A/N: One of my favorite chapters so far.

Adam turned the water glass around and around on the table, watching the condensation move across the plexiglass top. He'd ordered a pastry but hadn't touched it, taking tiny sips of water while he made quick glances out the window. He'd been early to the meeting and he suddenly wished he had made a worse impression and been late instead. No one in the world would have guess at his nervousness, just sitting here. He didn't fidget much, and looked like he was casually waiting for someone to show up. Of course he knew that he was going to start rambling and stuttering the second he had to speak. Lindsay was the only person who had ever been able to calm his speech in situations like that, just by being in the room with him. He wished she was here now to smile at him or make a joke about Godot or something else that would just be between them, a quiet port in the midst of chaos.

He smiled as he thought of her, the way she had looked this morning before he left; her hair all curled around her face, sitting gently on her shoulders. The black turtleneck that seemed to brighten her eyes, while the old blue jeans made her look taller, stronger. She'd held his hand for a long time before he left as their foreheads pressed together and his breathing had slowed to normal. She'd pulled away a little and kissed him, with as much love as she could convey. A tiny smile and a few words of encouragement had followed him out the door and he recalled them now, taking a deep breath as the coffee shop door opened.

If looks were any indication, there wouldn't be a DNA test needed. Tim looked just like him. They stared at each other for a moment across the room, contemplating, and Adam realized that he wasn't the only one nervous about this. He stood up from the table as Tim approached, and hesitantly they shook hands.

"Hi."

"Hi."

They both sat down, looking anywhere but at each other for several minutes before they got their bearings.

"I didn't know what to order you so…" Adam began, twisting his ring around his finger.

"I'm not really sure I want anything just yet," Tim replied, clearing his throat.

"So."

"So."

"How'd you find out about me?" Adam blurted finally.

"I've always known about you. Dad told me when I was a kid that I had a brother. Said he made some mistakes and you and your mom left him."

"Yeah."

"He never told me where you were though. I always just thought that… well, I thought you guys took off for no reason. I still don't know what happened, but I'm not really interested in that."

"Story for another day."

"Yeah. Anyway, I always wondered where you were and what you were like. I didn't start looking really seriously until I got engaged. I was hoping to find you before the wedding, but… well anyway, I found you now."

Adam nodded.

"So how's this thing supposed to go?"

"I have no idea," Tim chuckled with a shake of his head.

"I gotta ask you, and I don't want you to be offended, but I have to make sure. Did he put you up to this?"

"Dad? No. He doesn't even know. We're not that close. I mean, no offense to him, he was a great dad, we just never really had much in common."

"He was a great dad?" Adam asked, swallowing hard.

"Yeah. In the provided for us, loved us kind of way. I mean, I don't exactly want to be just like him, but I've seen worse. He was always around. Never skipped out on us."

"Oh."

"So um… you said you're married? Got some kids of your own?"

"Yeah, yeah," Adam said, shaking his head to rid himself of the revelation. "Lindsay and I, we've got two boys. Colton's three, Ben's two months."

"Stacy wants kids soon. She wants girls though."

"I can't give you any advice on girls," Adam said, leaning back in his chair. "Bein' married doesn't even give you that much insight."

"Nah, not really. So uh, you work at the crime lab?"

"Yeah. Not as glamorous as it sounds, but it gets the bills paid. You?"

"Programmer. Video games."

"Is that right?" Adam asked, sitting up again. "For real?"

"Yeah. Working on a few big projects right now. Early stages, but it could be big."

Adam nodded and smiled, intrigued with his brother and forgetting for now the father that they shared.

"Hey babe, how'd it go?" Lindsay asked when Adam came home. "You were gone for a while."

"Yeah. It went fine. Where are the boys?"

"They both conked out at the same time, if you can believe that. Come sit down, tell me what happened."

He just shook his head and went into the kitchen, leaning over the sink and staring out the window. Lindsay joined him after a second lightly running her hand over his back, then moving closer and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"Hon, what happened?"

He sighed and shook his head then turned and looked at her.

"My father. He never hit Tim."

She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, feeling absolutely conflicted at that fact. On the one hand she would never wish beatings on any child. But on the other hand, she was pretty certain how this was making Adam feel.

"He told you that?"

