I'M BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do not shoot me! I know!!! I know it's been fucking forever, please put your weapons down. I'm sorry.

If you follow any of my accounts, you know this month was my bday month and I had university exams and assessments all due in. That took priority so I've not been writing much, but life and all that. My last exam is Wednesday, but I finally got the time to finish this chapter that I've been trying to write since the 12th of May loooool.

It had been a struggle. But it's finally done and I AM SO SO SO PROUD OF IT.

This chapter honestly should be 2 but I just put it in one, so it's nice and long.

I wrote the majority of it to Amen by Amber Run so I'll put it when you should ideally play it, but I had it just running in the background after that.

Alright, enjoy!

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Damon's P.O.V

I glance at my old man from over Will's shoulder and my nerves immediately take flight.

What if I fucked it up?
What if I said something wrong?

What if I hurt him more?

What if I made everything worse?

"Hey," Will says, resting a gentle hand on my cheek to bring my eyes back to him. His kind blue eyes like gentle skies, "everything's going to be okay."

There's no reason to be scared or nervous - he finishes through our link - nothing bad is going to happen.

Smiling, I let myself lean into his palm with a nod. 

Will's touch was loving as he stared up at me with those perfect eyes that lulled my nerves.

"I know," I say eventually, turning enough to press a kiss to the inside of his palm.

Will smiles cheerfully, his expression and posture relaxed in all the ways I wanted to be right now. But it was hard to match his mood when the day for Pops and me to spend some time together had finally arrived. 

While I was looking forward to it, to just talking to him about everything, as it got closer, my nerves decided to play with my seams and now I felt like I might unravel. 

But I had Will and he always made the world feel less daunting.

I pull him in for a hug and he holds me tight, squeezing me while I inhale him deeply. Small as he was, Will somehow made it feel as if he were the one surrounding me when we held one another, like he was protecting every part of me - especially the vulnerable ones.

"I'll be back before you know it," I whisper but he only laughs against my chest.

I get a poke to my side and a smile I knew was  on his lips without even seeing it, "I know you will, and while I'll miss you very much, I'll survive without you for a day or two."

"Are you sure?" I draw back to look at him and as predicted, my sweet mate was grinning for all the world to see. I quirk a brow, "Will you really be okay? Because I'm pretty sure you'll cry yourself to sleep tonight."

Will chuckles and leans forward, his eyes dropping to my lips, "I think you're self-projecting babe."

"Maybe," I mumble before I let our lips meet.

I pull Will in even tighter as I kiss him with all the need and want I knew being apart would form inside of me.

Will and I hadn't spent a single day apart since I told him everything about me, and while logically I knew I'd survive without him for a day, the comfortable press of our bond against my heart told me I was dead wrong.

Just the thought of spending a night without his arms around me was excruciating.

"I'll miss you," he whispers against my lips, "but I'll be okay and I know you will too."

I nod and steal another kiss from him that makes him smile against me as he drags me down for more.

"You are my happiness," I promise, and Will's smile brightens like sunlight as his cheeks warm and he shivers against me.

"You are my happiness," he repeats before we finally part, and while it stung to do so, the sight of my mark on his shoulder was all the reassurance I needed.

Will was my mate. My man. My human. My heart. My love. My forever.
A day without him wouldn't change that.

Glancing back at Pops, I find him pressing a kiss to dad's forehead and then his lips as they hold one another tight. Dad whispers something that makes Pops smile and he goes back for another loving kiss before he looks towards us. 

His smile turns a little nervous when his eyes catch mine, but it doesn't waver.

"Ready?"

I hoped so.

You are - Theo says before any more doubt could form.

Nodding, I smile back at him, "yeah, I am."

I steal one final kiss from Will and hug dad bye before I head after my old man. Settling into step beside him, we head towards the woods behind the house together.

He doesn't say a word and neither do I, there wasn't much to say now when this part was familiar and easy.

Pops shifts first, letting it come over him like a passing breeze that had him standing on four paws within seconds. His massive black wolf never ceased to be daunting but it was also comforting when I realised that I hadn't seen his shifted form in months.

I look over my shoulder at Will and he waves from beside dad, his dazzlingly smile still present.

You'll be fine - Will vows through our link and I smile.

Thanks, I'll see you soon - I reply before I let myself shift as well.

The change from a man to a wolf probably shouldn't have been as pleasant to me as I found it was, but it'd always been like that for me.

Shifting was easy because afterwards there was no talking, no responsibilities, nothing to cloud my mind. It was just instincts and living properly as a part of my surroundings because of this wonderful other side of me.

When my claws dug into the soil and I was covered by fur, all I had to do was run and let myself feel. With Theo leading me, I felt like something bigger than myself, and that had always been comforting to me.

The only thing that had never been comforting as a wolf, was the way I had to overpower those same instincts whenever I shifted near my parents or Levi.

It was easier controlling the alpha urges on two feet, but in our most primal forms, it was far harder to ignore the urge to challenge or grow defensive with another shifted alpha nearby.

