At Wesley's apartment

Wesley was in his apartment's makeshift gym, the rhythmic thuds of his punches echoing off the walls as he worked the punching bag. His focus was intense, each hit a testament to his dedication and the stress he was channeling. The room was filled with the steady beat of his workout playlist, music that pushed him to give his all.

As he took a brief break to grab a bottle of water, Wesley wiped the sweat from his brow, letting the cool liquid refresh him. The music still played softly in the background, but it was at this moment that he noticed Lucy standing in the doorway, her presence almost unnoticed until now.

She leaned casually against the frame, a playful smile on her face as she watched him. Wesley's eyes widened in surprise, and he nearly dropped his water bottle.

"Lucy! What—what are you doing here?" he stammered, a mix of surprise and embarrassment in his voice.

Lucy stepped into the room, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just came by to see if you were ready for work and heard the music. I didn't expect to find you here, uh, punching away."

Wesley ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to regain his composure. "Yeah, just getting in a quick workout before heading out. I didn't know you were coming by."

Lucy's gaze softened as she walked over to him. "I thought I'd surprise you. You look like you're really into it."

Wesley chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Yeah, it helps clear my head. And I guess I didn't realize how loud I was being."

Lucy's smile grew wider as she playfully teased, "Loud enough to wake the neighbors, I'd say. But I have to admit, it's kind of impressive seeing you like this. You're all focused and intense."

Wesley's cheeks flushed slightly. "Well, I guess I'm not always the suave and composed guy you see at work."

Lucy stepped closer, her eyes filled with admiration. "I like seeing this side of you. It's real and raw. And you're looking strong."

Wesley grinned, a mix of pride and shyness. "Thanks. I'm glad you think so."

Lucy reached out and touched his arm gently, her touch warm and reassuring. "I didn't mean to interrupt your routine. I just wanted to see you before we head out. But if you need more time, I can wait."

Wesley shook his head, his smile widening. "No, it's fine. I'm ready. Let's go."

He took a final swig of water and set the bottle aside, then wiped his hands on a towel. Lucy watched him with a tender look in her eyes, and as he approached her, he gently took her hand in his.

"Let's make today a great day," he said softly.

Lucy nodded, her gaze full of affection. "I'm looking forward to it."

As they walked out of the apartment together, Wesley felt a renewed sense of energy and connection. The day ahead held its challenges, but with Lucy by his side, he felt ready to face whatever came their way.

On the road

Wesley and Lucy drove to work, the early morning sun casting a warm glow through the car windows. The hum of the engine and the soft tunes on the radio created a calming backdrop to their quiet conversation.

As Wesley drove, Lucy settled into the passenger seat, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his arm. Wesley responded by shifting slightly, allowing her to snuggle closer, his arm instinctively going around her to hold her snugly.

Lucy sighed contentedly, her breath warm against his skin. "You know, I never thought I'd enjoy morning drives this much."

Wesley smiled, his gaze focused on the road ahead but his attention was clearly divided between driving and the warmth of Lucy beside him. "Why's that?"

Lucy's voice was soft and relaxed. "Because I get to start my day with you. Makes the early wake-up worth it."

Wesley chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. "Glad to hear that. I feel the same way."

The radio played a familiar tune, and Lucy hummed along softly, her contentment evident. Wesley glanced at her, his eyes filled with warmth as he stole brief moments to appreciate her presence.

Lucy tilted her head up, looking at him with a playful glint in her eyes. "You know, if every day started like this, I might not even need that extra coffee."

Wesley laughed, the sound a mix of amusement and affection. "I'll take that as a compliment. Maybe I should consider a career as a morning chauffeur."

Lucy smiled, squeezing his arm gently. "I think you've already found your calling."

As they drove through the quiet streets, Wesley and Lucy enjoyed the simple pleasure of each other's company. The world outside felt distant, and the only thing that mattered was the moment they shared.

When they reached the precinct, Wesley slowed the car and came to a stop. He gently brushed a strand of hair from Lucy's face, his touch tender and loving.

"Ready to start the day?" he asked softly, his gaze locking with hers.

Lucy nodded, her eyes shining with affection. "Definitely. As long as I get to start it with you."

They shared a final, brief kiss before Wesley reluctantly pulled away, his hand lingering on hers for a moment longer.

Wesley got out of the car and walked around to open Lucy's door, helping her out with a smile. As they headed into the building, their hands entwined, they carried with them the warmth and closeness of their morning drive, ready to face whatever the day had in store for them.

Grey found Wesley at the station and said, "Wesley, we need to talk. Your adoptive father was arrested for assault. He's asking for you specifically."

Wesley looked up, his face tight with concern. "Cross? What happened?"

Grey said, "I don't have all the details yet, but he's only willing to speak with you."

Wesley nodded, processing the news. "Alright. I'll go see him."

Wesley and Lucy walked to his car. 

On the road

As they drove to the detention center, Wesley's mind was racing. His relationship with Cross had always been strained. Cross had left him behind for the Fraternity when Wesley was still a kid, and they had never reconciled.

Lucy noticed Wesley's tense grip on the wheel and gently placed a hand on his arm. "You okay?"