"Yeah. All these years, I thought he was just an alcoholic with anger issues. Now I find out that it really was just me."

"Oh, Adam. It wasn't you. It was his fault. He made those decisions."

"I'm tired of hearing that," he said, pushing back from the sink and going to the fridge. "I need a drink."

She watched as he flung the door opened and grabbed one of the beers that was still sitting there from the last time the guys were over for a game. Neither one of them drank, they both had issues with alcohol and it was never in the house, so the chances of it being there when he was so angry and hurt only made Lindsay grab it out of his hand faster.

"What was so wrong with me?" he asked as she ripped the cap off the beer and watched it chug down the sink. "Why wasn't I enough for him? Obviously he could do the parenting thing without beating his kid to a pulp, so why me?"

"Adam-"

"Don't tell me he just had a problem, Lindsay. Don't tell me that because that doesn't help. The common denominator here is me. I was the one he hit. I was the kid that couldn't cut it for some reason. I was the one that wasn't enough. Every time he smacked me around, every time he told me I was a waste, I just started to believe that was a lie, and now I hear this. What am I supposed to think, Lindsay? That he only failed me because I failed him first? Because as soon as he got a more perfect child, all that anger and violence went away. He ran us off and then he was fine. So what was it? It was me. It was always me."

"Adam, stop-"

He cursed and punched the refrigerator door, leaving a small dent right on the weak point. Lindsay just stood there, her face not changing as she waited for him to meet her eyes. It took him a moment but he finally did, and all she saw there was guilt. He rushed across the room and took her into his arms, tears breaking free from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Linds. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll never hurt you. Never. I love you. I love you. I'm so sorry."

She held tightly to him, crying tears of her own as she felt his grief. Years and years of anger that he had never expressed flooded out from him and she wanted to push it all away, far away from their home, which was supposed to be filled with happiness and light.

"It's okay Adam. I know. It's all okay."

He pulled away after a while, ashamed at himself for crying, ashamed for lashing out, ashamed that she had seen that side of him. But her eyes didn't reflect any of that back at him. There was only compassion, not pity, love, not anger, patience, not frustration. She reached up and gently wiped his tears away, then moved him over to the table and sat him down. She disappeared for a moment, and he stared at the spot on the fridge that he had hit, recalling all the places in his childhood home that had been dented by his father's hand, or by his own body being used as a cannonball. He'd wanted so badly then to stand up for himself. But every time he had tried, he had been met with a fist, or a screaming insult. He'd never had that power, and even now he couldn't reign in his own emotions.

Lindsay returned after a few minutes, working the disposable ice pack in her hands. She looked at him, raked her fingers through his hair, then sat down on his lap and pressed the ice pack to his hand. He winced at the temperature change, pulling his hand away until she wrapped the ice pack in a towel and tried again. They sat like that for less than a minute before he pulled his hand away again.

"Adam, you're hurt."

"She used to do this."

"What?"

"My mom. She would always ice his hands and calm him down before she would help me. I'd sit there with a bloody nose and he'd scream at me for bleeding on the carpet, and she would just ignore it until he'd cooled down. Then she'd sneak away when he wasn't looking to come and check on me but by that time I'd already fixed myself."

"Babe, let me fix you this time."

"No. It has to hurt. I'm sorry, but I need to get out of here."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just do."

"Adam Ross, you had better come home tonight," she said, standing up from his lap. "And you'd better come home safe."

He knew exactly what she meant and he nodded sadly. She wanted to grab him and hold him until it all went away, but she knew better than that.

"I love you, Adam. No matter what."

"I know."

He walked for a long time, until it was dark even, winding through their neighborhood and even further. He was angry at himself for so many things, angry at his father, angry at his mom, and angry that he was so angry at all. He'd promised himself that he would never lash out like he had, never use a fist to make a point, never yell and most certainly never turn to the bottle to deal with it. And today, he'd failed on all of that. He couldn't blame Lindsay if she was upset or disappointed in him, or even if she was scared of him. It would hurt to see that in her eyes and he knew it wouldn't be there, but he wouldn't fault her if it was.

There was a lot of hurt too. Physically, his head hurt from the yelling and the stress and the angst of the whole situation. Emotionally, well that was a whole 'nother story, one he didn't really want to open right now. There was so much there; failure, betrayal, guilt, loneliness, shame. It made him feel so grimy and unworthy and he couldn't imagine that someone would love him how he was.

