A/N.: Thanks to my beta 6footer. have fun=)

26. Right – you can't make right, what others did wrong

S.

I can't take my eyes off of the letter. This is worse than a never ending nightmare. I rub my eyes with my palms, hoping my vision might clear up disclosing the mistake I've been making the whole time, while reading the letter. My vision doesn't improve and the symbols don't change either. Not the words themselves worry me, but the sense behind their alignment.

"Sandy, don't worry. He probably was only as shocked as you are." My Mom tries to sooth the storm, which is raging inside of me.

"Mom, he looked at the result and shrugged it off, as if it meant nothing. He just left me standing in the middle of the corridor as if…these result were negative." I am angry. I don't know how to deal with what I'm feeling right now. There is this agony of bickering paradox emotions: rage, because the way my father acted is unacceptable, versus the relieving equilibrium of knowing he won't treat his new found son differently from the rest of us; increasing hope, because there is actual hope for a cure, versus the fear that arises at the thought of having to explain the situation to him; happiness, because there has always been an undeniable connection between me and him, versus the additional tension which this might cause to what I have done to him.

"You know how he is." This is supposed to help me.

"I know. He left us without a word. So, how shall I interpret his reaction as a positive one? He had expressed more than clearly that he doesn't accept him as his son, as he never accepted us as his children." I conclude.

"But it's futile racking your brains about it too, because you can't change it."

"You don't understand this. Ryan doesn't need another father who doesn't give a shit about him."

"He doesn't know it different. I doubt he'll care when he finds out. He has you, he doesn't need someone else."

"Yeah, but I'm…his brother! I tried to be a father figure for him and then…I don't even know what this will mean to him, after what I did to him. It's just…"

"Twisted." My Mom finishes the sentence for me. This is weirder than twisted. It's all over crazy, and I'm sure if I told some shrink he would label me as a nutcase.

"Know what? We have dinner together and then you sit down and brood about how to approach the rest of this topic. He might ignore the fact that he has another son, but he's no murderer. He's stubborn as hell, but that he went with you and got this test done is the best prove that he has a heart, somewhere." My Mom is right. I doubt Ryan would want any contact with such a father. He had…sounded indifferent about this topic, so I doubt he'll be too enthusiastic to get to know his biological father. Anyway, he is a grown up man and now child anymore. He isn't in the need for a father figure. He needs his life back. That's the only thing that counts from now on.

The next morning I get my bearings back together and go back to him. I have to find out whether my mother only said the words for their sake of being words, or because she knew she was speaking the truth. I knock the all too familiar door. It's only a short time, but I already know who's hiding behind it. This door definitely has been witness of some important turning points.

"You again?" The man, my father, states blankly.

"Me again. I…wanted to talk to you about your…son." I reply in a similar blank attempt.

"There's nothing to talk about." He shoots back and wants to close the door. I react and put my foot between door and frame. A sigh erupts, a nagged one.

"You hid for over forty years from your responsibilities, and we let you, but I won't let you hide any longer, not on he expenses of…my brother." My heart is pounding under my throat, the blood rushes in my head giving me the feeling of too much oxygen and my stomach is flip-flopping while I refer to Ryan as my brother.

"What's so difficult about understanding three words? I. Don't. Care! I never cared. I never even wanted to have kids, but the self-righteous bitch of your mother was too sensitive to get an abortion done. I wanted none of you and your mother kept becoming pregnant." His confession hits me like a rock. What is he thinking? Or does he think at all? Externalising the whole responsibility and concealing his part under denial. It's the first time I realise that he's not much different from my clients in the P.D's office. It had never been their fault either. Bad fortune, no other way and other's people doing was to blame for what they were doing. I watch how the image of the man in front of me slowly converts into that of a delinquent.

"And you kept fucking around without protection, so you're not better than anyone else!" I scream back. I won't have him blaming my mother for having us. I for once am grateful that she did what she did. He's only mad. He had made his bed and she had forced him to lie in it, until he decided to leave her alone with his mistakes. How low is it from my side to think about my siblings, myself and Ryan as a mistake? We're no mistakes, but human beings who had no choice. We had no sayin this. Somebody else determined the point of time for our emergnce on the world's stage.

"It was an accident. Everybody could have been the father of that bastard."