Sometimes it created an itch under my bones that made me feel like someone was trying to claw themselves out of me, other times it was like a loud humming noise that rung in my ears, demanding that I took action. 

But every time I met those red eyes, as I did now, that feeling faded away.

They were my father's eyes and I knew them well.

They were the eyes of the man who showed up to every game of every sport I swore would be 'the one' when I was a kid. The eyes of the man who threatened to disown me every time I mentioned his age, only to rib me and wrestle with me until we were both nothing but a laughing mess of limbs.

He was my dad. My old man. Pops. 

There was no changing that connection, no matter what genes said, and as memories begin to flash between us, my nerves slip away entirely and I let a flicker of my own excitement pass through our bond.

Pops' eyes light up immediately when he feels it, and he shifts impatiently on his paws before he nudges me playfully and gestures towards the woods. Fire ignites in my eyes and he catches it immediately - he takes off.

I follow him without a second thought.

We keep a steady, fast pace as we run through the familiar parklands, being careful not to exhaust ourselves too quickly. The plan was to go far beyond pack lands and we'd need all our strength to stay on our legs for the first few hours. 

Still, it was hard not to just let myself bolt ahead.

That was always one of my favourite parts about running with my old man. He was a bigger, heavier wolf than most and while I shared in his size, I had dad's speed and I loved when we raced or he tried to catch me.

But I also loved just running with him, as I did with all my family. 

We all loved our wolves, but Pops was like me when he shifted. He just wanted to get out and enjoy being in our fur, so when we did it together, it was perfect.

Like it was now.

I can't help glancing at him whenever I can, beyond elated to be running with him again, and each time I do, I find him doing the same. His happiness buzzes through our bond each time our eyes meet, like a light that'd just been switched on for the first time in a long time.

It makes wild joy surface inside of me too, and I soon find myself running closer and closer to him until we were practically joined at the hips, only parting to wound around or over something.

By the time we break past pack lands, a floaty calm feeling blankets itself over me, making me feel as if I'd melted into my own skin, my nerves obliterated with my dad at my side.

Just as he was meant to be.

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It's past midday when we find a small glade with a nearby stream to drink from.

When we finish clearing and searching the area for any threats, I all but dive into the stream, lapping up the cold water greedily. Pops flops himself into it, cooling himself down while he simultaneously tries to drink it down in gulps.

I'm out of shape - I confess through our link when I've drunk enough water to feel sick.

Really? I never would've guessed - Pops replies sarcastically.

I ignore him, too tired to do anything but drag myself far enough from the stream to lay down on my side and try to catch my breath. 

Glancing over at me, Pops shakes the water from his fur as he steps out of the stream - and you call me the old one.

I frown up at him as best as I can manage - because you are...

Scratching me with his paw, he continues to shake himself off while I let the shift overcome me. The strain in my muscles mostly disappears, but the fatigue doesn't waver in my second form.

"I could pass out right here," I say as I try to shift enough to catch a spot where there was a beam of sunlight was shining down. The second the warm sun meets my skin, I let out a sigh and close my eyes.

Fucking bliss.

"I'm surprised you didn't on the way here," Pops pokes after shifting as well, his tired eyes betraying him. "To be honest, I'm surprised you could even keep up."

I peek one eye open and show him my favourite finger.

Pops grins, his canines flashing before they poke themselves away, "in truth, it was shocking to see how big your wolf has gotten."

I try not to take childish pride in the alpha wolf I was growing into, but my cheeks wouldn't stop heating so I rubbed my hand over my face, trying to hide it.

"You all are growing so fast," Pops continues, unaware. "Last year, Levi was a tiny thing and now his wolf is half the size of that runt. And now you," his smile turns a little sad, "you're nearing my size."

"I wouldn't say I'm obese," I start and Pops kicks my leg with his foot.

"Very funny," he mocks before he looks around the area, "I'm going to find lunch, you lie there and do what you're good at, nothing."

The second the words leave his lips, fear and regret push his amusement away. I smile up at him, wanting him to know it was okay, that it was okay to laugh with me like this and tease each other like we always used to.

"You do that, and try not to die," I say with a grin that makes his panic waver and his shoulders slump with relief.

He offers me a weak smile and pairs it with a nod before he heads into the woods.

I watch him go with an aching heart, but I only let my smile slip when he's out of earshot.

Pops never use to scare so easily or be so cautious of his words with me, not before that night when-

Who do you think did this to me?

I close my eyes, trying to push the memories away but they came back in full force, reminding me of all I'd cast onto him. Reminding me of his fallen face, the tears he'd shed and that shattered gaze he'd cast onto me after I broke him apart.

"Goddess," I breathe out as I cover my face with my hands, wanting to hide for real now.

There's no need to regret what's already happened, what needed to happen - Theo says gently, his voice just as warm as the sun on my skin. It's happened and we were all hurt but that's why we're here, with him.

To fix it - I hazard. But all I felt was nauseous and exhausted when I tried to figure out where to begin.

To move on - he corrects seriously. Not everything can be fixed or put back in the way it used to be. Not everything is meant to be fixed. 

