DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND KELLAN AND KALLISON FLACK.
A/N: IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, MY RATINGS FOR MY STORIES HAVE BEEN UPPED. I WAS APPARENTLY REPORTED FOR WRITING 'EXTREMELY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT'. I THOUGHT MY STUFF WAS ACTUALLY PRETTY TAME COMPARED TO SOME, BUT WHATEVER. SO I AM POSTING ALL I CAN WHILE I'M STILL AROUND. JUST IN CASE I'M BOOTED OFF OF HERE. SO THANKS FOR ALL OF YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT!
We are family
"Tonight I cried the tears of a child
Who knows what fear runs deep and wild
Inside
But the river's in flood tonight
I lay down and the light streamed across my face
I felt the beauty of some deeper grace
And I tried
To find my way to the other side."
-Healing Hands, Marc Cohn
"Cow tipping."
Flack's eyes snapped open as his wife's voice, loud and clear, shattered the peaceful serenity of their dark bedroom. On the nightstand next to his head, the red illuminated numbers on the clock radio blazed brightly. It was quarter to two in the morning and he'd been in bed just shy of an hour. They had stayed at the house party longer then they had originally intended. On the drive over they'd decided on sealing the midnight arrival of 2017 with a kiss and then heading straight home. Only to get sidetracked when Stella and her boyfriend, a DEA agent nearly twelve years her junior, showed up shortly before the ball dropped.
Despite Sam going to work for her in less then two weeks, it had been a long time since the two women, or even Flack and Hawkes for that matter, had seen Stella Bonasera. She seemed extremely light hearted and happy. Like a woman reborn thanks to the love of a good man. No one had ever thought she'd recuperate fully from Brendon Walsh's death five years previous. It had come as a mortal shock to everyone when a massive inferno in an abandoned textile factory in Jamaica, Queens had gone disastrously wrong. Eight firefighters were trapped inside and left to die when platoon chiefs ordered their men to exit the building and forbade anyone to go back inside. Stella had gone into a state of indescribable mourning from the moment she'd received news that Brendon had died. They had been six weeks from their wedding. Six months away from becoming parents for the first time. The stress and shock of the love of her life's death had caused a miscarriage and Stella had been off for months while recuperating from the harsh reality of her dual losses.
The entire city had been in the mourning. Eight young men, most with wives and girlfriends and small children at home, all lost. It had been a steady week of wearing NYPD dress blues and attending the individual funerals and then the large public memorial held in Madison Square Garden on the one month anniversary of the fire. Brendon had become a member of the tight knit 'family' that the team and their respective significant others had formed. He'd been welcomed with open arms into the fold the moment Stella showed up at 'team night' at Sullivan's with the handsome, young man on her arm. He was laid back and friendly and fiercely loyal to his friends. A great guy to have around in a pinch. Flack had considered Walsh one of his best friends. Brendon, himself and Danny had often shared guys' nights out and went to sporting events. It had been Brendon that had organized Flack's bachelor party in Atlantic City a week before the Turks and Caicos wedding. And it been Brendon, after hearing the nine one one call go out to the lab, who'd met Flack at the hospital and escorted the near frantic father to be upstairs to the labour and delivery ward.
It had been hard, sitting by and feeling completely useless and helpless as Stella suffered so badly. The only person she seemed to want around was Mac. Not that that was any surprise to anyone that worked with them. Mac and Stella had always had an incredible bond and unbreakable trust between them. While nothing romantic had ever developed -like most members of the team had been rooting for for years- they had in turn maintained a friendship that was enviable. The level of respect and admiration and sibling like affection was incredible to behold. Mac had seen her through the darkest, lowest of days after she'd lost Brendon and their baby. And it had been Mac who had sought her counselling when the grief and depression seemed to control her completely. He had single-handily taken her life and her sanity in his hands and cradled it as if it were a delicate piece of fractured bone china. Keeping it from falling to the floor and shattering completely.
Nearly eight months following the deaths, Stella finally returned to work. It had been awkward at first. No one really knew what to say. Sorry didn't seem adequate enough, and you're looking good seemed incredibly inappropriate. So they'd offered up hugs and kisses to the cheeks and small talk and simply let Stella come to the if she needed to talk. Which she rarely did. Instead, she dived head first into work and attacked every case with a steely, determined resolve despite the fact that her life had been so irreversibly shattered.
