I press the buzzer to Sully's apartment. Twice. Three times. Ten times. One long, obnoxious time. "I don't think he's home, Dad," Victor mentions.

"Maybe..." I motion Elizabeth over and fish two bobby pins out of her hair. I then use them to pick the lock. When the door swings open, my children look at me in awe. I smirk, leading the way inside. I'm the coolest dad...

I take the steps two at a time. "Dad, slow down," Elizabeth pants. "We have tiny legs."

"Well, lets make it a race. Whoever wins gets ice cream when we get home."

And just like that, it's on. The tempo of their feet doubles. As a dad, I've found that ice cream is the greatest motivator, no matter the age.

I skip knocking on the door and go straight to the potted plant in the corner of the hallway. Sully's clichè and always has a spare outside the door in case of emergency. Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea. I find about ten keys barely covered in dirt. I have to test a few before one finally clicks. I throw the door open to an empty kitchenette and TV room. I allow worry to over take my system as I make my way down the hall to his room. "Sully?" I call, barging through the closed door.

My eyes adjust to the darkness and quickly make out a lump laying under the covers. A silent, unmoving lump.

I rush over to the bed and throw the covers back. "Sully!"

The shape springs to their feet, dragging a pistol from under their pillow with it. The weapon is cocked and pointed at my forehead before I can register the motion. He blinks to clear his eyes and wearily drops his shooting arm to his side. "Jesus-fucking-Christ, Nate." Sully all but collapses on his bed.

"You're telling me," I mutter, heart still pounding.

"What the hell were you thinking? I was one second away from pulling the trigger."

"You were going to shoot without asking?"

"Yes! You scared the-" He erupts into a coughing fit. It seems to rattle him to the bone.

"Breathe." I sit next to him and awkwardly rub his shoulder. Our roles are usually reversed. "Just... breathe. You okay?"

Sully takes a deep breath and is about to speak when Lizzy asks, "Uncle Sully?"

We both turn to see my children standing in the doorway, unsure of what's going on. "Hey, girly," Sully smiles, straightening up to cover his moment of weakness. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Dad said he had to check on something."

"Oh, I see." He stands, a bit stiffer than usual. "Hey, Vic! What's up, buddy!"

"Hi Uncle Sully!"

"Put 'em up, short stuff." Sully throws a few fake punches at my son. Victor bobs and weaves, taking a few shots at his namesake's abdomen. Sully laughs and grabs his grandchildren into a giant bear hug. "Let's have something sweet. My treat."

"Ice cream!" they both chant.

"Ice cream it is, then," Sully chuckles, leading the way into the kitchen.

I stand to the side as Sully further spoils my children with sugar. Elena was right (as usual). Sully's slowing down. He looks stiff and has dark, sleepless circles under his eyes. After Elizabeth and Victor are happily digging into their Rocky Road, I catch Sully's arm and drag him out of their ear shot. "What's wrong?" I whisper.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"How would you know?"

"You won't look me in the eye."

"So I did teach you something. Huh, could've fooled me."

"Sully, don't try to change the subject. Something's wrong."

He sighs. "Fine. I'll tell you later. It's not appropriate for ice cream time." I give him a look as he heads back to the table where Victor's trying to wipe up a spill with his sleeve.