“What do you mean you broke up with Henry?” Dad shouts at me from the other end. “I just saw you guys a few hours ago. Everything was perfect.”

“I know,” I’m quick to agree. “It’s a long story, but I need a favor and I need it quickly.”

I hear him sigh and then, “Blain, it’s five o’clock in the morning.”

“Dad,” I know my voice is strained at this point, but I need to get my point across. “I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important. Please,” I try, “please, just help me.”

“Everything will be okay, son,” Pops speaks up. “Tell us what you need, of course we’ll help.”

I must be on speakerphone. Good. I need them both.

Sighing out of relief, I turn my attention to a spot on the wall and speak as assertively as I can, “The story is too long to tell you right now, but I had to send Henry away. Normally, he wouldn’t have anywhere to go, so I sent him to the vacation house. He left about ten minutes ago, but it should take him at least forty-five to get there. Dad, I need you to beat him there.”

“Why do you need me there?”

“I need you to tell Henry that I love him and that I need him to be safe. Tell him,” I can feel the tears start to collect in my eyes again and a lump form in my throat, “tell him that it’s only temporary. As soon as this is all over, he’s coming back here with me. Make sure he knows it’s not his fault and that I love him. Make sure. And,” sighing seems like it’s coming natural now, more often that it should, “tell him he can’t contact me. I’ll get a hold of him somehow, but he cannot call me or text me or email me. Nothing. Dad, you’re the one more compassionate one. You have to tell him everything will be okay,” I stay quiet a second, but can’t deal with too much silence, “He has to know I love him.”

“I’m sure he does,” Dad sounds more sympathetic now. “I’ll go tell him though just in case. Let me go take a shower and I’ll head right over.”

“No, Dad,” I sit up a little straighter, “you have to go now. You have to be there before he gets there.”

“That sounds urgent,” Pops’ voice has a warning edge to it. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t have time, Pops,” Trying not to get aggravated with the same question is hard. Instead, I just take a deep breath, “Do you trust me?”

“What?” It’s Dad that answers.

“Do you trust me? With everything you know about me and the decisions I’ve made. With everything I’ve been through and came out of. Do you trust me?”

“Of course we do,” Pops fills in. I can hear rustling happening from their side, “Your father will get dressed and head there now. What do you need from me?”

A slight smile passes over my face for a second before I’m somber again, “I need you to come here and be my father. I need a shoulder to cry on. You’re the best at listening.”

“Hey,” Dad interrupts, “I’m a great listener. I’m one of the best listeners. I’m a listening pro.”

I hear Pops chuckle, “You sure are, love.”

-----

There’s a knock on my door about twenty minutes later. Before I get there, I know it’s Pops. As I open the door, he pulls me into his arms. And that’s all it takes.

If there’s one feeling more comfortable than hugging a significant other, it’s being held by a parent. No matter how old I am, my dads can always make me feel like a child that needs their help. I don’t know if it’s the strong arms or the familiar smell, but the feeling is like going home.

And that’s when I let myself crumble. He somehow manages to get us over to the couch where I curl up next to him. For a while, I don’t speak. Letting my head fall on his shoulder, I just sit and let myself think everything over.

A while after just sitting there while Pops watches T.V, I decide it’s time to tell him what’s going on. Turning to him, I take a deep breath and tell him everything for the beginning. Well, almost everything. I’m sure Dad’s told him about me not wanting to get into a relationship with Henry and the lecture he gave me. Instead, I tell him all about the killer and what we know about him. I tell him about the letters and how they keep threatening me. I tell him that I’m worried about the family and our friends. But mostly I tell him about how I love Henry and how much I’m terrified that something horrible will happen to him because of me.

I do not tell him that the house is bugged – mostly because I don’t want to have to say the breakup was fake. When he starts to mention Dad, I shake my head. I don’t need them to know where Henry is or that I can still have some sort of contact with him; even if it is secondhand.

By the time I’m done telling him what happened to Sanders a few hours before, I can tell he had a lot to say. He doesn’t though, he just nods his head and rests back against the couch.

A few minutes later, he sits up and looks me in the eye, “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, love. I really liked Henry, he’s a good lad. How about I throw together a fry up and you get the couch and stuff ready and we’ll have a movie day?” It sounds perfect, but I don’t want to hold him back from doing whatever it is he’s supposed to be today. I communicate that much to him, but he brushes me off, “I have the day off. Brie is staying until Sunday so she’ll be there with Nikki. I’ll just call your father and tell him we’re staying in today.” When my eyebrow furrow, he nods, “I’ll make sure everything is fine with him too.”

-----

It doesn’t take him long to talk to Dad. He makes sure to tell me that everything is, in fact, alright. It makes me feel a little better.

I pull out the couch and grab some pillows and blankets for the hall closet. By the time I’m starting to pick out a movie, he’s just starting the actual cooking. We talk and he tries to make me laugh while he cooks. It’s an actual good time.