While everyone had been sad when she'd left New York to run the New Jersey Crime Lab, they had understood that a fresh start and a new opportunity was perfect for Stella. She had long ago proved that she was more then capable of playing with the big boys. That she was just as good as any man at running the show. And while it had been somewhat surprising that she had met someone that much younger then her, she had sounded so content and carefree during her frequent phone calls to her friends, that no one could begrudge her that kind of love and happiness. Although both Flack and Danny had told her to warn the new guy that they weren't above coming to New Jersey to kick his ass if he even ruffled a hair on her head or brought one tear to her eye.
"Cow tipping…" the sleeping figure beside him repeated.
Flack sighed and rolled onto his back and looked over at his wife. Who was curled up into a near fetal position facing him, her arms wrapped tightly around her pillow. He'd been attempting to catch at least a small nap before having to head to the airport at quarter after two to pick Adam up at La Guardia. Thankfully it was only a half hour drive from the house, and Flack would have his brother in law settled, himself back in bed and fast asleep long before his kids were up for the day.
"It's fun…" Sam said, and then giggled noisily.
Flack shook his head and laid his forearm over his eyes. He was used to the middle of the night ramblings and conversations. But that didn't mean they weren't annoying.
"It's funny," she continued. "So funny…watch them fall over…BOOM…it's funny…"
He rolled his eyes and reached out blindly with his free arm to stroke her hair softly. Hoping the soothing sensation would lull her back into a quiet sleep.
"Cow tipping!" she cried out and then laughed hysterically.
"What about cow tipping, babe?" he asked, humouring her.
"It's funny…you run into the field and just tip 'em on over…"
"I'm sure it's hysterical if not a little sadistic," Flack said. "Now be quiet, okay? I don't know why the hell you're dreaming about tipping over sleeping cows or what made you dream about them, but you need to just be quiet. It's late. People need to sleep. Just be quiet."
"Okay…" she said rolled over onto her stomach.
And promptly shut up.
Flack sighed heavily and gave a small laugh. She's nut, he thought. But she's all mine. Closing his eyes, he settled his hand on her back, rubbing her back softly through the thin, luxurious fabric of her scarlet red satin two piece pyjamas. After arriving home and checking to see that the twins were fast asleep -they'd decided to crash in Kallison's room with Amanda, the three girls lying side by side in their matching Disney Princess sleeping bags- and that Jasmine and Elijah had made themselves comfortable down in the basement, Flack had taken his wife into the privacy of their own bedroom, locked the door and made good on his promise to make it a very Happy New Years for her.
He had noticed that she wasn't as relaxed and 'into' their love making as usual. It was a common occurrence with her illness, and he'd long ago realized that her less then enthusiastic response to things and lacklustre performance had nothing to do with him doing something wrong. What concerned him was that such behaviour on her part was usually the sign that things were going to start to flare up. Something he was dreading now that there were career and lifestyle changes hanging in the balance.
However, despite her talking in her sleep and the odd moment of tossing and turning, she seemed comfortable and relaxed. Which in turn, made him feel the same. It helped banish all worry from his mind and he felt his eyes growing heavy. Her rhythmic breathing and her warm, soft body lulling him easily and quickly to sleep.
Until the loud, shrill ringing of his cell phone so rudely yanked him out of his peaceful slumber. Flack's eyes snapped open once more and his hand shot out to snatch the offensive object from the top of the nightstand. Beside him Samantha stirred, the noise slicing through her sleep and startling her awake.
"Donnie?" she whispered, her voice tiny and childlike.
"Shhh…" he rubbed her back with his free hand as he checked the call display on his phone. Immediately recognizing Adam's cell phone number.
"What time is it?" she inquired, lifting her face from her pillow.
"Almost two," he replied.
"Someone's calling you into work?" she sounded agitated at the thought.
"No…it's…" he caught himself before letting it slip that it was her brother. He had promised Adam that he wouldn't tell his sister about Paisley announcing their marriage was over and threatening to take the kids. He had agreed to let his brother in law to be the bearer of bad news all on his own. And he wasn't about to betray Adam's trust in him. "It's just one of my guys," he told her , as he tossed the covers off of himself and slipped out of bed. "There's this huge case we've been trying to bust for months and I told them to call me as soon as they got any solid leads."
