"What is going on, Rebecca?" Carter repeated, his voice rising. "And what is this boy doing here?"

No one answered Carter.

Irene bent down and scooped the photos up off the floor. A shocked look crossed her face as she flipped through each photo, staring at each of the girls' faces. Like mother like daughter, tears immediately started dripping down her cheeks.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Give me these." Carter snatched the photos out of Irene's hands and quickly started sifting through them. "What..."

His mouth twisted into a harsh line as he examined the photos and then quickly thrust them back at me.

"What's this about?" he demanded, glaring back and forth between Rebecca and I.

"I think you can figure that one out, Dad," Rebecca retorted causticly. "Those girls look a little familiar, don't they?"

"Rebecca," Carter said warningly. "You don't know what you're - "

"But you knew, didn't you? You knew this whole time that Chris had three daughters."

Carter and Irene exchanged nervous looks.

I fought back a disgusted sigh.

They were in on this. They'd known the entire time that my mom had been pregnant, and they'd purposely kept it from Rebecca.

And I thought my family had problems?

"Rebecca, you have to understand..." Irene began, her voice trembling. "The entire situation was - "

"Was what, exactly?" Rebecca demanded.

I was worried that steam was going to start coming out of Rebecca's ears from how red her face was turning and just how pissed off she was. I couldn't blame her for it, but I didn't want to be caught in the cross fire either.

Carter stared back and forth between Rebecca and I before he shook his head in disgust. "We don't have to explain anything to you, Rebecca, and certainly not this boy. You were a child when it happened, and - "

"Okay, Dad?" Rebecca was pacing now, visibly trying to keep herself calm and from throwing something at her parents. "I was eighteen when Chris was killed. And I'm almost thirty-three. Do you still see me as a little girl, or what? I think I deserve to know why my parents kept the fact that I have three nieces out there that I know nothing about!"

Even I flinched as Rebecca threw those words at Carter. I'd done my fair share of shouting before, but nothing to that extent.

"Rebecca, please calm down," Irene said weakly, reaching forward to grab Rebecca's arm. "We just - "

"No! No, I will not calm down!" Rebecca shrieked, yanking her arm out of her mother's grasp. "The last thing you should be doing right now is telling me to do anything! I can't believe you!"

Carter then threw caution to the wind and rounded on me, looking angry enough for more than one person.

"You see what you did? You see what gigantic mess you started in this family?" he said, his voice menacing. "What are you doing here, anyway? Did you just decide to come down here and mess with my wife and daughter because you thought it would be fun?"

A deadly silence fell.

I was not shocked by Carter's words. I was not offended. I was angry.

He had the audacity to yell at me for messing everything up when he had been the one to sever all ties with his granddaughters for their entire life?

Didn't something about that entire scenario seem off?

"Well?" Carter insisted when I remained silent. "I'm waiting."

"Dad," Rebecca snapped. "Don't talk to Archer like that, he's - "

"It's fine, Rebecca," I managed to say calmly through the rage that was currently building up inside me. "If he wants an answer, I'll give it to him."

I took a step forward closer to Carter, thankful for once for my height. I had a few inches on him, tall enough to have him tilt his head to look me in the eye. Unfortunately, the proximity also made me want to reach out and strangle him.

"I'm here because I couldn't give my little sisters straight answers when they started asking questions about the father they knew nothing about. I'm here because after fifteen years my mother deserves closure from the family that completely cut her out after the death of the man she was in love with. Now, judging from the disgusted expression on your face, you don't think that's appropriate. You think we're scum, it's obvious. You couldn't give a damn about me and that's fine. Cool. I could honestly care less. But my mother and my little sisters? They deserve better from you. If you had to watch my mother relive what happened every day, or my little sisters getting picked on because they didn't have a father, then you wouldn't be standing there, asking these questions."

I was filled with nothing but satisfaction after I finished that long speach. I hadn't realized just how much I had wanted to say those words, to really call out Irene and Carter for what they'd done.

I may have been eleven when Chris died, but I wasn't stupid. I saw everything that had happened, probably to make up for the weeks that I hadn't spoken. I just hadn't put two and two together until now.

Carter Morales looked as if he were about to strangle me. His hands were clenched into trembling fists and a bright red flush filled his cheeks, his eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare directed towards me. Irene clutched at his forearm, a frantic expression taking over her face.

"Carter," she muttered. "Calm down. You - "

"You've sure got a lot of nerve." Carter stepped forward until we were almost nose-to-nose. "What makes you think you can come into my house and speak like that?"

"Because I, unlike you, actually care about my family."

I was stepping way out of bounds, I knew that. But not even that would keep me from saying what was truly on my mind.

In that moment I could have sworn that Carter was about to swing out a fist and punch me in the face. Instead, he took a step back, letting out a huff of air, almost deflating.

The tension in the room had not disappeared. I didn't think it would ever disappear. But for now, the threat of death blows had abated.

"I think," Irene began with a shaky breath. She held the photos of the girls tightly to her chest. "I t hink there's a lot we need to talk about."

Rebecca glanced over at me at the same moment I turned to look at her. The question on her face was obvious: should I let them speak?