Then- 

Just talk to him. Find out what he was feeling, tell him what you were feeling then and how you feel now - Theo continues, almost sounding excited - We talk and we work through things, everything, until we're ready to take the first step and every step afterwards, together.

Work through things, that's what we were here to do. That's why we waited so long, until we were both at a place to just talk through everything, together.

So that we could move on, together. So that we could try to figure out a way to mend our relationship and all the parts of each other that we'd broken.

You didn't break him - Theo argues immediately.

The words and Pops' expression from that night argued differently.

You did not break him - Theo insists - he needed to hear those words and you needed to say them.

I wanted to argue, to disagree and insist that he didn't need to hear such harsh words. But I couldn't when I knew it was undeniably true, I needed to let it all out and there was no way of stopping those words from escaping at that moment.

Just talk to him - Theo whispers before he falls back just as Pops breaks from the woods with four fat beavers in hand.

"Lunch!" He announces with a smile so wide and proud, I couldn't help smiling back at him.

I clear my throat, "t-that was fast." 

"Well, not all of us are out of shape," Pops replies with a wink as he comes towards me while looking around, "this might be a good place to stay for now."

"Yeah," I mumble with Theo's words still playing on a loop inside of my head.

Just talk to him

Pops stops to look at me. He tilts his head just a little as his eyebrows draw close and his eyes cloud with worry, "are you okay?"

I stare up at him, mute, wondering what he was seeing on my face now. 

Did he see the fear? The sadness, guilt, regret pain? 

Did he see how much I loved him and how much I just wanted us to be okay?

"Damon?" he asks, that worry growing quickly.

"What..." I start but my voice comes out in a strangled whisper, "what happened?"

He freezes and slowly I watch all the things I feared he could see in me, take root inside of him.

"What happened between us?" I ask with a chest so tight it took effort for the words to come out. "Why did things change?"

The beavers slowly slip from Pops' hands and thump to the floor but his eyes never leave mine. Even as they grow wet, he just stares at me. 

His shoulders slump as the rest of him soon does, like a flower petal wilting over itself when it touched the ground. He lowers himself in the same way, settling on the cool grass a few inches from me with defeat written all over him. 

He stares at his hands instead of me, watching the way they were clenched tightly together while he tried to slow his harsh breaths.

"I don't know," he eventually whispers so quietly I almost missed it. "I don't Damon, but I never meant to hurt you."

He looks up at me then, his gaze passing over every inch of my face as if looking for something new. 

The sad look in his eyes wavers whenever he finds it, and a weak smile pulls at his lips, "I see so much of myself in you."

My body tenses and I blink at him, not knowing how to take the words that would've made me overjoyed a year ago.

They still might've if he hadn't said it as if it was the saddest thing in the world.

"I look at you and I see my passion, my rage, my fierce love that drives me to do anything for this pack, for our family," his weak smile grows a little, "I see Julian's wit too. His bravery, his intelligence and compassion. I see it all in you." 

My heart warms insides my breath and threatens to burst.

"I see it all when I look at you," he says with his voice wavering just a little, "I see us in you Damon and I always have, but for the first time in a long time, I've seen you these last few months."

"Me?" I whisper with a small frown and he nods quickly.

"You feel things deeply, deeper than Julian or me, you blush at the first hint of a compliment or innocent teasing." He lists with glowing eyes, "You're honest, brutally so and you can be kind, so beautifully kind. You wear your heart on your sleeve but only for those you trust to care for it." 

Speechless, I stare at Pops while he keeps smiling at me as if I were living treasure.

"You're all those things and so much more, and before William, I never knew that because... I never saw it," his smile wilts and his expression turns mournful, "none of us saw it because we made you hide it away. After what happened to your father," he takes a shaky breath, "I put so much of myself into you that I snuffed out... you Damon.

"You were such a bright child when you were younger," he says with a sniff, his lips wobbling. "I don't know how much of your childhood you remember, but you were like..." dad looks up, his eyes shining with all his tears waiting to fall. Then he smiles, wistfully and happily, "sunshine," he finishes in a whisper.

"Mischievous and far too smart for you're own good, you always had a response to everything we said, but your soul was gorgeous." He promises, "You used to be the first up every morning, always. And from the moment you figured out how to open all the doors at your height, you'd run in every morning to wake us all up with a hug and a kiss."

He chuckles softly at the memory and the movement sends his tears falling over and he wipes at them absentmindedly, "you reserved special kisses for each person though. Levi got a kiss on his forehead, Peter on his nose, Julian got one to his left cheek and me on my right cheek."

"You were a little monster too, Goddess, you'd take any chance you had to hide all my clothes or stay in one spot all day until I passed so you could hit me at the perfect angle with an arsenal of crumpled balls of paper, or pillows, or rocks if I came home too late and you were upset. Goddess forbid Julian didn't read with you at night, he'd just the full wrecking force of a five-year-old."

Pops laughs again and the tears come faster, but he lets them fall, "you were perfect and I thought you'd changed over the years on your own... I never realised that it was me. I never realised how much of yourself I made you pack away until you came back and I saw the man you were with Will. 