"The Donnelly case?" she asked. "The ones you guys think are somehow tied to that Wilder gang you busted years ago?"
"Yeah…and they wouldn't be calling me if it wasn't something big…so I'm just going to go downstairs and call them back and you go back to sleep, okay?"
She nodded and flopped over onto her back.
Leaning over the bed, he kissed her softly. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"I just have a really, really bad headache," she replied. "I think that one and a half glasses of wine I had at the party just hit me like a tons of bricks. I've been an abstainer far too long, I guess."
"You need to call that doctor and get that MRI bumped up," he told her, as he snagged a pair of jeans from his dirty laundry hamper and slipped them on. "Will you do that for me?"
"How come you're getting dressed?" she asked, sitting up in bed and watching as he grabbed an NYPD sweatshirt from his dresser and yanked it on.
"Answer my question first," he replied.
"I will call him the first day the office is open after the holidays," she said.
"And I'm getting dressed 'cause I just may have to go in if it's something serious."
"But you're on your paid vacation," Sam grumbled.
"Sometimes I've got to put the job first, you know that. You wouldn't have married a cop if you didn't accept that as part of the deal."
"I didn't marry you because you're a cop," she informed him grumpily. "I married you 'cause of your incredible blue eyes and your even more incredible ass."
"You married me because you wanted black haired, blue eyed babies," Flack reminded her. "Or at least that's what you told me the morning after our wedding."
"Did I say that?" she asked innocently, lying down on her back and settling her head into her pillow. "I can't believe I'd ever say something like that to the love of my life."
"Well you did," he told her, as he walked towards the bed and stood next to her. "And you know why?"
She shook her head and accepted a tender kiss.
"Because you're mean to me," he informed her and kissed her again.
"I think not," she said. "You're just overly sensitive. You'll come back in and say bye if you have to leave?"
"We'll see," he teased as he headed for the door.
"Now whose being mean?" she pouted dramatically.
He gave a light chuckle and winked at her playfully before slipping out of the room.
Adam Ross shivered by the front entrance of La Guardia's designated passenger drop-off/pick up area. The wind was brisk and bitter and the snow tumbled down relentlessly. Adding to the four inches that had fallen on the city in the past twelve hours alone. It was close to quarter to three in the morning and he was dead tired. Spent both emotionally and physically. It had killed him to lie to his kids. They'd been in hysterical tears when they'd come back to the hotel suite and saw that he was packed and ready to leave. He'd sat down on the bed and placed them on his knees, while Paisley glared at him from across the room, the cold, callous expression in her eyes a clear warning that he better keep his mouth shut. Then fighting back tears of rage and hurt , he'd blatantly lied to his children and told them that he had to go home for work. That Grandpa Mac needed him to help some extra, extra bad guys.
They'd bought his explanation and gave him hugs and kisses and walked him to the door. He'd said nothing to either his wife or his parents and simply walked out, leaving his tearful kids behind.
After the plane had taken off and was well on it's way back to New York City, Adam had made his way to the in-flight bathroom, locked the door and sat down on the toilet and had himself a good cry. His face buried in his hands as he let loose sobs that shook his entire body and left him emotionally drained. Then he'd wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his plaid shirt and got up and went to the small sink and turned on the cold water. He'd rinsed his face and lifted his head and stared at himself in the mirror. A man who had thought just twenty four hours ago that he'd had it all. A loving wife, a great marriage, two beautiful kids. And now he was a tattered and torn version of his former self.
He was disgusted with himself. For not being able to see what was coming. For allowing her to talk to him and threaten him the way he had. And for backing down so easily and effortlessly throwing in the towel. And then he'd vowed, there and then, that he'd get the last laugh in the end. He'd come out on top and he'd leave Paisley scratching and fighting for every last scrap and morsel she could get. She would not get his kids. He would play every card and be as dirty as possible to make sure of that.