"Don't call him that!"

"I call him what I want him to, you don't have to listen to it."

"Okay, call him what you want to, but he still needs you. I don't care if you turn your back on him, as you did on us. But if you do, he'll die and it's you who's to blame for it. Do you want to have to live with the guilt for the rest of your life? Is this really what you want?"

"You can only feel guilty if the person you feel it towards is actually meaning something to you, but he's nothing but a number for me. Not even that." After he said it, I take me foot out of the slide between door and frame and let him slam it shut, in the well formed certainty that he won't open it ever again, to any of us. Now it's me who has to make things right again. This operation is doomed to failure. I didn't even manage to make the beating and its prehistory right again. How am I supposed to get this straight too? The best thing for now was, if I went home and explain it to Kirsten. She'll understand and hopefully help me with the rest. I feel bad and guilty for putting her through this. She's already exhausted. I can see that everyday is a fight for her. She cannot handle watching another person she loves dying like that. But I can't do this alone. I promise her now that after everything is over, I'll invite her to a spa vacation, only the two of us. No stress and just getting spoiled. This is what she deserves and we both need it.

"It didn't go well, right?" My Mom asks when I enter her apartment. I shake my head and join her in the kitchen. She's preparing lunch. I'm not hungry and the sight if the food is enough to annoy my stomach even further.

"Need some tea?" She asks me with concern in her eyes. I nod. She knows me. I'm her son, and no matter how badly I've hurt her when I left for California without her permission or even a note, she'll never deny me being her son. She fully acknowledges me as such, although I caused trouble and hurt, even more after my father left. I gave her a hard time, especially as a teenager, and she still has my side. She never let me down and she's the best proof of that she never will.

"You know, this is no reason for losing hopes. Remember: you still have some siblings and I'm sure they'll get tested and help you, if one of them is tested positive." She assures me while she places the mug of hot steaming tea in front of me. My siblings.

"You think that a brother might be a suitable match?" I ask her. Why haven't I been thinking about this option?

"I don't know, but I'm certain that it won't harm getting them tested. You have to take all options you get." She says, sitting down opposite of me and taking my hands into hers.

"I can't believe that this didn't occur to me." I simply add.

"What? You didn't get tested?"

"Why? I'm a complete stranger. We all are. There was no real chance that one of us…" I trail of when I notice my mother's stern look.

"Anyone of the donor list would be a complete stranger as well. No matter how small a chance is, it still is a chance. You cannot reasonably explain to me, why you haven't been tested, any of you. What kind of family are you? I sometimes get the awful feeling that you don't care as much about Ryan, as you want to make me believe. All of you." The fury in her eyes is intimidating and I feel like the teenager I had been, after my mother got yet another call from school that I was beeing disrupting classes repeatedly. Reinforcement of discipline was the worse thing ever and I'm still afraid of it. Mother without mercy is what we used to call her when she had to rear one of us.

"Sorry Mom, but…when we found out about it…we were all overwhelmed. Despite we never thought we'd see Ryan again, we had to accept him being sick and watch him like a hawk not playing it down and actually taking care of himself. We were wrapped up in getting him accepting his illness that we couldn't even think about this." I try to justify my recklessness.

"And what now?"

"I have to tell him and Kirsten and Seth. This won't be easy, for any of us. Until now it was Caleb who was responsible for our curious patched family relationships."

"And self-pity won't help you. It might be painful, but you should go home as soon as possible and relieve your conscience. Putting it off will only make it worse."

"I'm afraid." I say plainly. There's no need for beating around the bush. I'm simply afraid that this will push Ryan even further away from our family.

"You don't have to. Ryan's smart. He'll understand."

"Yeah, he's smart, but he's also hurt. I'm not sure whether he'll understand this. It's like I'm the one who's loading his mind with more and more shit."

"But you're also the one who's helping him dealing with it."

"He won't let me. Kirsten is already struggling getting him accepting her help. We aren't his family anymore and he seems content with it. This here makes him inevitably part of the family, no matter how far away he is, and I doubt that he wants to be part of our family."

"Well, he has to accept it than and true greatness is revealed by forgiveness and acceptance. He's young, and might not be a master in those two, but he'll become more mature and then he'll understand. I'm sure he will. Give him some time, but don't let him close the door shut for ever."