The house was full of people, and they were all there for Harry. The little boy was thrilled and happy and overwhelmed. This was a party, a celebration with cake and presents and happy laughter, and it was all for him. Everyone in the house was celebrating his life and their happiness that they were privileged to share it with him. They'd had cake and he'd opened presents and everyone was enjoying the day.

All the cousins were in the backyard playing ball with some of the adults. The aunts were in the kitchen with Mommy, making more punch and little sandwiches that were just right for small hands. The uncles who weren't playing with the kids were grilling hotdogs and hamburgers with Uncle Mike. Zeus was in the middle of the ball game, chasing whoever happened to have the ball. When one of the smaller kids had it, the puppy gently tackled them with a happy bark, grabbed the ball and ran off to play keep away. After leading the children on a merry chase, he released the ball to Maggie and the game commenced.

Harry took a break from the game, stopping at the playpen on the porch where Aaron and Kevin were taking turns playing with Molly and Sean. He played with them for a little while before he continued into the house. Stopping by the kitchen, he got a cup of punch from his mother and he took a little sandwich which he carried to the couch. Climbing up onto the couch, he sat there, legs dangling, and drank his punch as he munched on his sandwich.

Bobby came into the room and stopped to watch the little boy for a few minutes. Continuing to the couch, he sat beside Harry. According to Dr. Bennett, Harry was quickly settling into the family as if he'd been born to them. Likewise, according to his pediatrician, with regular meals and proper nutrition, he was now growing along a normal growth curve. He might never catch up to reach his full growth potential, but there would be no way to know if he did. Regardless, the health concerns he'd been facing due to his malnutrition and neglect were rapidly fading without coming to fruition. Healthy of body and sound of mind, Harry was sliding into the role of a normal boy, one who was happy and cherished.

Taking another bite of his sandwich, Harry looked up at the man who was now his father, not by some quirk of biology or lapse in judgment, but by choice. He'd been brought into this life by Maggie and he was allowed to stay because he was the luckiest boy in the whole world. His nightmares that he was going to be sent away, back to that empty, cold apartment, for some perceived wrong he'd done, were rare now. Now he dreamed about playing ball and running in the park and other things that little boys are supposed to dream. He was now beginning to think about what he wanted to be when he grew up—a police officer like his parents or a firefighter like his uncle or a soldier or an astronaut or a cowboy. In his life before this one, he simply dreamed of growing up, of surviving his nightmare life to become a man. He never knew what the world had to offer as he scurried about like a little mouse, looking for food and trying to avoid getting cuffed by his father. He came from a world of pain and hunger and darkness into a life of happiness and plenty and light. Thanks to Maggie, he knew what it was to love and be loved.

Bobby reached out and lightly ruffled the little boy's hair. Only rarely did Harry ever cringe away from him any more, and he didn't now, allowing the contact, welcoming it even. "What are you eating?" Bobby asked.

Harry looked at the sandwich curiously. "Uh, a sammich."

He offered it to Bobby, who looked at it and handed it back. "Chicken salad," he said.

Harry smiled. "Mommy even put apples in it!"

Apples were Harry's favorite fruit. Bobby smiled warmly. "That's because Mommy knows how much you like apples, and they go well in chicken salad."

"Apples are good with eve'ything."

"Tell you what...apple season is coming up. When the apples are ripe, would you like to go to one of the orchards and pick some apples yourself?"

Harry's eyes got wide. "We can do that?"

"We sure can. And then I can teach you to make applesauce and we can make apple pie and apple cobbler."

The boy's eyes lit up and he wriggled with excitement. "When can we go?" he asked, trying to contain his excitement.

"Next month, once the apples are ripe."

"Has Maggie ever been apple pickin'?"

"I took her when she was little. She had a lot of fun."

Harry finished his sandwich and Bobby handed him his punch. After swallowing the last of it, he slid off the couch. "I can tell Maggie and Tommy, can't I?"