Now, with nothing but contempt and fury raging inside of his body, all Adam wanted to do was get to that warm house in Queens, curl up in bed and sleep his agony away. His sister's place, even when it was just a cramped two bedroom apartment in lower Manhattan, had always been a safe haven for him. When things in his life were going incredibly shitty, he always knew that he was welcome there. That Sam and Flack would be pillars of support through whatever he was dealing with. Whether it be Sam with her incessant chatter and twenty million questions and her repetitive offers of tea and something to eat, or Flack with his quiet, steady resolve and the way he'd tousle Adam's hair and say, "You're going to be alright kid", he knew that they were the two people that loved him more then anyone else ever had in his life. That he could be himself around them. They wouldn't judge him or criticize him. And that he could trust them. With his life.
He glanced up as the familiar SUV pulled up the curb in front of the pick up area. He saw his brother in law give him a small wave in greeting and Adam returned the gesture, then motioned for Flack, as he put the SUV in park, to stay where he was. Gathering up his carry on and the sole suitcase he'd brought back from Florida -mostly full of things he'd brought back for his sister and his nieces- Adam hurried through the blustery snow and tossed open the back door and tossed his things onto the seat before climbing into the front beside his brother in law. Flack looked tired and drained. He'd left the house in a pair of tattered, faded jeans with paint stains on the thighs and small holes in the knees, and an NYPD sweatshirt with a frayed collar and several bleach spatters along the front of it. No winter jacket or hat or gloves. No socks on his feet, but an old pair of soggy looking Adidas runners. He was scruffy and unshaven and looked like he needed to sleep for a week.
"Flight okay?" Flack asked, looking over at Adam as the younger man drew his seat belt across his body and locked it securely.
Adam nodded. "Little turbulence coming over the Hudson…but it was alright. Sorry for having to drag you out of bed this late."
Flack shrugged and switched the SUV into drive. "I was having a hell of a shitty nap anyway. Your sister is insane. Have I ever told you that?"
Adam nodded. "I'd say about twice a day for…I don't know…the last eight years? Since the day you first met her."
"There's something seriously wrong with her," Flack declared as he pulled away from the airport. "Like upstairs. Something seriously, seriously wrong. You know how she does that crazy sleep-talk shit? To the point where you can have an actual conversation with her?"
"That used to scare the shit out me as a kid," Adam said. "I could hear her through the walls just talking away. And there were times she'd start thrashing around in bed so hard that the headboard banged into the walls. Or she'd let out these blood curdling screams and a profanities that would wake the whole house."
"Well there was none of that tonight, thank God. But she was laughing to herself and talking about the weirdest shit. Guess what she was talking about."
Adam shrugged.
"Cow tipping," Flack told him. "Fucking cow tipping. I mean, who talks about that awake never mind asleep?"
"Why would she be talking about that?" Adam asked. "I mean, I know we did that once when we were younger. We were visiting relatives of Sarge's in Nebraska. I was about fourteen, so Sammie was close to eighteen. And our cousins, well they thought it would be funny to show us how to tip cows. So we all tiptoed out of the house one night and crept out into our uncle's field and well…proceeded to tip over a sleeping cow."
Flack frowned and cast a glance at his brother in law as he chuckled heartily. "What is wrong with you people?" he asked.
"And Sammie…" Adam laughed as he recounted the night many years ago. "Sammie laughed so hard that she peed her pants. Like literally peed her pants. I can still see her rolling on the ground laughing and this huge, wet stain spreading across the ass of her pyjama bottoms."
Flack grinned broadly. "That is some serious blackmail material right there. Anything else I can use against her when she gets on my ass about something? Other then the tipping over a cow and pissing herself and the time she 'accidentally' took out that poor defenceless squirrel with your step-dad's shotgun?"
"Well, there was this one time when we were really young and still living in Crown Heights. Our uncle, the one that worked at the Widdington? He bought us this hamster…"
"Having a hamster is hardly scandalous," Flack commented.
"It wasn't the hamster per say. It was more what we did to the hamster," Adam admitted sheepishly.
"Did your sister get off on torturing animals or something? Like should I be seriously considering finding a safe haven for Wiener? Is she suddenly going to snap and put him in the microwave?" Flack teased.
"Hey, the cow was us being stupid teenagers." Adam laughed. "The squirrel was, she claims, an unfortunate accident."