I miss spending time with my parents. They’re always so good at distracting me. Or helping me. Or really, whatever I need they’re always there for me. I realize not everyone has parents as amazing or dedicated as mine and sometimes I forget how good I have it.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the negatives for everyone around me being famous that I forget that they’re such amazing people. I know I have a wonderful family and I know my friends love me. It’s just that sometimes it’s overwhelming for everyone to know your business.

The first time I met Henry, I told him not to treat me family or friends different because of their media status. But, I get swept up in the same stuff all the time. Even if it is the other end of the spectrum. Where people that meet them usually glorify them for being famous, I do the opposite. I turn them into the bad guys.

Just as Pops is pulling the last pieces of bacon from the pan, I look up and smile at him, “Thanks Pops.”

He shakes his head, “No problem, Ducky. I love to cook, you know.”

Chuckling, I shake my head, “No, I mean for being a good parent.”

“Oh,” he nods his head, “that. No need to thank me, that’s my job, son.”

“But you didn’t have to,” I insist.

He puts the cookware done and looks me straight in the eye, “You’ll understand better when you’re a parent, but you’re right. I didn’t have to. There was a lot of times that I just wanted to scream. There are times that I wished I could have a little alone time. There are times that I wanted to bang my head against a wall.” He rolls his eyes contradicting his smirk as I laugh. Then he stands back up, “But those are the times that pass and you forget about them ten minutes later because you’d be smiling to big your eyes would squint because you figured out how to get a biscuit from the cupboard. Or when Brie would come running in with a new picture she wanted to hang on the fridge. Or when Nik would learn a new dance move and do it over and over down the hallway. All the bad stuff instantly goes away.”

His smile is comfortable as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter behind him, “For me, it wasn’t a choice. We planned to have the three of you. Obviously, we had to. And not for a single second have I ever regretted it. I loved your father before you kids came around, but raising kids together has brought us even closer. You three have been a blessing to us. So did I have to do it?” He looks to be thinking for a second before he decides, “No, I didn’t. But I wanted to with every fiber of my being. Plus you’re all so cute, how could I help it?”

At that I laugh outright, “I think you bias.”

“It’s possible,” he nods.

We’re silent for a few minutes as he starts to plate the food between us. When he hands me one of them, a thought comes to mind.

“Pops, why do you call me Ducky?”

He smiles fondly and motions for me to follow him to the pullout bed. As soon as we’re comfortable he looks over, “My mum used to call me Ducky and I hated it. Did it right up until she passed away.”

“I don’t remember that,” I confess.

He nods, “That’s because when she was around you lot, she didn’t pay any attention to me.”

I chuckle again, “You two were close weren’t you?”

He takes a bite and stays silent for a minute. “One of my very favorite people,” he finally agrees. “My favorite person and then I met your father. And then we had you kids and she got pushed back a little more. But, she’ll always be my mum. It’s not that I loved you guys more. It was just different. There’s a point in everyone’s life that they move from their parents and siblings being their immediate family to having a spouse and children.”

He takes a deep breath, “We expect it, you know?” He looks at me and has a proud smile, “We know that you’re going to grow up and have a family of your own. We know that you’ll have people that rely on you and you won’t need your dads anymore. We know that.”

He takes another bite and chews before continuing, “You’re at that stage now. Whether it’s Henry or you find someone else, soon you’ll be married and have kids that look up to you. We’ll get pushed back on your priorities.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he smiles and shakes his head, “Not because you love us any less, but because they’ll need you more than we do. We’ll always love you. No matter how old you are or what situation you’ve gotten yourself into, you’ll still be our son. So just like me, you’ll always be Ducky. You’ll always be that little blonde toddler that couldn’t be contained by child gates. The same little boy who lost both his front teeth as the same time because he got hit in the face by a football.”

“Soccer ball,” I correct him with a smile.

He shakes his head, “Football, yea?” We both chuckle for a few moments. Then we’re both smiling and he looks up at me, “I love you, son. Always will.”

“I love you too, Pops,” I agree before getting up and grabbing my favorite movie from when I was younger. Holding it up, I say, “A classic.”

 “One of my favorites,” he smiles. When I sit back down and grab my plate he looks over, “Did I ever tell you about the day we were shooting for the opening scene and your father messed up the entire production day because he was laughing so much?”

I shake my head, “Nope.”

“He and I had met a few time before then to run lines and basically get to know each other. And quickly we became really good mates…”

He launches into a story of the jokes he told on set all day and got Dad in trouble for it. He comments about how he didn’t think they were as funny as he made them out to be, but he had a great time. Either way, the antics between my parents cause the first day of production, of their very first movie together, to be wasted.

Together, we watch ‘Save the Day’ and I laugh as Pops inserts little commentary or stories about when they were shooting. It almost enough to make me forget about Henry and how hard he must be taking all this. I just hope that Dad is distracting him as well as Pops is doing for me.

~A/N~

Just a little filler. But also, it's a good father/son or Damian/Blain time. I know you guys love to see the dads interact.