"Of course."

Glowing with excitement, Harry ran out of the house, calling for his sister and brother. Alex came in from the kitchen. "What's that all about?"

"I told him I'd take him apple picking."

She laughed. "I can't think of anything he'd love more."

"I thought he might like it."

She sat beside him and smoothed her hand over his hair. "How are you doing?"

In all honesty, he wasn't doing so well. He wasn't really up to dealing with a house full of people. Although he loved the extended family, two family gatherings in a week was a lot for him to take. He was used to the busy life that came with having four children, a puppy, a cat and a large spider, but adding four more families into the mix was a bit more than he could handle at the moment. Unable to explain himself, he just shrugged. "I don't know. This gathering seems...incomplete."

"Without Dad?"

He nodded, looking at his hands. She leaned forward to look at his face. He averted his eyes, but not before she saw the sorrow in them. On a good day, Bobby didn't cope well with loss and change. The past eight months had dealt him more than one serious blow and he was still reeling under the weight of it all. His mother's death and the accident he'd gotten into immediately following it left him floundering for months. He'd rallied some after Harry joined their family and he took on the undercover assignment to get Martin Gomez. The pursuit of Gomez gave him a purpose that his life had lost when he was unable to work. After that, Deakins retired, the timing of which she still questioned, and Ross had further upset the balance of Bobby's life by ending their partnership. As much as she sometimes resented Mike Logan for his special place of prominence in Bobby's life, Alex was simultaneously grateful for Mike's closeness to her husband. Ross' willingness to partner Bobby and Mike, while not the best decision for the captain's mental health, saved Bobby from another nearly endless string of partners who wouldn't work out. Along with that huge change in his work life came Denise's pregnancy and fatal diagnosis and then John's death. She wasn't sure he could take any more, and she hoped that fate was done trampling him and kicking him when he was down.

Gently, she touched his chin. When he didn't make any move to pull away from her, she guided his face toward hers as she moved in to press her lips lightly against his. His hand touched hers as she increased the pressure against his mouth. Raising his other hand, he slid his fingers into her hair as he turned toward her. She pressed her body against his and he folded his arm around her, teasing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She sensed a desperation in him that was often there of late and she relaxed in his embrace, allowing his tongue entry to tangle with hers. He made a soft noise, reassured by her acceptance of his advances, despite the crowd of people just outside the room. She responded to his quiet moan.

"Hey, hey, hey..." came a scolding voice from across the room. "Keep it rated 'G'. There are children around."

Alex pulled back and gave her teasing sister a playful scowl. Bobby leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. "I...need a break," he said into her ear. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?"

"I, uhm, I just need...to be alone, for a little while."

She hesitated, but then nodded. "Be careful, will you?"

"I'll be fine." He gave her a soft kiss and whispered, "I love you."

She watched him cross the room and leave the house. Reggie sat beside her. "Was it something I said? I was just kidding..."

Alex reached out and touched her sister's arm. "No, it wasn't you. He's having a hard time, and a houseful of people is a bit much for him right now. He'll be back later."

"Are you okay?" Reggie asked.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just...worry about him. He's had a lot to deal with lately, and Dad's death hit him hard. In some ways, I think it hit him harder than it did us."

"How can you say that, Alex? Losing Dad was devastating for us."

"I know that, and I'm not trying to minimize our grief. But think about it for a minute, Reggie. Bobby never had a father who loved him and valued him as a person until Dad. Even before I married him, Dad was always good to him, always fatherly. Dad loved him as a son before he became his son. You have no idea how important Dad was to him. We always had Dad, and we have a lifetime of good memories to sustain us. Bobby doesn't have that, and now he never will. He was less prepared to lose Dad than we were."

Reggie thought about her sister's observations. "Is there anything we can do?"

Slowly, Alex shook her head. "No. I can give him love and support, but this is something he has to work through himself. I wish there was more I could do for him."