"An accident?" Flack chuckled. "The squirrel accidentally ran in front of the bullet from a twelve guage sawed off? Right…"
"Well the hamster…well the official COD was death by misadventure," Adam continued. "See, we thought it would be neat to take one of our mom's hair scarves, make a parachute out of it, and attach it to Cookie. Our hamster."
"And…"
"And Sammie dropped him out of my bedroom window. Let's just say we should have aborted the mission. 'Cause the parachute failed to open and …well it's a comforting thought to know Cookie, God rest his soul, went quickly and painlessly."
Flack smirked. "Remind me to never, ever buy the girls hamsters. 'Cause you never know what kind of evil that might spark inside of your sister."
Adam couldn't help but laugh. A genuine laugh at that. And it felt good, especially after the nightmare of a day he had, to actually be able to find humour in something. And he didn't know if his brother in law did it on purpose or not, but he was grateful and appreciative that instead of asking questions and making his misery worse, Flack had decided to lighten things up instead.
"You know," Flack mused. "Serial killers often start out doing things to animals. Think I should be worried your sister might go all Jack the Ripper one day?"
"I think it's safe to say that at almost forty two, she may be past her homicidal stage," Adam joked. "How is Sammie?" he asked. "Is she okay?"
Flack nodded and reached out to turn up the heat. "Those new meds she's been taking for the fibromyalgia seem to be working wonders. But she's been complaining about them headaches again."
"Any vision problems? What about her speech and her co-ordination?"
"They seem to be okay. I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary. But she's wearing her glasses a lot lately."
"That doesn't sound good," Adamn commented. "When is her next MRI?"
"She's going to call the doctor after the holidays and see if he'll make it sooner. I'm thinking it's just stress. First it was work, now it's losing her job and having to think about finding a place in New Jersey to live. Stress can totally fuck someone up physically."
Adam nodded in agreement. "Just make sure that she takes care of herself, okay? She's my sister and if anything happened to her…"
"Hey, your sister is my wife, remember? There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. I'd walk through the fires of hell for her. Shit, I'd lie down and die for her and our kids. Don't worry. I've got things under control. I've always taken care of him, haven't I?"
Adam couldn't deny that.
"I mean, other then the one huge, monumental fuck up," Flack sighed. "There's three months of my life I'd love to erase. Hell, never mind the three months. Just let me go back and get rid of that the one night that started it all off."
"We all make mistakes," Adam reminded him. "And you admitted yours and you and Sammie worked things out."
"Yeah…after she took my kids and walked out on me and hired a laywer. We were this close," Flack dropped a hand off the wheel and held his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart. "This close to getting divorced. And I don't know why she changed her mind and took me back and…"
"Because she loves you," Adam interhected. "Because she loves you and has two kids with you. There's no other reason. She never, ever once said during the time that she didn't love you. Just that she couldn't live with you."
"What about Paisley?" Flack asked. "Think maybe she's just going through some emotional crisis or some shit? That she'll realize she didn't mean a damn thing she said? That maybe your taking off and coming back home will make her re-think things? Make her realize she doesn't want things to be over?"
"She wants things to be over," Adam informed his brother in law. "She isn't going through a crisis. This is what she wants. She doesn't want to be married anymore. She doesn't love me."
"You don't know that, Adam. Like I said, she could be going through some shit. And when she realizes what a mistake she made, she'll regret everything she said and…"
"She's not going to regret it!" Adam snapped. "She's not going to regret it 'cause she meant every single word. Because she's a vicious, cold hearted, life sucking bitch. You didn't hear it in her voice. You didn't see it in her eyes! She meant every goddamn word and you need to back off about it!"
Flack blinked. Taken back by the vehemence and finality in Adam's voice. Adam rarely lost his temper. Sam was the one who was known for her extremely short fuse. In fact, Flack could not recall a single time in the past eleven years since Adam had begun working at the crime lab, that he'd ever seen the younger man get upset about anything.
"I'm sorry," Adam sighed heavily. "I didn't mean to freak out on you like that. But she was dead serious, Don. She doesn't love me anymore. It's over. Nothing more to it. And I just want to…I don't want to talk about it anymore tonight."
Flack just nodded, surrendering peacefully.
Adam sighed heavily and leaned his head back against his seat and closed his eyes. "You ever see her?" he asked, after several long minutes of silence.
"Who?" Flack asked.