I wanted answers just as much as she did, if not more. I nodded.

Irene stepped through the tiny entrance hall and down into the living room decorated with bright, spring colors, pinks and greens, along with brown leather couches and recliners. She sat in the recliner beside the marble fire place, visibly shaking.

"Have a seat," she said, pointing to the couches. "Please."

Rebecca sank down onto the couch, twisting the strap of her purse between her hands. I remained standing, beside the fireplace, too antsy to even try to sit.

I was too damn anxious to hear what Irene could possibly have to say as an explanation for what had happened.

"Carter?"

Chris's father remained standing in the entrance hall, staring at us with a blank expression on his face. He made no attempt to move for several beats of silence. When Irene called his name again, he turned on his heel and marched up the stairs. A second later, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed throughout the house.

Irene sucked in a breath, leaning her head back against the recliner cushions, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Mom?" Rebecca said nervously. "You okay?"

She nodded quickly, wiping at the tears that were starting to streak down her cheeks again.

"I'm fine. Just...fine."

"Mrs. Morales..." I took a deep breath, unsure of whether I should be speaking or not after what I had just practically shouted at Carter. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - "

Irene's eyes flashed open and she glared at me, anger clearly written on her face. "Don't you apologize for what you feel, Archer. I should have realized a long time ago that this conversation would end up happening some time or later. You just happened to bring it around sooner than expected."

Sooner than expected? Chris had died fifteen years ago. When was she planning on telling us the truth, when we were in our seventies?

But at least Irene had the smarts to realize I was not sincere in my apology whatsoever.

"You know, that's what I'm having so much trouble understanding," Rebecca said, her voice trembling. "Why would you keep something like this from us? From me? Chris was my brother and I loved him. I wanted him to be happy, and you can't lie and say that he wasn't happy with Regina. She was his whole world. Why would you try and hide the fact that she gave him three beautiful daughters?"

"Rebecca, I know that." Irene sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "I know you two were very close. But, Chris was my son, and I...I wasn't so willing to part with him."

I crossed my arms, digging my teeth into my lower lip to keep from joining in on the conversation. It was clear I'd already become the third wheel - better to be a fly on the wall while Irene spoke to Rebecca, then ask questions.

"Mom. Chris was twenty-nine when he met Regina." Rebecca snorted out a laugh. "He was a big boy. He could take care of himself."

"Of course your brother could take care of himself," Irene scoffed. "He was more than capable of doing anything if he put his mind to it. And I was happy for him when he met Regina, but..."

Irene's eyes flickered over to me. I stood up straighter, on pins and needles for her to continue speaking.

"But what?" Rebecca demanded.

Irene quickly looked away from me, back to Rebecca. "Regina just came with so much...so much baggage."

My mother had baggage? I was her baggage?

I inhaled deeply through my nose and out through my mouth in attempts to keep my temper from rising to an insane amount, more than it already had, and it wasn't working very well.

Who was Irene to judge my mother when she didn't even know a damn thing about her?

"Baggage," Rebecca repeated flatly. "Regina came with baggage. Mom, I would hardly call her son baggage. Or is that what children are referred to now-a-days? Am I your baggage? Was Chris your baggage, too? Is that what we were to you?"

"No, of course not," Irene snapped. "Don't be ridiculous. You musn't take that the wrong way, Archer." Now she was speaking to me. "You were a very nice young boy when we met you. It's the...the..."

A flush was filling her face, her eyes were watering with tears again, and I was slightly concerned for a moment that she was going to spontaneously combust.

Rebecca shot me a frantic look, then turned her gaze back to her mother. "Mom?"

But Irene seemed to be past the point of being able to speak. The photos of the girls slipped form her grasp and hit the floor. She tucked her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, and then she was rocking back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably into her knees.

Rebecca quickly stood and walked around the coffee table to crouch down beside her mother, reaching out an arm to wrap around her. She rested her head against Irene's shoulder and stroked her hand, waiting for her to stop crying.

I had no desire to comfort Irene at all. I would probably never have any feelings but contempt for the woman. Yet I did have to comend Rebecca for her efforts; despite how furious she was at her mother, she was still comforting her.

By the time Irene finally did stop crying, the knees of her jeans were soaked and her tears still probably could have filled several buckets.

"Mom?" Rebecca snatched a tissue from the box off the coffee table and handed it to Irene. "What did you mean, if you weren't talking about Archer?"

Irene blew her nose for one long moment and then dabbed at her eyes with the fresh tissue Rebecca handed her.

"It was..." Her voice cracked, shook with emotion. "It was that damn ex-husband of hers. If it weren't for that despicable excuse for a human being...Chris...Chris would still be here."

I should have expected Irene to say something like that. Of course I should have expected her to say something like that. I never had been good at reading social situations like others had a nack for. It made sense.

Irene and Carter hated Regina and despised me because if their son had never met my mother, then St. Pierre would have never had a reason to kill Chris.

That explanation I could regrettably handle.

But what about the girls? It made no sense for Irene to shun her three granddaughters - the daughters of her son, Chris - for fifteen years.

