Chapter 16

"So, Joey Lawrence John Kent, what are you doing up here?" David Kent asked his son as he stepped on to the roof.

Joey was leaning against the railings. Relaxing into the support and safety of them being there. His brought together, fiddling with his fingers.

"You know, it is only you and Steve who ever call me that," Joey more stated than questioned.

"Heh heh," David laughed nervously. "You are a lot like Luc; coming up here," he told his son, looking directly at him.

"He's not here anymore," Joey snapped.

"Since when? I thought he worked with Michael?"

"They don't even know they share a nephew. They're on different sides of the family, remember? And, besides, Luc is hardly the family kind of guy, is he?"

"So where'd he go?" David replied, ignoring the previous question - even though in his head he added that he agreed.

"Don't know. Possibly India"

"Why India?"

"Ah, he fell in love with someone who went over there. I don't know if he loved her. You know how confusing he is with his feelings and how difficult it is for him to show them," Joey responded, turning to face his father. "Look, where are you going with this conversation?"

"You," he pointed at Joey, "are going to explain"

"About?"

"Your little outburst back there. Sam told me - how you just ran without a word said. Or, even better, what the hell is going on at the moment. How are you coping?" David said with utmost concern as he began to walk over to where his son was standing.

"What is there to say?" Joey swung his head back and looked at the sky.

"You could tell me where Ajit is?"

"You don't know?" Joey whipped his head round in the direction of his father and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"No," David spoke, looking down to the floor. "He won't speak to me," he let out a shamed sigh.

Joey looked back up to the sky. Obvious. Of course, of course, he kept repeating in his head. "When did you last speak to him?"

"About five years ago," David replied, in shame.

"Last I heard, he moved over London way," Joey replied out of the blue and exhaled a large measure of breath.

"Right," David nodded slowly. Thinking. "So, what about you?"

"What about me?" Joey replied chuckling.

"Don't play stupid, son. Just tell me what's up. I am your dad after all"

"Eherm," Joey thought. Now he plays the 'I'm your dad' card? Typical. Bloody typical.

"Yeah. I know I haven't always been here. But, I am now. I want to talk to at least one of my sons"

Joey looked at his father. Into his eyes. He was reluctant. Was this man, his dad, genuinely sorry? Or was all just an act to win his forgiveness? Mixed thoughts cloud your judgement. The eyes said he was sorry, but the voice said otherwise.

"I'm only a boy. What do you think I feel like? I've been through shit my whole life, this is just a milestone. As they say, another day, another dollar," Joey took a long intake of the air, reclaiming that loss of oxygen beforehand. It always made him relax that little more - up here.

"You're calling yourself only a boy?" David asked in mock seriousness.

"Yes, dad, I am. In the eyes of the law, I am still a minor. You are the man in this, not me. Stand up from now on," Joey raised his voice, ever so slightly.

David was momentarily taken aback by the words. He really did need to stand up now. He needed to be there for his children. Thinking back, to the day Joey's mother walked out, he wasn't really there. He thought he couldn't ever be there for them; lost with knowing she was never coming back anytime soon. Now, he's trying to take the steps of becoming a good father to them in present and future. He came back five years ago, and only now has he thought, really thought, about his responsibilities. He mentally kicked himself as he opened these thoughts. For always being a coward and hiding himself from the hard truth.

Joey slumped to the ground and leant against the freezing railing. A sudden gust of cold wind swept over the roof. His jacket was open, so he pulled it tightly around him; not bothering to zip it up. He brought his knees up to his chest and rolled his head back.

David lowered himself next to his son, who was now staring dead ahead with the expression of anger plastered over his face, and copied his position. David turned to look at the boy.

"Claire, the kids and I are moving over here. Thought it'd be good to move closer to you and Tom," David tentatively asked.

"What?" Joey spat, anger clear in his voice, but unseen to his father. He lost himself in his own questions. His mind going into overdrive. Panic. But not physically view able. Not panic; realization. The realization that he needed to get his brother on side. He couldn't deal with all this alone.

"Yeah. We've bought a house a bit into the country. About a twenty-minute drive from here. There's a lot of land and overall it's a great place. I'll tell you more about it later," he rushed out the words. Making in all too difficult to process easily. "Now, I was thinking, maybe you'd like to live with us?" David carefully put across.

"What about Taylor? Ask her. What about Tom? I can't just say 'I'm going to live with dad.' Well?" Joey asked, not knowing what he really wanted.

"The offers there. It's your choice. I've asked your sister. She says she'll think about it. And with Tom, he's not always going to want his little brother there. Him and Sam might want to start a family or something and they won't necessarily want you there," David explained.

"Oh thanks, dad," Joey said sarcastically and then continued with a slightly more firm tone, "to be honest, I don't think Tom and Sam are all that serious. There seems to have been something going on between the two lately. Don't know what; just something."

"Really? They seemed pretty close last time I was here," David sighed. "You kids don't make it half hard for me, do you?"

Joey reached into his jacket pocket and fished around. He fingers closed around a small box and a thin rectangular object. He pulled them out. "Here," he said to his dad. His dad had a horrified look over his face. "Don't worry; they're not mine."

David took the cigarettes and the lighter. He lit the toxic paradise and dragged in a high amount of chemicals. "Thanks," and then released his breath.

Joey made a small chuckle and resumed the conversation, "you, dad, didn't make it half hard for us, did you? Look, I can't forget what happened, but I can be more acceptant than Tom. I'm willing to get on with you as my dad. I'll make Tom come around. Somehow," Joey smiled. The truth always has a negative and a positive, he guessed.

"Thanks, mate. I take back that you and your brother are so similar. You seem to have the power of words while Tom has the power of stupidity. He always has to go fuck it up," David said with bland disgust.

"To certain extents. But no. Not always. Yes, some of the times. He's my brother; I can't put him down too much. He's been there for me, I'll be there for him. I get pissed off with him, so does everyone. Like I said, he's my brother. It's that simple," Joey expressed.

"I understand, son. Yes he is your brother. I'd say the same things about my brothers," David agreed. "Now, should we go back downstairs? It can't be too good for your health at the moment."

"You can talk," Joey tutted as his eyes laid on the object in his father's mouth.

"Come on," David ushered his son up and over to the door.

"Fine, let's go," Joey laughed and sped back to the haven of the hospital and its many illnesses.

There was a forewarning of language.