"Jordan. Do you ever see her? Have you heard from her since the two of you…"
Flack's hands tightened on the steering wheel and his eyes darkened at the sheer mention of Jordan Gates' name. He had originally met her years ago, while he and Mac were investigating the death of Jordan's assistant Katie Mann at the hands of suspect X and trying to track down the allusive assassin herself. Jordan had been into Mac from the get go. She had tried to act all cool and confident when she'd seen him approaching that day, but it was clear to Flack, and probably to Mac too, that she was definitely interested. Nothing had ever happened between her and the crime lab boss, and she had never even been a passing thought in Flack's mind.
Until he'd met up with her a year ago after agreeing to work security detail for a mayoral fundraiser. They'd chatted up at the black tie event and Flack had, foolishly, agreed to meet her for coffee one night after work. Only coffee had quickly became something else and his life had spiralled out of control. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd even done it. Why he'd felt the need to tackle an extra marital affair. His wife was a beautiful vivacious and alluring woman who had give him two amazing little girls. And he loved Sam and his kids to the ends of the earth and beyond. But he'd been stressed because of his wife's illness and Jordan had been there. Offering solace and companionship and he hadn't had the brains to say no. Thinking with his dick, as Danny so eloquently had put it when news of the affair got out.
Jordan had went somewhat Fatal Attraction when Flack had told her that, after three months, he didn't want anything more to do with her. He didn't love her and would never, ever leave his family for her. It had been about sex and nothing more. He'd walked out of her apartment and headed home, prepared to tell his wife about what he'd done and beg for forgiveness.
Only he hadn't had the chance to come clean. When he walked through his front door, he was confronted by an enraged wife with her and their children's bags already packed. Jordan had taken it upon herself to tell Samantha everything. She had thought that it would destroy his marriage and sent him running back to her. Jordan Gates couldn't have been more wrong. Flack hated her with every fibre of his being.
But no more than he hated himself.
"Why would I hear from her or see her?" Flack asked defensively. "I walked out on her. Told her that it was over. That I wasn't going to ever leave my wife and my kids for her. Once I walked out that door, that was it. I turned my back on her and washed my hands of her. Why would I ever see her or talk to her?"
"I just wondered if maybe she ever tries to contact you or anything like that," Adam replied.
"Last I heard, she had taken a job in San Francisco," Flack said. "Mac mentioned it a few months ago. But no. She never tried to contact me once your sister and I got back together. Why?"
Adam shrugged. "Just curious is all."
"Jordan Gates is the biggest mistake of my life," Flack sighed. "I wish every moment of every day that I could go back and change everything. And I can't. I was a dick and I'll pay for that for the rest of my life. Your sister may have taken me back and forgiven me, but I'll never forgive myself for doing something like that to her and my girls. For nearly tossing our entire lives together away for that stupid ass bitch."
"How do you think Sammie's dealing with it now?" Adam asked curiously.
"She still gets pissed and hurt when she thinks about it. She may have forgiven, but she'll never forget. And there's always going to be some small part of her that doesn't trust me completely. And you know what? I deserve that. I did that. I destroyed that part of us. Who knows if we'll ever be fully whole again. All I know is that I love your sister and she's my forever. And no one, or nothing, is ever going to fuck that up again."
"You realize I'd have to kill you if you hurt her again, right?" Adam asked in all seriousness.
"You, your step dad, my old man, Mac, Danny, Scagnetti…there's a huge list of people just itching to get a hold of me if I do anything stupid ever again. Why are you asking me all of this? You think Paisley's been cheating on you?"
Adam sighed. "Honestly? I have no idea. I didn't think I'd ever hear her say the things she did. So if she's capable of what she said to me, then I guess she's capable of worse things, right?"
"You never suspected anything? You never thought maybe there wasn't something quite right?"
Adam shook his head. Then opened his eyes and looked over at his brother in law. "Why? Did you ever think something wasn't quite right?"
"With Paisley or your sister?" Flack asked.
"Both, I guess."
"I've never once thought your sister was cheating on me. She's never given me a reason to think she's up to no good. I trust her explicitly. I may not like the fact that men flirt with her and that she flirts back a little bit, but I know she'd never do anything to hurt me. Maybe that's being a little naïve, but it's how I feel."