"I saw you laugh with him, protect him and love him with everything inside of you. I saw how you gave yourself so fully to him and how bright you are with him," he chokes a little as he shakes his head, "I saw little boy you used to be."

Pops finally looks back at me and his wistful smile drops instantly.

"Damon," he starts, reaching out for me.

Only then do I notice the tears dripping from my chin. 

I wipe at them, trying to make them stop but they were coming fast and my hands were shaking too much. My heart picks up, racing horribly in my chest and before I could stop it a quiet sob was pushing itself out of me.

"Damon," Pops whispers as he wraps his arms around me.

I try to fight him, try to push myself away telling him that I was fine. But my words were barely tangible, my desperate gasps for air making them useless and my body weak as Pops held me close.

The fights drift out of me with each memory that he'd triggered, every shattered reminder of the past that I'd buried amongst all the anger and pain, trying so hard to be the alpha they wanted me to be, the one I wanted to be.

A perfect mix of both my parents.

"I'm sorry," Pops whispers tearfully, his hands tightening on me as I cried against him, "I'm so sorry Damon, I didn't... I'm sorry."

I didn't remember waking everyone up with special kisses. I didn't remember waiting to attack him when he came home too late, but I remembered Levi's drawing of me. 

I remembered staying up late with dad in his office, I remembered trying to get bunnies to come to the house for Peter, and reading to Hagen and Josey in their cribs when they were born.

I remembered being something other than angry and bloodthirsty. 

I remembered feeling weak sometimes and not drowning in my own anxiety because of it.

Before I tried to be just like dad and then like my old man, I remembered being happy.

I remembered being happy. I remembered being me.

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Breathe

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Raising the cooked meat to my lips, I take a small bite and chew to myself quietly. 

It was getting darker and even though there was still some daylight, the fire between us was mostly illuminating the space around us. It flickered and sparked, the dry leaves and twigs I'd gathered burned nicely beneath the wood Pops had got.

We sat in silence, and even though I kept my eyes down, I could feel his eyes frequently darting over to me. 

Pops' entire body was as stiff as iron bars, it'd been that way since I'd finally pulled away from him and stopped crying. His muscles were wound up tight and his hands were curled so tightly around the stick we'd cooked the meat on that it'd probably snap any second.

I hadn't planned to scare him or make him nervous with his words. But I hadn't planned to break down either.

I sigh as I take another bite.

Theo tries to press forward, tries to talk to me but I push him back gently. I didn't want to talk to him right now, I didn't want to hear him comforting words because they'd just pull me apart again and I was barely hanging on as is.

I wanted Will. I wanted his arms around me, I wanted his gentle kisses and whispered promises to never let me go. I wanted to feel safe and not so...

But I also wanted to say something to Pops. To assure him that he hadn't messed up and make sure he knew that I was fine. I hadn't even realised what was happening before I was crying and that wasn't his fault.

It was just... his words were like everything I'd never known I'd felt inside, and he'd somehow captured them and put them in front of me before I was ready to look at them, or hear them.

They were true, too true, and hearing them pulled at something inside of me. 

"Do you want to go home?" Pops asks into the quiet.

My eyes shoot up to his sad ones and I quickly shake my head, "no," I promise, "I still want to spend the night out here."

Unsure, Pops looks away but manages a stiff nod. I sigh, "I'm serious dad, I want to spend time with you."

"Even when I-" he gestures at me as if that encompassed everything that happened earlier. Sighing himself, he drops his head and shakes it, "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you cry."

"You don't have to say sorry," I tell him while I put down the remainder of my lunch, "this isn't easy. None of this is easy and I didn't think it would be, but I never expected talking to be so fucking hard."

Pops nods at that, a small smile tugging on his lips, "it's a shame because talking is one of the only things I'm good at."

When I grin, Pops lets himself smile properly, wearing his big grin that made everything a little better.

"I've been going to therapy."

My eyes widen and I can't help the shocked expression that makes my mouth fall open.

"Yeah, it still fucks with me when I sit down in that office," Pops shudders with a deepening frown, "your father comes with me. We go once a week and though it's mostly for me, we work through things together."

'We're one' - It was the one thing I'd heard time and time again growing up. 

My parents were a joint pair, a unit, two pieces of a tightly intertwined whole. There wasn't a thing one of them did without the other by their side.

"When did you start?" I hear myself asking but Pops doesn't flinch away or retreat, he just leans back on his arms.

"After you spoke to Levi," he says carefully, "we wanted to make things right, all of us, but we didn't realise that trying so hard to fix everything was just hurting you more. It took Will telling us for us to wake up and realise that we all had things to work on."

I remembered that day Will had so nervously told me the conversation he'd had with my parents while I'd been asleep. He'd been so scared that I'd be upset or that he'd crossed a line with him when all I'd been was grateful. 

Inexplicably grateful that he'd stuck up for me and said what I couldn't find the strength to do myself.

"How has it been?" 

"It's horrible," Pops deadpans and I snort. He grins, his eyes bright, "I hate talking about... everything."

"I thought it was the one thing you were good at."

