#explaining to do

He woke that morning, two days after the dreaded fifteenth and kissed Joe goodbye with an excuse of having some things to do down at the shelter, a trip to Hoboken so that he wasn't lying entirely and then of he went in the Audi. Through the Lincoln Tunnel and he popped out into Hoboken. He hadn't even friended either Kori or Jess on Facebook, just knew the general area and through pictures and posts, the house. People were so dumb as to what not to post now days. Seriously. 

He stood on the door step, glancing over the property. Typical New Jersey style house and yard. Grass was a bit long, maybe but not his to judge. He knocked, took a deep breath in and half hoped no one was home. And then the knob jiggled and Jessica answered. She hardly changed at all. Just a little older. Still beautiful. Still tanned skin and long hair. Still had beautiful brown-green eyes and she lit up like a light bulb when she recognized Rhys. 

"Holy, shit, you're alive! Oh my god! Hi! How are you?" She threw her arms around his neck and he pulled her into a hug because after almost twenty years, it was nice to be missed and not be hated for some mistakes you made as dumb kids. "I was starting to think you died in battle and your dads just didn't have the heart to tell me." She let go of him and just as Rhys was about to plead his case and explain what had actually happened, Kori came to the door, wiping his eyes, obviously just having woken up. 

He was Rhys' height. A little taller, maybe. His mother's complexion but Rhys through and through other than that. His lips, his eye shape, his nose and hair and bone structure. Just skinnier. More handsome even. The two stared at one another for a moment and Jessica took the liberty. "Right, um, Kori, this is Rhys, he's your father, I guess. Rhys, this is Kori, your son." And her blush was evident because after almost twenty years, the two were finally meeting and she felt like the world's worst mother. 

Rhys swallowed and held his hand out. And Kori was having none of that. He held his arms out and pulled the broader man in for a hug. "It's so nice to meet you." He said, and it felt so right and so real so excuse Rhys if he let a few tears fall. He knew what it was like growing up without a parent. "We were thinking-" Rhys held him tighter which was apparently a button to turn off the talking because Kori shut up and just held the older man tighter. Rhys, now sobbing, crying, and heart broken just stood there, hugging the younger boy. 

After they calmed down and got inside, Jessica had them sit and they all drank tea, ate a light salad and Rhys explained what really happened and to his surprise, neither were mad at Marcel and Patrick the way Rhys was. Apparently Rhys was the only one who felt wronged but that was his burden to carry. He showed them pictures of Joe, Joel, everyone in his life, the shelter, and his two UFC championship title belts, and Kori thought that was awesome but Jessica wasn't so keen on it. "You always were a hot head, she said, giggling. 

"So where do we go with this then?" Rhys asked. Because it had to be asked. It wasn't like he could just disappear again and it wasn't like he could have ignored the information that was given to him. 

Jessica smiled at her son and left the two men to talk while she did dishes in the kitchen. Kori looked over to the older man, looking an awful lot like himself and he shrugged. "Well, maybe we could have lunch again some time? Maybe even do a movie? Start off slow, you know? Get to know one another." Like dating but Rhys wasn't going to say that. 

"I'd like that. A lot." Rhys confirmed. Of course he'd talk to Joe about it, at some point. But when? Today, after he came home or after the first lunch with the kid. When would be a good time to say, Hey by the way I'm dating my son because my dads are awful and I'm sorry for making your life miserable in an attempt to make them happy. They didn't make a Hallmark for that. 

After a few hours, Rhys and Kori said their goodbye's to one another, hugged each other tight and Rhys went on his way, back home to Manhattan, passed both fathers who wanted to apologize. Rhys had nothing to say to them. And the whole thing just brought babies back up. How he never got to do the diapers or school or walking/talking/teething. How he never got to hold his baby and show off his baby. 

Rhys stormed into his parent's room, heated, pissed, hurt and confused. Joe was, sleeping? At work? Out? Shower? He wasn't sure right now. They moved around each other like silk on marble, smooth and seamless. "Care to explain about Jessica Adler?" He demanded once the door was shut. Marcel glanced to Patrick and it was obvious neither were prepared for this.

"Who said anything-" Rhys cut Patrick off before he could gasp out his final breaths. 

"Misses Johnson." 

"That nosy bitch," Patrick grumbled. "Yes, whatever she said, it's true. Jessica never got rid of the baby, she had him, we sent her money and told her and her family to stay away from you. You were in the academy, Rhys, for the first time ever, you were having a promising education. We didn't want a teenage pregnancy to ruin that. We were just doing what was best for you." Patrick defended himself and Marcel chimed in with, "And then you went off to the marines, and we weren't going to stop you Rhys. You had a career. We were so proud of you. If you knew about Kori-" 

Rhys scrunched his face up, hurt and confused and pissed beyond belief. "You know his name? You-you-you know his name?" 

"Well of course, son," Marcel said, gentle and calm, "We never abandoned him. He knows we are his grandparents. We brought him gifts every birthday, some from you, letters we wrote-" Patrick cut Marcel off, agreeing, "Yeah, it's not like he thinks you abandoned him. You're just a military man and you always wanted to meet him. And it's only been here lately that he's been itching to find you. I didn't think our lie would last forever but-" Patrick shrugged. 

And Rhys lifted up one of the pictures off the wall and tossed it at the television they were watching. It crashed through the screen with a vengeance and Rhys stood in the middle of the room, huffing and puffing and entirely enraged. Patrick's heart monitor picked up the fastening pace, the beeps grew louder and closer together and Rhys could feel his own keeping in time. 

"YOU WERE OFF PLAYING GRANDPARENTS TO A SON I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD?" He screamed, tossing objects off a dresser and onto the floor. Marcel was cringing now, holding Patrick's hand because neither have seen there son this pissed off. "MEANWHILE, I'M DRIVING JOE FUCKING CRAZY, TRYING TO FIND A WAY TO ADOPT A KID BEFORE YOU DIE SO I DON'T DISAPPOINT YOU BY NOT PROVIDING YOU FUCKING GRAND KIDS?" The phone in his pocket became a tossing object and it flew through the window with another crash of glass and out onto the street. "DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKED UP YOU BOTH ARE? I MEAN, REALLY! HAS ANYTHING EITHER OF YOU EVER DONE EVER BEEN FOR ME OR WAS IT ALWAYS FOR YOUR FUCKING SELVES?!" 

He went to leave, took a deep breath and turned around to face both men. Disgusted now, neither of them were worth his time now. "Liars," he said, calmly. "You both deserve exactly what you're getting right now. You- with the pain and dying and knowing your time is so close to being up. And you-" he looked to Marcel, "For aiding him. I hope you both rot in hell." 

He slammed the door behind him and wandered off to the bathroom to scream and cry and shout. To do whatever else he had to do to keep his mind from caving in with whatever the fuck just happened in there. How the fuck could anyone do that to their own kid?