He wanted to go home, sink into Lindsay's arms and just let her hold him, feel her loving him to a greater degree than he had ever been hated. She was the first place he had ever felt completely wanted and safe and trusted. She was the first one to ever heal wounds and help him see himself without the scars. She was the one who gave him a reason. And the boys, he wouldn't be half the man he was without them. They saved his sanity, made him love in a way he never had. And the loved him back for no reason other than he was daddy.

He wanted his family and needed them, needed to be swallowed up in the peace and goodness they created. He headed home, breathing deeper as he walked, setting the negative feelings aside and letting the sorrow go until he could deal with it all a little better.

It was quiet when he returned home, Colton playing on the floor and Lindsay cuddling Ben on the couch. He stopped in the doorway and watched them for a minute, smiling when Colton jumped up and ran into his arms.

"Daddy! I missed you!"

"I missed you too, buddy," he said, holding on tightly and wishing the hug would never end.

"Me and mama maked dinner," he reported proudly. "I stirred the chili."

"You're a good helper."

"Yep. I eated already, but mama waitin' for you. You hungry?"

"Yeah, I could eat."

"He could eat, mama! I hold Ben?"

"Why don't we let Ben play on the floor and you can keep an eye on him for a little bit?"

Colton nodded, suddenly serious at the prospect of such a big job. Lindsay put Colton down on a blanket on the floor, and he fussed for a minute before Colton handed him a toy.

Lindsay took Adam's good hand and led him into the kitchen, pulling a new ice-pack out of the freezer and handing it to him wordlessly. He took it and she snaked her arm back around his neck, tugging on him until his lips met hers.

"I love you," she said, not breaking the contact. "No matter what."

"Thank you."

She smiled and moved to the stove, spooning up a bowl of chili for each of them before returning to the table.

"You wanna tell me about the good parts?"

He gave a little chuckle.

"He's a pretty cool guy. Video game programmer."

"Oh great."

"There was talk of our kids trying out some new games."

"I'm not surprised."

"We got along really well. We have a lot in common, same sense of humor."

"Oh no, there's two of you!" she chuckled.

"It was good. I'm glad I went."

"I'm glad you went too. It'll be nice for you to have that."

"I think so too."

They continued to eat, Adam telling her bits and pieces of his conversation with Tim and finding that all the good of this outweighed the bad by leaps and bounds.

"Daddy, you come play now," Colton said, patting Adam's knee.

"What should we play?"

"Don't care. Come on daddy, please?"

"Alright, let's go."

"Yay! You're the winner, daddy."

"The winner huh?"

"Yep you win all the daddies."

"You mean I'm the best?"

"Uh-huh!"

Adam chuckled and followed him into the other room, finding a little more of what he had been needing.

Her arms wrapped around him and he rested against her, letting her be the comfort and strength. He questioned why, he worried if he would be the same, he cried for the pain he had been through and the childhood he had lost and for the parts of him that he would never get back. His tears soaked through her shirt, her tears soaked his hair, but neither one of them moved for hours. She didn't speak one word, just held him as if he would slip away, kissed him like nothing else mattered, listened as if he offered verbal gold. She let him be mad, let him be sad, let him yell and let him be silent. Her hands gently soothed him, cooling the fire within and giving him something else to focus on. Soft silence caressed over old wounds, just as loving lips flitted over the skin that had been so harmed. Everything was slow and intentional as she comforted him and cherished him the best way she knew how. Her gaze conveyed more than any words ever could and he gave one last shuddering breath, dropping his head to her chest and breathing deeply, focusing on the warmth that radiated from her. She moved a little so they were face to face and she ran her hand over his cheeks, wiping away the anguish that he had never let out until this night. She kept her eyes on his as she kissed him, wanting him to feel as completely and permanently needed and loved as she did. He got the message, smiling against her lips and holding her against him, so grateful for her patience and understanding and trust in him. He would never in a million years be able to repay her for that, but he knew he would never need to. His eyes closed in exhaustion and he let himself fall into sleep.

"You're mine now, Adam," she whispered, running her hand up and down his back. "He can never hurt you again. You're mine now. Forever."