That gets me a handful of pebbles thrown at me but it's worth it with the way we both laugh into the setting evening air, massive grins on both our faces.

"It started easy, basic questions and all that, but then next thing I know they want me to talk about my childhood and why I don't speak to your grandparents anymore," Pops' lips turn down as he shakes his head as if to repel the idea, "I would've stopped if it weren't for your father."

"Dad's making you do it?" I hazard but Pops quickly shakes his head.

"He's helping me through it," he corrects before he glances at me, his gaze turning a little nervous, "I was the one who asked to start." 

That makes my eyes widen again and Pops nods silently, already knowing what I was thinking.

"Jewels has been trying to get me to consider therapy for years and I never wanted it, never thought I needed it until," he looks away, shame trickling into our bond, "until all that happened with Levi and then you. I couldn't deny that I needed help any longer."

I don't say anything to that, not knowing how to take the fact that my father was admitting that he needed help.

It was a good thing, I knew that. But while everyone had always thought that he was too violent, that we were too violent, and that we needed help, I'd never seen it that way. 

Not until I met Will and saw the fear in his eyes when I told him I'd killed before.

I'd always taken pleasure in hurting others, it'd become a way I'd coped with everything, but with Will, that had slowly eased itself away into a small thing I could control when I had him by my side.

But if Pops needed help, then what did that say about me?

"Has it been helping?" I ask before I try rewording it, "I mean, I know you said it's horrible, but... are you happy that you're going?"

Pops nods and manages a small smile, "I wish I started earlier," he admits, "you'd think by now that I'd know that your father is always right, but nah, I've got to be a stubborn ass."

He sends me a wink and I smile before I tug on my own truth to offer something to him, "Will used to want to be a therapist, before what happened to him, and I... I talk to him."

"That's good! What do you talk about?" Pops asks before quickly adding, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay," I promise him before I rub my suddenly clammy hands against my thighs, "we talk about all sorts of things, basically everything. Will knows everything; the good, the bad and the horrific, and for some reason, he loves me still, so I tell him everything."

I glance up at him and he nods encouragingly, "I've got a journal too. He told me to try it and helped me start, but when I just need to get things out, I write in it. It's hard sometimes but Will helps me, he always helps me."

"That's really good Damon," Pops whispers, his black eyes full of love, "I'm happy you have him."

"Me too," I admit as I release a rushed breath, "he's the kindest person I've ever met. He wants to help people, in the pack especially, he's just itching to get out more. He really does care about others, more than he probably should. And h-he's funny and beautiful and his smiles make me feel like I might die, but in a good way. In the best way. He means the world to me. He's... he's-" I take in a deep breath, "he's my happiness."

I try to catch my breath and settle myself from feeling unbelievably giddy just thinking about Will, but when my old man looked at me with such warm eyes and joy, I knew every bit of my glee was on display.

There was no stopping the blush that came crashing in.

"What do you guys talk about?" I exclaim, trying my best to escape my own embarrassment, "you, dad and the therapist. W-What do you guys talk about?

Pops has the decency to look away and spare me from his usual taunts, even though he was smiling happily to himself while I tried my best to pull myself back together.

"We move through different topics," Pops replies, his smile still there, "last week it was Jayson, the week before that Julian. But right now, it's all about what it was like being teenage parents."

My blush and lingering embarrassment fade away at that as I frown, looking at dad with all the confusion in the world. Out of all the topics I anticipated, that hadn't even been on the list.

"What was it like?" I ask carefully, half afraid to hear the answer I suddenly needed to know.

Pops eyes me for a long time before he lets all the air in his lungs out like a deflated balloon, "it wasn't easy," he admits before he rubs a hand over his face, "before we even had you guys, there was so much pressure to have a family.

"Your father and I were the first male mates in the limelight and everything fell onto us," he says with another long sigh. "But it wasn't just that. The packs had just merged and everyone expected us to be stronger for it. And we were but, Goddess... so much was going on at that time, and Jewels and I were only just learning how to be mates.

"It's not as if anyone even knew that we could have children ourselves, but still..." he chuckles as if remembering some forlorn memory, "there was so much pressure to have kids. Even before anyone knew that we could, they wanted pups, immediately."

"That's how things were?"

In most packs, it was an alpha was to have kids as quickly as possible to carry on the line in case anything should happen to them. That was just the way of most packs but now ours, not the pack I grew up in at least - I'd never had that pressure put onto me.

One of the things both my dads made unmistakably clear to me was that I didn't have to have children until I was ready to. The burden didn't fall onto me, and I did not have to become a father at eighteen.

I knew it was different for them, but I just always assumed that they didn't want me to feel the pressure other young alphas had, I'd never considered that they'd possibly felt that same pressure themselves.

I couldn't imagine having to think about having kids with Will now. We were mated and happy, but we still had a long way to go.  We weren't ready for that, any of that.

I look at my dad again and for the first time since we started talking, I see the tired look in his eyes.

Pops looked tired. He looked so tired.

Bags that weren't there before were now dragging his eyes down and his defeated posture made Theo whine with the desperate need to comfort and love. 