"That wasn't Regina's fault, Mom," Rebecca said sharply, and I was surprised that after what her mother had said she was still sticking up for mine. "Chris was in the Army, he could have been killed when he was deployed, or - "

"But he wasn't!" Irene wailed. "He wasn't killed when he was in the Army! He got killed because of that boy's father! He would still be here if he had never met Regina! If he had never gone into that damn coffee shop that day, he would still be here! My baby would...would still be here...My baby boy..."

It took Irene ten minutes to stop sobbing into tissue after tissue.

I may have been an insensitive asshole, but I was perfectly aware of how hard this was on her, to be talking about her dead son. It would be hard on anybody.

My patience wasn't quite as understanding.

I was trembling all over from fighting back the urge to chuck something through the window or smash something. I was proud of myself for having kept my cool for this long, but I sincerely doubted it would hold up for much longer.

"All right. So you hate my mother, and by proxy, me. That's fine." I strode over to the recliner and crouched down in front of Irene, forcing her to look me directly in the eye. "But what about my sisters? You are their grandmother, for fuck's sake. They never got the chance to know Chris because he died before they were born, but don't you think they'd want to know their grandmother? Their father's mother?"

Irene rubbed at her eyes with another tissue, her mouth still trembling.

"I know. I know, Archer. Believe me, not a day goes by where I don't think about those girls."

My hand came down on the glass coffee table in a fist before I could stop myself, causing both Irene and Rebecca to jump.

"Then why? Why would you put them, and yourself, through something like this? Don't you think that's just the slightest bit selfish of you?"

"It is selfish of me," Irene agreed, looking anywhere but at me. "I know. But I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"Why?" Rebecca and I both demanded at the same time.

"It was just too painful!" Irene exclaimed. "I couldn't stand looking at those girls, knowing they were the spitting image of Chris, and not having him here with me! I just couldn't...couldn't stand looking into their eyes and seeing my son. I just couldn't."

Rebecca sat back on the floor and ran her fingers through heir hair, her face drawn in a scowl as she took in what Irene had said.

I'd already heard enough. I didn't know if I could even handle hearing anything more.

Every person had to deal with struggles in their lives, things they couldn't bear just by themselves. We, of all people, should know that.

But not once in fifteen years had Irene Morales gotten the courage to pick up the phone and meet her granddaughters? Fifteen years?

I knew I wasn't one to be talking, particularly with not letting things go, but I didn't have a choice anymore. I had to get over everything that bothered me because my life was on the line, and so was my wife's and our kid's.

Yet Irene chose not to?

I found it very hard to believe anybody wouldn't want to get to know April, May and June. They were so sweet, so innocent, so trusting and full of life. How could their own grandmother not strike at the chance to get to watch them grow up?

"Okay," Rebecca said, nodding, looking up at Irene. "Okay. I'll buy it. But I still deserved to know about those girls. I'm never going to forgive you for keeping that from me. And you - " She turned her narrowed eyes on me suddenly, "Your mother could have told me she was pregnant."

I inclined my head in agreement. "She could have. You're right. But I'm not the person you should be talking to about that."

"Good. Fine. Okay. At least we're on the same page now." Rebecca looked back up at Irene, who was watching the two of us anxiously with blood shot eyes. "But what about Dad?"

Irene pressed her lips together in a thin line, holding back a sigh.

"Your father...I can't answer for him. He's made his own choices. When, or if, he's willing to talk about this, he'll speak for himself."

I rocked back on my heels and stood, turning away from Rebecca and Irene.

The emotions flooding through me were too twisted for me to be able to distinguish, and I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be feeling.

Satisfaction at finally knowing, at least partially, what had happened with Chris's absentee parents. Relief, because I had conquered what I had set out to do. Joy, maybe, because April, May and June would now no doubt have a new aunt to rely on.

This was good, fantastic, that some kind of progress had been made after so long.

But that still didn't make up for the lost years, what the girls would never be able to have with their grandparents.

I could hope now that things would be different, that maybe Irene would find it in herself to contact the girls and they would be able to start building the relationship they needed to have, and maybe one day Carter would be able to do the same.

Was that hope enough, though?

If it wasn't...I wouldn't be able to handle it. That I knew for a fact.

So many things were fastly approaching on the horizon that rested on my actions alone, and if the hope that I would succeed wasn't enough, what was, then?

Only a second had passed before I immediately knew the answer to my question.

My family. They mattered more than anything. They were enough.

Hadley. She was one thing I held most dear. She was definitely enough.

Our baby. That little thing deserved to live, to fight for itself, and what kind of father would I be if I didn't do everything I could to make sure they got that chance?

No.

Rebecca I knew would up and follow me back to the city that second to meet the girls, but Carter and Irene? I was going to do everything I could to make sure they met the girls, whether they liked it or not.

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And here it is! The long awaited update to Face Your Fears! Thank you guys so much for being so patient - it was almost as painful for me dealing with dumb writer's block as it was for you guys waiting. You guys are so amazing that you put up with my silliness for this long, so kudos to you. I hope this chapter was worth it, because it sure was difficult for me to write. So don't hesitate to leave a comment with your thoughts! Votes are always appreciated, too. :)