After a moment, Reggie got to her feet. "Come on, Alex. Let's watch the kids for a little while. That always cheers you up."

With a sad smile, Alex hugged her sister and they went outside to watch the little kids play with the adult ones.

The hot sun beat down on the quiet cemetery as Bobby approached the new grave. No headstone had been set yet, but it had been ordered. The freshly turned dirt had settled and grass seed had been planted seven feet above the casket that had been laid beneath it six days earlier.

His emotions were spinning at the edge of his control, and grief was beating its way to the surface. Six days since they'd buried his father-in-law and he had yet to deal with his loss. Alex had managed to work her way through it, although she would always miss her father. He had buried his grief as deeply as it would go so he could be there for his family. He could not do both because he knew his grief would overwhelm him. John Eames had been like a father to him, more than any other man in his life, and his death left a huge emptiness that he instinctively knew would never be filled.

He dropped to his knees beside the new grave, his chin on his chest. The throbbing pain in his injured knee offered a distraction he welcomed, but as the pain subsided, grief swept in to take its place, unwanted and unwelcome, but very strongly there nevertheless. He closed his eyes and finally, his grief washed over him.

The sun was low in the western sky when he surfaced from the depths of his grief, a grief that was not just for John, but for his mother, too. Although she'd been gone for eight months, he had been able to put off dealing with his loss until now. Everything hit him at once—his mother, his father-in-law, Denise's illness and imminent death—and he was drained, physically and emotionally. But he had one more visit to make.

Slowly, he walked the half-mile across the cemetery to his mother's grave. Standing in the summer twilight, he bowed his head and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ma. I should have been a better son, but I did the best I could. I know I disappointed you, and I'm sorry."

A gentle breeze ruffled his sweaty hair as he stood there with his head bowed, his eyes closed. The world around him faded and he lost himself to his memories. By the time he drew himself from the past, it was dark, and he was alone among the headstones, or so he thought. As he began to walk away from his mother's grave, someone called his name.

Turning, he was surprised to see his brother standing several feet away from where their mother was buried. He had not seen Frank since he showed up at the Eames' home after their mother's funeral. That visit had not gone well, not at all. He was surprised that his brother had called to him, considering he had threatened to kill Frank the last time he saw him. But he had no energy left to expend on his brother at the moment. He took the time to study his older brother, who he'd looked up to when they were boys, but he had no emotion left over for him now.

Frank studied his little brother in turn, and he felt a powerful surge of pride for the man he had become. He had a family who adored him, a career of which he could be proud. The terrified child who had cowered in the shadow of their mother's illness and their father's abuse and had desperately needed his big brother's love and protection had grown up to become a real hero, one who saved others' lives at the risk of sacrificing his own. But Bobby looked tired, beaten by circumstances Frank could not imagine. Quietly, he asked, "How's your little girl, Bobby?"

"She's fine," Bobby answered.

"She's a spirited little thing, isn't she?"

"She's...a lot like her mother," Bobby said, his tone guarded. "She thought she was...protecting me."

Frank laughed, a quiet, amused sound. "She sounds like her father, trying to save the world. She sure took me out."

Bobby smiled. "She did, and you deserved it."

"Yeah, I did. I shouldn't have showed up like that...but I...it was the only way I could make it through her funeral. I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm not as strong as you are."

"I'm not strong, Frank. I...I cope by not dealing with my feelings. It's a coward's way out."

Frank shook his head. "You're not a coward, little brother. You took care of Mom all these years and it couldn't have been easy. You're raising a family and you have a career you can be proud of. You deal with life without hiding in a cloud of drugs. I'm proud of you."

Bobby looked at the grave that separated them. "Don't waste your pride. I have my own vices that help me get through the challenges of my life."

Frank approached him slowly. "Can we talk? I swear I'm sober. I felt I owed Mom that much, to be sober when I come to say hi."

Too worn out to give any effort to thought, Bobby nodded. The brothers left the cemetery together.