"That's how things were," he repeats solemnly, "and while I will never regret having you or your siblings in my life," Pops' shoulder roll gently as he shakes his head, "we just weren't ready to have kids. I wasn't ready to be a parent."

It didn't shock me to hear the words, it didn't hurt me or make me upset or anything. It was just the truth, Pops' truth and he was sharing it with me.

"Your father and I don't regret it. Not for a second, we could never regret having any of you, we love all of you way too much," he reiterates quickly, almost desperately.

"It's okay dad, I know you love us," I assure him with a small smile, "I know you love us all."

Pops relaxes his shoulders and nods, "more than you can possibly imagine. I love each of you with everything inside of me. I would never want to live in a world without each of you in it."

"But you just weren't ready to have us," I say and he nods his head, his expression twisted with shame.

"When we had you, Damon, we were eighteen," he chuckles sadly as if the fact hurt him to remember, "we hadn't even been mates for a full year. Jewels and I had things between us that we should've fixed in a bond that was still so fresh. Not to mention, we were new alphas with no clue about how crazy the world actually was."

I peek up at him, catching the stress lines forming his frown, "most wolves have kids young."

"Most wolves aren't as fucked up as I am," he replies, the words carrying all of his misery, "I should've been in a better frame of mine. I shouldn't have had kids the way I was, the way I still am sometimes."

Neither of us says a thing for a few long minutes as his words settle between us and the dimming fire crackles.

Turning to face me a little better, Pops' black eyes focus themselves solely on me, "I said it before, but Damon, you're a lot like me."

I flinch a little, "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"It's not," he promises, "I love the pieces of me I see in you, I just wish-"

"They weren't all there?" I fill in with a raised brow and he nods.

He didn't have to say it and neither did I, we both knew we were talking about the violence, the rage, the bloodlust that carved itself into my bones over the years.

It wasn't pleasant, there was no denying that.

"I didn't see how much of me was in you until I started this therapy and realised that we were so fucking similar."

"Like how?" Even as I said the words, I already knew the answer. 

"When I was your age, I didn't think there was a thing wrong with me," he admits for us both, "but I was violent with little cause, I was cruel, proud and unruly. Nobody ever told me it was wrong, no one in my pack thought any of it was wrong. 

"The only person who disagreed," his sad eyes pull up at the corners as a small smile stretches his lips, "the only person who told me to my face that I was all those things... was your father."

As Pops gaze fills with all the love he harboured in abundance for dad, I remember the stern face Will wore whenever I said something cruel or he tried to draw me away from the tv when someone was killed.

"It was only your father and even though he tried to help, I never listened," Pops continues as he runs his hand over his mouth, "I never wanted to work through any of the shit I went through back then because I always thought I was fine. I was a werewolf, we were violent by nature and yeah, I was a little worse than everyone else, but I was an alpha. That made things different, right?"

I stare at him, almost afraid to hear the spill of words that were so similar to my own thoughts before I'd found Will.

Pops smiles a little as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, "That's what I told myself for years. I told myself through it all that that's just how I was built and there wasn't a thing wrong with it.  Through every murder, unprovoked attack and all the rage, I gave myself so many reasons to justify what I did."

I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

"I told you, we're a lot alike."

Suddenly, I understood why he said the words so sadly, like if he'd never wish another person to be like him. They didn't just sound painful, they actually were. I understood it because I knew the agony I went through when I was on my own, how the rage would take over me, how comforting violence could be when I was hurt and didn't want to face it.

I understood his sadness because I'd never want another person to be like that side of me either.

"My mistake was that I went headfirst into starting a family and I never tried to work through things as you are," Pops says regretfully, "I told myself I was fine and I justified all that was wrong with me for years. But all I did was make excuses to raise you with all the problems I should've worked out first."

He looks up at me, his gaze full of guilt, "You in particular because I knew you'd be alpha one day and I wanted you to be strong. I wanted you to be stronger than me, than your father, than any alpha in the world. I wanted you... to be the strongest."

It's my turn to stare at him now as he avoids my haze and tries to hide from me, his shame palpable and painful. Hunched forward, his shoulders slumped in defeat as his chest rose and fell through baited breaths.

Pops had a hard life. An unfair, cruel life where he'd been hurt early and then been forced to watch everyone he loved get hurt as he grew older.

His best friend. His mate. His pack. 

I knew how much it burned him and I knew that's why he drove me so hard to be better, to be stronger. Sometimes it had been hard, but I'd wanted it just as bad as him then.

I didn't want to watch Amelia get hurt one day as Uncle Emitt had been. I'd never wanted to regret being too weak if something happened to Peter or Levi or the twins, and I sure as shit never wanted to risk my mate being unprotected.

I understood, even as a kid, I knew that Pops just wanted me to be able to save the ones I loved.

We'd just... I didn't even know what had happened.

One day, things were different and violence, strength, power, none of that was the answer anymore and I didn't know how to cope with the one thing that had been bred into me.