"And Paisley?" Adam asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. Flack was notorious for being brutally honest. And Adam knew, if his brother in law did suspect anything, then he was going to get the straight goods.
"Paisley?" Flack sighed. "Honestly…no. I never thought at any time that she was screwing around on you."
Adam felt relief surge through him.
"If you want to know all of this, my best advice is to sit down and hash it out with her when she gets back," Flack suggested. "You can ask her to come over to the house so that either Sam or I are there to referee. Or you can take one of us with you and meet her somewhere. But trust me, have a witness with you. So she can't say you said shit you didn't. Things like this get nasty right quick. And you don't need any more grief. I'll call the lawyer I was telling you about once the holidays are over. He's damn good. If not more then a little bit ruthless. She won't be able to pull any bullshit with him handling things."
"I just want my kids," Adam said. "That's all I want."
"And you'll get them," Flack assured him. "Trust me. When this guy is finished with her…just trust me on this. You'll get your kids."
"You're one of the few people I do trust," Adam told him, and sighed heavily.
Flack gave a small smile. As they pulled up to a red light just blocks from his home, he looked over at his brother in law. Adam was near tears and struggling hard to stay strong. Reaching out, he tousled the younger man's hair and settled his hand at the back of Adam's head. "You're going to be okay, kid," he said. "I promise you, you'll be okay."
Adam managed a tearful smile and looked out his window, attempting to compose himself. Feeling somewhat relieved knowing that if anyone was capable of keeping their promises, it was Don Flack Jr.
Adam woke to bright winter sunshine streaming through the window of his sister's spare room in Ridgewood, Queens and the sounds of hyper and giddy children tearing the house apart one floor below. The giggling and shrieking was of a volume he had never experienced before with even his own kids. The twins, along with Amanda, raising nothing but sheer hell and destroying everything in their wake. Groaning loudly, he cracked open an eye and raised his right arm to steal a glance at the watch on his wrist. Quarter to nine in the morning. Way too goddamn early for someone who hadn't climbed into bed until after four am.
Flack had taken him to the home he shared with Paisley and the kids to gather up all of his clothes and his personal effects. And took it upon himself to personal write a 'Dear Jane' letter, leaving it on Paisley's pillow where'd she'd be unable to miss it. Afterwards, they'd loaded up Flack's SUV -most of Adam's things remained in the back of the vehicle, opting to leave his stuff there as opposed to risking waking the rest of the house moving everything inside- and headed back to Queens. They'd had a couple of cups of coffee and talked about the lawyer that Flack was setting Adam up with. And what Adam could expect the attorney to go after. Warning him that it would get nasty. It was just an unfortunate side effect of most marriage bust ups and custody battles.
Sighing heavily, Adam rolled over onto his back and stretched noisily. Wanting nothing more then to draw the covers over his head and sleep the day, and his misery away. Instead, he frowned as his hand brushed up against something - a human leg, in fact- as the owner sat perched on the edge of the fold out couch. His eyes snapped open and he gave a small startled jump as he found his sister, in a pink terry cloth robe, matching sleepers and her hair chopped off, sitting next to him.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Sam chirped. "Want to tell me what gives? Why you're in my cramped spare bedroom in Queens, New York when you're suppose to be in a luxury hotel in Orlando, Florida?"
He groaned in response and rubbed at his tired eyes.
"Or would you like to tell me why my husband left the house at two in the morning giving me a bullshit excuse about someone needing him at work?" Sam asked.
"Flack told you I was here?"
"He didn't need to. When I got up with the girls, Kellan saw your boots and your jacket in our front hallway. And I know for a fact that my husband does not own steel toed camouflage boots, nor a plaid hunting jacket that looks like it was pulled from Paul Bunyan's closet."
Adam sighed.
"Why in the hell are you here?" she asked, leaning over and kissing his unshaven cheek. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Peanut. Just you're suppose to be in Florida with your wife and kids. And mom and dad. Which, if you were to say they drove you mental and you had to come back early to save yourself from killing them, I'd completely understand."
"You cut your hair," Adam observed. "It looks nice."
"Thanks…so? What's the deal?"
"The deal is I had to come back to New York," Adam told her.
"For work?" Sam asked.
He shook his head.
