"Mom.." Flynn greeted his mom, happier than she'd seen him in some time. "You'll never guess what happened to me today!'

Part of Skylar just wanted to sit him down and tell him the truth, that his father was dead, but by the look of joy on his face, she knew the news could wait, if only for a minute. "What's that, honey?" she managed to ask, without a trace of excitement in her voice.

Flynn, oblivious to his mother's pain, continued. "You know that girl Lindsay that called here? Well there's a dance next Friday. She...she wants me to go with her. Mom, please, I'll be careful. I've never..never been asked to a dance before. I never had a date before. Please, Mom. I'll do dishes all week if you just let me go."

Her heart was breaking as it never had before. On one hand she should be thrilled for her son, but on the other, his world was about to take a turn that he'd never seen before, one that he shouldn't have had to even think about. She grabbed a throw pillow and held it in her hand.

Flynn knew what that meant. It was time for a family meeting, and whoever held the pillow got a chance to say what was on their mind. They'd done it before, when his father was sick and didn't want to go through chemo. Part of him wanted to protest, but he was in too good of a mood to argue with his mother.

"Flynn, honey, there is something I have to tell you..." she started.

"Mom, did you hear me? A date!"

"I know that, but please hear me out. I don't know how to begin..." her voice drifted off, memories of her dead husband's body cradled in her lap still fresh in her mind.

"What...what is it, Mom?" Despite his excitement, he could sense that something was troubling his mother. What it was, he had no idea, but somehow it probably had to do with his father.

"Flynn, your father was back in town..."

"Dad...I mean Walter? Did you call the police? I hope he gets what's coming to him. I hope he ..I hope he never gets a chance to hurt Aunt Marie or anyone else again. Did you call the cops? Because if you don't ...I will!"

"Flynn, listen to me. This is hard for me to say, and it will be harder for you to hear...God I hate him for making me do this!"

"What is it, Mom? What did he do this time?" Flynn sighed, a hint of annoyance at being disturbed from his daydreams of his first date.

Everyone grew silent; no one quite knew what to say. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Skylar set down the pillow on the couch beside her and placed her hand on her son's. "Your father is dead," she said, careful not to reveal any of the messed up feelings she was going through.

She watched him carefully, looking for any sign of remorse, of hurt, of sorrow. Instead, he repeated his question. "Can I go to the dance?"

"Flynn, didn't you hear me?"

He stood up and while balancing himself on one crutch, he took the pillow and threw it across the room. "What do you want me to say? That I miss my dad, that he was my hero, the man I wanted to be like when I grew up? A year...a year ago I might have said that, but now...but now I can't. If you want to sit and cry over him go ahead. But I...I can't. I won't cry over him. I gotta go."

She stood up and followed him. "Flynn, talk to me. No matter what happened he was your father, and now he's gone! Surely you must be feeling something, sad, mad, confused..."

"What's to be sad about? The man that killed all those people in jail is gone? The man who took Holly from us...the man who..the man who killed my Uncle Hank is dead, and you want me to sit around and cry for him? Maybe...maybe I just don't care. I don't care if my dad is dead. There, are you happy now?"

Skylar put her hand over her mouth, having not knowing how her son would react to the news. "Please, talk to me. I'm your mother and I want what's best for you..."

"You want what's best for me? What about Uncle Hank? Do you just...do you just expect me to forgive and forget what he did to Aunt Marie? Walt may have been my father, but who do you think it was that took me out to eat all the time? Who told me...who told me I can be anything I want in the world? Who tried to play football with me even though I could barely catch the ball? You want me to cry for a man who was the bad guy and ...and forget all about the good guy? I'm not you, Mom. Cry for him all you want. For me...I'm going to the dance and there's nothing you can say to stop me!"

Flynn struggled to make it out the door, but he was sure to slam the door behind him. That was so unlike him. Skylar always knew where her kids were at at all times, but something kept her from going after him.

The events of the evening were just too much for her. But she wouldn't break down, not now. She couldn't. If she did, that would have meant that Walt had won. But he hadn't. He would never hurt her family again.

Taking out a cigarette, she lit it then pulled back the kitchen, watching her son drive away in the car that Walt had bought for him. Walt was dead; she herself witnessed his passing. She should have felt relief, but instead an overwhelming sense of grief overcame her like never before. No matter what had happened, she refused to believe that Walt was all evil. After all, he'd given her the two biggest miracles of her life. But as soon as she inhaled the first breath of smoke from the cigarette, her daughter began to cry. After taking another quick puff she returned to her motherly duties.

Wearily, she made her way to Holly's room, where she picked her daughter up from the crib. Holly was so young; she had no idea what their life had become. But Flynn was old enough, and no matter how hard she had tried, the truth had come out in the end, and her little family was in trouble, probably even more trouble than ever before. As she cradled Holly close to her, she closed her eyes for a minute and it was only the sound of a faint "Mama" that brought her back to reality. Holly. So young, so innocent. Marie had been right about one thing: she had lost her husband a long time ago. All she had left were her children, and even then, no one, not even her kids could fully understand what she had lost. Her sister might have, if the circumstances were different. But right now she was all alone, and all she wanted to do was break down and cry, grieve over the man she'd once loved. Cry for her children and everything that had been taken from them. But as it was, Holly needed her, so her tears would just have to wait. For how long, she didn't know, but as long as she held her daughter in her arms, she refused to give in to the hurt she was experiencing.

Yes, Walt was gone now. But in a way, the mess he'd created for them was just beginning.

tbc