"I just wanted you to be able to fight back," he whispers quietly, "I wanted you to be able to face any threat you encountered and come out unscathed. I never wanted you to live with the pain or the memories of failing," he shivers but not from the passing breeze, "because it never goes away, Damon. It just never does."

I feel myself nod because it was the only thing I could do.

Saying anything now felt wrong, cruel almost, and I didn't even know what to say even if I could get my mouth to work. I knew these things about my dad, in parts, I'd just never known that they weighed him down as much as they did.

Pops often joked about everything, rarely was he so serious, or so sad.

"It wasn't until all that happened with Levi and Jayson that I realised how much I'd failed you,"

"You didn't," I argue but he shakes his head.

"I did," 

"Dad, I am strong," I promise him almost desperately. "I can protect us, all of us, you didn't fail me."

"I did, because you shouldn't have to protect all of us, not on your own and I should've never put all of that on you from so young," he says sternly, the steel in his eyes refusing to budge as he looked at me, "I should never have started so early with you Damon, you were too young and I should've never encouraged you to love and depend on violence so much."

Pops didn't let his eyes leave mine, silently daring me to argue or go against him in this.

When I don't say anything, he softens his gaze and relaxes a little, "I never planned to start training you so young. I was going to wait a couple of years, Julian convinced me that what was best for you was for you to enjoy your younger years and he was right. Of course, he was right, so that was a plan."

"What changed?"

"I almost lost him," he croaks on a near sob that makes my heart shatter within my chest as the memories come pouring in.

Four months. We spent four months without him.

Four months in broken pieces of what our family should be while dad laid in a hospital bed, growing thinner each day.

There were parts of my childhood I remembered in bits and pieces, but those four months I remembered clearly. There wasn't a day of it I could ever forget.

"We were doing okay before then," he says sounding so fragile that all I wanted to do was go hold him but I didn't think I'd make it a step. "Julian was making adjustments to the pack, helping me - in his own way - and I think... we were doing better. But after that day... all I saw was red all the time. I wanted revenge," he raises his eyes, "and I put that on you."

I remembered the hours we spent training after dad woke up, all the rage and pain that fueled us both.

I remembered how happy I used to get when Pops would come for me, ready to take me to the armoury while everyone else couldn't enter at my age.

I remembered working at hard as I could, day in and day out, because I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to protect our family and be the alpha he always said I would be.

I wanted so badly to the man he saw in me.

"That was my first mistake," he says as he looks straight at me, not hiding his pain or regret, "embedding my own anger inside of you, that was my first mistake and I am so sorry Damon."

I nod, my lips feeling dry as I grip the end of my pants as tightly as I can.

"I'm sorry son," he repeats desperately, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay dad," I manage as I try to smile but it wobbles, "I-I understand."

"I'm sorry," he croaks.

"Dad, it's okay, I forgive you," I promise him, "I know you were just trying your best."

He looks at me for a long time, searching for any hidden doubt or anger in my words before he nods and swallows. Wiping his eyes before his tears can fall he sniffs and tries to clear his throat.

"That was my first mistake," he continues when he's gathered himself again, "but my second was turning against you after everything."

I feel my eyes fill but I stifle the emotions as best as I can. 

I didn't want to remember that pain now, I didn't want to talk about it, but I knew we had to.

"When Jayson joined the family, it made me realise how many things we had to change. Not just in our family, but in the pack as well," Pops admits quietly, "I always thought it would be hardest for me because of the shit in my veins, but I never considered how hard it would be for you too.

"In my head, Levi and I were the only ones who had no control over that sort of rage, and we'd always worked to help Levi cope with that. But with you, I didn't realise that I'd nurtured that same rage inside of you, so when you kept hurting others when we were all trying to stop, I-"

"You thought I was doing it on purpose, that I wasn't trying," I fill in with a bleeding heart. "It's not something I can just turn off."

"I know, I know that now," Pops hurries to say, "I understand that it's different for you too, and that's my fault."

"It's both of our faults," I say quietly which makes his eyes widen, "you say I was a sweet kid, and maybe I was. But I always leaned towards the darker shit."

"That's not true," he tries but I only laugh. "Damon."

"I liked it," I admit honestly, "all the fighting, chasing after rogues, training with others and showing them how much stronger I was. I enjoyed all our hunts and I think I still would, in some ways," I shrug feeling slightly helpless, "I never fought you on it because I liked it."

"But if we hadn-"

"Dad," I say cutting him off. I take a deep breath and shake my head, "if you did the same shit with Peter, all that special training, he would never have gotten as bad as I did. Omega or not. Or even with Josey and Hagen, they like fighting and rogue hunting too, but they've never been so... hungry for it as me."

I offer him a weak smile, "it's okay to admit it. It wasn't just you or dad, it was me too. You started me off wrong maybe, but even old as I am, it took me losing everything to realise that I had a problem that went beyond our family."

Pops stares at me as if I were a ghost, disbelief and shock shining in his eyes as he just blinks at me. 

He must not have expected me to admit that, to even try and take some of the blame, and I mean that was expected. When I'd left home, I'd blamed it all on my parents when that wasn't fair.