"So? What for then? Did mom and dad really drive you that insane that you had to get away? Or…"
"I don't want to talk about it right now," Adam interrupted her. "It's early and I…"
"Early?" Sam laughed. "You don't spend enough time in the Flack house. This is far from early. And you already know how cheerful and talkative I am in the morning."
"Well I'm not," Adam reminded her and yanked the covers over his head.
Sam lifted the corner of the comforter and peered under. "What is going on, Adam? And don't bullshit me either. I've got an internal bullshit detector, remember?"
He sighed and yawned noisily. "I had to come home because Paisley and I are going through some stuff," he told her.
"What kind of stuff? Did you leave her?"
Adam shook his head. "Other way around," he told her.
"She left you?" Sam's eyes flashed with anger. "What did the little skank do? Run off with one of the Seven Dwarfs? I bet it was Doc. She's got this thing for wanting a sugar daddy. Or maybe she went with Dopey so that their personalities would either match or she'd feel like the genius out of that union."
Adam groaned loudly and covered his eyes. "I do not want to be hearing this right now…just let me sleep, okay? Just let me lie here and wallow in my self pity? Can you not give that to me? Can you not let me wallow for a little while?"
"No. You are not going to lie here and wallow. You're in my house. And being in my house, you're either going to tell me what the hell that little bitch did to you, or you can leave that until later and simply roll out of bed and go downstairs and see your nieces. They're ecstatic that uncle Peanut is here. They didn't get to see you at Christmas, Adam. You've made their entire year and it's only the first day of 2017. Can you do that for me? Shove Paisley's bitch ass to the side and come downstairs and hang out at the kids' table for a bit?"
He sighed and nodded.
Sam gave a small smile and rubbed his shoulder affectionately. Her voice suddenly serious. "I don't know what Paisley did to you, but when you're ready to tell me, I'll be here, okay?"
Adam gave another nod.
"And whatever you need, whether it's money or a lawyer or a place to stay, or just a shoulder to cry on, Donnie and I are here for you. We're not going anywhere. We're not going to let you fall. You believe me, right?"
"Of course I believe you," Adam's voice was choked with emotion, his eyes filled with tears as he removed his hands from his face and looked up at her. "You're my sister."
"That's right," she said cheerfully and leaned over to embrace him. "Nothing can ever change that. And Donnie…well I know he can be a little rough around the edges, but he thinks a lot of you, Peanut. And whatever you need, you can go to him. You know that, don't you?"
Adam nodded.
"Good," Sam chirped, and pecking her brother's cheek, climbed off the pull out. "Now your sister says to get out of bed, clean yourself up a little bit and haul ass downstairs," she told him, as she headed for the bedroom door. "We're having Lieutenant Flack's famous banana pancakes. And I'm going to make pancake people. Interested?"
"I could go for a few pancake people," Adam admitted, as he sat up and ran his hands through his unruly hair.
"I'll make a Paisley one," Sam said and opening the door, turned and looked at him. "We can use some strawberry jam to fashion a nine millimetre entrance wound in the middle of her forehead."
"You're evil," Adam informed her.
"Deliciously evil as my husband always calls me," Sam said, and gave a dramatic, sinister laugh before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door.
Adam grinned and listened to her soft footsteps as they headed down the hall.
"HEY!" he heard her bellow as she paused at the top landing of the stairs. "WOULD YOU THREE STOP RUNNING AROUND MY HOUSE LIKE WILD FREAKING BANSHEES?!!! KELLAN! KALLISON! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO? YOU THINK YOU'RE FLACKS OR SOMETHING?…OH WAIT…YOU ARE!"
"Sam!" Adam heard Flack call from the kitchen. "Come here so I can beat you to death with this spatula!"
"You'd miss me too much!" she returned, and then headed down the stairs.
Adam laughed out loud and collapsed onto his back. He felt optimistic and light hearted for the first time since his wife had dropped the bomb the day before. And as he lay listening to his nieces and Amanda Messer giggling and squealing as they played, and his sister and her husband playfully and lovingly teasing one another, he realized that everyone that he loved and loved him the most, save from his children, were all under that one roof in Ridgewood, Queens.
Everything that mattered most was at home.
Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you. The support means so much to me! So please R and R folks!
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