what they were fighting about. Kieran told her that this Joseph was going to go to school on Monday and start shit about her and she'd be known as the school whore. And then Alannah got mad and asked Kieran if he was jealous that he was popularity as the school slut was going to upset."
Flack shook his head in disbelief. "Our kids have some serious issues," he declared, pushing himself up into a sitting position and picking up the bottle of water.
"I think Liam hit it on the head," Sam said, as she took her drink back and took a sip. "Only it's not just Lanni that's a wack-adoo. The whole lot of them are crazy."
"I don't know…I think Mikayla might be the only sane one," Flack yawned noisily and cracking the water open, took a large swig.
"Probably 'cause she's the one with the most Ross in her."
Flack snorted. "I think not," he said. "Liam is all Ross. From head to toe."
"Yeah? Then explain where he picked up the word wack-adoo and why he has all of your facial expressions. He just looks like a Ross. He's all Flack on the inside. And Mikki…well she's all her mommy on the inside."
"Poor kid," Flack muttered, and then laughed as his wife elbowed him playfully in the side. "You feeling sick, baby?" he asked, as she tore into the package of crackers.
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, clearly letting him know that was the stupidest question in the world.
"I'm just asking…." Flack defending himself, rubbing her back soothingly as she popped a cracker into her mouth. "I'm sorry it's always so rough for you baby. That you go through this all day sickness and vertigo stuff and all that. But in all honesty, you would think you'd either get used to the torture or it would be telling you that you need to go and get fixed to avoid all of this."
"I had my tubes tied, remember? Only my body decided to rebel against me and decided that a seventh baby was a wonderful idea. And we were going to go through this again willingly? Remember?"
"Well now we know why our kids are so crazy," Flack laughed. "They obviously got a crazy gene from each of us."
"Obviously," she mumbled miserably.
"Alannah's okay? You went and checked on her?"
"I tried to check on her. She wanted me to leave her alone. She told me to fuck off actually."
Flack sighed heavily and sipped his water. "Yeah…I heard that. Me and her are going to be having an extremely long talk earlier. I don't care if her door's locked or not. I know how to kick a door down. She just doesn't want to have to face me if it comes down to that. But then again, she already thinks I'm a total asshole, so…"
"We all think our fathers are total assholes at one point in time," Sam remarked. "Don't take it personally, baby. She's just going through some teenage angst right now. She's making some horrible choices and she has to realize that she has to face the consequences of her actions. She's only rebelling against you because you're the disciplinarian. And she thinks you're too strict and too mean with her."
"Do you think I'm too strict and too mean?" he asked. "With all of them?"
"I think you can be harsh with the way you talk to them," Sam replied gently. "And that you can be a little rigid with the rules."
"Kids need rules, Sammie. They need structure and rules so they don't take over the entire house. And that's what's starting to happen around here. Her and Kieran, and sometimes even Reghan and Mikki, on a really bad day, are walking around here like they're the parents. Liam's even starting to get a smart mouth on him. Ask me, judging by the way they are? There's not enough rules around here. I'm not rigid enough."
Sam just nodded.
"I'm not," he insisted. "'Cause if I was, they wouldn't be acting like this. Things are going to change around here, babe. I'm sick of this shit with these kids. They're attitudes, they're laziness. The way they swear and talk back all the time. Enough. Starting on Monday, shit is going to change around here. Me and you are going to sit down this weekend and make up a game plan on how to deal with our kids."
"We are, are we?" she asked.
"We've got to get on the same page here. For years it's been my style of how to do things versus yours. We're working against each other, babe. The kids have been using us. Playing us against each other. Dad says no, go to mom. Mom will cave if we cry and bitch and moan enough. And then it makes you look like the saviour and me look like the bad guy. It's always been that way. And now look. Our kids are planning total domination."
"So what is the plan? We put them over knees and spank their asses more? Ground them more?"
"I don't know. We need to sit down together and come up with some rules we both agree on. Nothing too soft, nothing to hard. Just…we need to be a team, babe. That's all I'm saying. I'm not bad mouthing you as a mother or anything. I'm just saying that…"
She leaned sideways and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth to silence him. "I know what you're saying, Donnie. And for once, and don't let this go to your head or expect to ever hear it again, you're right. We do need to work together. We've been causing our own issues for far too long."
He nodded.
"In fact…seeing as we're talking team work…I'm going to pull a Danny Messer. Remember years ago when he got this Team Flack shirts made? I'm going to do the same thing. So we present a united front."
He grinned. "I don't think that's necessary, babe. I just think we need to get our shit together. Especially…" he laid a hand on her stomach. "…for this little munchkin here."
She smiled and resting her head against his shoulder, laid her hand over his and entwined their fingers together.
"Going to be weird," Flack said. "Going through all that baby stuff again. The crying, late night feedings, dirty diapers, sleepless nights. It's been seven years since we've dealt like that. We're going to need to put the training wheels back on for a bit."
"Just for a little while," she sighed. "All of those stages, and all the ones that come after, they don't last very long Donnie. At the time they seem like they're going to last forever, and the truth is, if you blink, you miss them. And then you spend the rest of your life wishing you could get them all back again."
He nodded in agreement and pressed a kiss to her temple.
"You know what I'm looking forward to the most?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"Seeing you walking around all unshaven and rugged, carrying a tiny baby. There's something so sexy about it. You do that whole big, strong man with a baby thing well."
"I knew there was a method to your madness," he chuckled. "You just wanted to see me like that so it'll got you all hot and bothered."
She laughed. "Yeah…that's it…that's the only way you can get me all hot and bothered."
He grinned. "I miss those days I could get you all hot and bothered just by looking at you a certain way."
She pulled back to look at him. "You don't think you still do that?"
"We've been married for a long time, babe. My novelty is worn off. I don't do that for you anymore."
"You're delusional," she said and kissed him. Long and slow and deep. "You will always do that for me."
He smiled.
"Do I still do something for you?" she asked. "Or do I have to try harder in my old age?"
"No trying, Sammie. You've never had to try. You've always had that way about you. Whether it was before kids or after. You're my Sammie. Plain and simple. And there's always going to be that little thing that just gets me every time."
She winked at him and rested her forehead against his. "We've come a long way Don," she told him.
He pecked the end of her nose and reached up to run a hand over her hair.
"And we still have a long way to go," he assured her.
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