But I was learning, trying, as they were and in the end, our family was one fucked up web of pain and we were just trying to deal with it as best as we could.

"Theo says we can't fix things," I say with a true smile as my chest warms from his presence, "not in a bad way, just that some things aren't meant to be fixed. Maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong.
All I know is that I love you and I never want to go back to feeling so alone all the time. I don't want to be disconnected from you guys or the pack. I..." 

I pause trying to find the right words, "I just want to be happy." I nod a little to myself, "I want to wake up every day with Will and be happy that he's there. I want to be able to hang out with my family and laugh and talk and cry and fight. I want to do that with my pack, to be open with them. I just want to be happy, dad."

"I want that too," Pops promises earnestly and my smiles grows wider.

"I want you to be happy too," he looks away, his gaze turning hesitant again, "I don't want you to be so scared of what you say around me. I want you to be yourself. To call me a shitbag and mean it, to hit me on the head when I'm rude and hug me when I'm sad. I want you to be happy."

"I..." he never finishes, only closes his mouth and shakes his head.

"I know all that's happened has been hard on you, these last few years especially. But I also know that you're trying."

When he still doesn't look at me, I get to my feet and set myself down next to him. I take his hands in mine and grip his shaking fingers as tightly as I can.

"Dad, look at me," I beg, "please."

Slowly and with much effort, Pops raises his black eyes to mine, trying his hardest to hold my gaze with all the overwhelming regret that rested in them. 

I smile at him, "I don't blame you. I get it now, and I do not blame you."

Misery plagues his gaze, casting his features down and the words play themselves in my head again.

"I didn't mean that," I say shaking my head fervently, "I was hurt a-and upset and... hurt dad. I was really hurt and I..." I shake my head again, trying to make them disappear, "I didn't mean to put it all on you."

Before he could look away again, I let go of his hands and hug him tightly, "I don't blame you, Dad. I promise, I don't."

I wait for him to hug me back, praying to Goddess that he does, that he takes the leap.

"Dad," I whisper in a neat whine.

Hesitantly, his arms come around me and when I don't flinch, he tightens them around me and squeezes, "I never wanted to hurt you the way I did."

"I know dad. I get it now," I promise like a broken record I hoped he'd memorize, "It's okay."

Not letting me go for the world, dad lets his tears fall and I don't hold mine back.

"I'm so sorry Damon," he whispers against my shoulder, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay Dad," I say shakily, "So we messed up. We're Calderons, it's what we do."

Pops chuckles through his sobs and I grin against him, "speak for yourself," he manages hoarsely, "I'm a Heil."

I push away from him, happy to see him relax a little, "they're all hyphenated," he only shakes with laughter.

"Denial isn't good child," he pokes before he lets his eyes really meet mine, not forced or barely holding on, "I love you, Damon." He pledges with a soft smile, that wistful look from earlier returning in full force. "Always have and always will. From the moment I held you, I've loved you and that will never change. No matter what happens, no matter what changes, my love for you will never fade."

My smile wobbles again and I give him a nudge, trying to stop the tears from falling, "I..." I press my lips together and nod, "I love you too Dad."

Leaning forward, he brings my head down and presses a kiss to my forehead. 

I close my eyes, letting the warmth spread through me as that familiar, protective scent of pine envelops me completely.

Home. Safety. Love. 

My heart bleeds in my chest, overwhelmed and incapable of coping with the warm emotions drowning out all the pain, regret and mistakes.

We were doing this together. 

Taking that first step.
Moving on.

When we part, no words are needed as we shift and take our wolves' forms instead. 

Pops immediately rubs himself against me, scent-marking me with the protective, overbearing touch he used to give me as I pup.

I let him lick at my ears, nibbling against my skin,  all the while beaming from ear to ear at the affection cast onto me. 

We take off into the night soon after with a bond so bright it shone like fireworks in the night sky, buzzing loudly between us with all the peace and happiness we'd found in one another again.

Dad 

Yeah 

I love you

I love you too Damon. Always have, always will.

----------------------

The way I'm crying right now is ridiculous.

Thoughts????????

As I said, writing this chapter was a real struggle for me. I knew what I wanted in it, but I wanted it to flow properly like a real conversation, and I really hope I did it well cause this is the 4th version loool.

I don't think everything can be solved in one conversation, but they've been slowly healing on the sidelines apart from one another, and like Theo said, this is the first step and I just really love this chapter.

The next chapter is going to surprise yall, I can't lie. I'm not going to give a hint but I doubt any of yall can guess what's going to happen.

If you enjoyed this update, please please PLEASE vote and comment. I put a lot into this and the feedback is always appreciated.

Again, I'm really sorry for the long wait. I know it's a real bitch to wait for updates, but university and life. Thanks to those of you who were understanding, supportive and just sweet about the whole thing.

I'll be doing a Patreon extra next and then more Delicate since we're nearing the finish line - SOBS. But I want the book to finish nicely and tie up all loose ends so I'm not rushing it.

Until next time,

Byeeeeeeeeeeeeee Humansssssssssssssssssssssss