Wesley gave her a brief, tight smile. "Yeah. Just... I haven't seen him in years. It's going to be... complicated."

At the detention center

When they arrived at the detention center, Wesley and Lucy walked inside. Wesley flashed his badge and was directed to the interrogation room.

Wesley entered the room to find Cross seated at a metal table. Cross looked older than Wesley remembered, his face marked with the passage of time and the weight of his decisions.

Cross looked up, his eyes meeting Wesley's with a mix of defiance and weariness. "Wesley."

Wesley took a seat opposite him, his expression guarded. "Cross."

Cross shifted slightly, his voice rough. "I didn't think I'd see you again under these circumstances."

Wesley's tone was cool. "What happened? Why are you here?"

Cross said, "I got into a fight. Long story. But I needed to talk to you. I'm not just here to get out of this mess. There are things I need to explain."

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "Explain? After all these years?"

Cross nodded. "I know it's a lot to ask. But I need you to hear me out. I made choices that I regret. And I want to make things right."

Wesley crossed his arms. "I don't know if I'm ready for that. What's there to say after so much time?"

Cross sighed. "I understand. But before you make up your mind, hear me out. I owe you that much."

Wesley glanced at Lucy, who gave him a reassuring nod. Wesley turned back to Cross. "Alright. Talk."

As Cross began to speak, Wesley listened, his emotions a turbulent mix of curiosity and skepticism. It was clear that this conversation would be more than just about the current charges—it was a chance to address the past and possibly find some measure of closure.

Cross took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he began, "Wesley, I know I'm not in a position to ask for forgiveness. But I need you to understand why I left. I joined the Fraternity because I thought it was the only way to provide for us. I believed their promise of power and security would make things better for you."

Wesley's face darkened. "Better? You left me to be raised by assassins. I was just a kid, Cross! You let them turn me into one of them!"

Cross's eyes met Wesley's, filled with a mixture of regret and guilt. "I never wanted that for you. I thought... I thought if I could make enough money and secure a future, it would make up for the pain of leaving you behind."

Wesley slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing through the room. "Make up for it? Do you think that's enough? You left me in a world where I had to survive by becoming what you were—a killer. You didn't just abandon me. You molded me into something I never wanted to be."

Cross's shoulders slumped, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't know how to get out. The Fraternity's grip is tight, and I thought if I tried to leave, it would put you in even greater danger."

Wesley's voice was filled with fury and pain. "Danger? You're the one who put me in danger! You let them train me, let them shape me into a weapon! I lost my childhood because of you, my sense of normalcy. You made me a killer, Cross!"

Cross looked down, unable to meet Wesley's gaze. "I didn't know how to fix it. I was trapped in a life I couldn't escape from. I'm sorry, Wesley. I truly am."

Wesley's anger was palpable, his fists clenched at his sides. "Sorry doesn't change what you did. It doesn't undo the years I spent in that world. I'm not sure if I can ever forgive you for that."

Cross's voice was broken. "I understand. I don't expect you to. I just needed you to know the truth."

Wesley took a deep breath, his voice steadier but still tinged with emotion. "The truth is, you made choices that destroyed my life. And now, even after all this time, I'm left to deal with the consequences of your decisions."

Cross nodded, tears welling in his eyes. "I know. And I'll live with that guilt for the rest of my life."

Wesley stood up, his expression a mix of anger and sorrow. "I came here for answers, but all I got was more pain. I'm done. We're finished here."

As Wesley turned to leave, Lucy stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. Wesley looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of anguish and exhaustion.

Lucy squeezed his shoulder gently, offering silent support as Wesley walked out of the room, leaving Cross behind with the weight of his past and the shattered remnants of their relationship.

At the station

Wesley stormed into Grey's office, his face still flushed from the confrontation with Cross. Grey looked up from his desk, his expression shifting from surprise to concern as he saw Wesley's troubled state.

"Wesley, what's—" Grey began, but Wesley cut him off.

"Why did you tell me about Cross?" Wesley's voice was rough, laced with frustration. "Why bring him back into my life after everything I've worked to leave behind? All it did was reopen old wounds."

Grey leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. "Wesley, I knew this would be difficult, but I had to tell you. Cross is connected to a serious case now. His actions have legal ramifications, and I needed you to be aware."

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "You think I care about his legal issues? I care about what he did to me. You've made me relive the worst parts of my past. Why would you do that?"

Grey sighed, understanding the depth of Wesley's pain. "I knew it wouldn't be easy. But I also know how you work, Wesley. You need to confront your past to move forward. I thought you needed to know the full story, even if it meant reopening old wounds."

Wesley's voice cracked with emotion. "You don't understand. It's not just about confronting the past. It's about feeling like everything I've done to move on has been for nothing. Cross's actions shaped my life in ways I can't escape, and now I have to face him again?"

Grey stood up and walked around his desk, placing a reassuring hand on Wesley's shoulder. "I didn't want to hurt you, Wesley. I wanted to make sure you had all the information you needed. I thought you were strong enough to handle it."

Wesley shrugged off Grey's hand, his frustration unabated. "Strong enough? Maybe. But that doesn't mean I wanted to drag all this back into my life. I was just beginning to find some peace."

Grey's voice softened. "I'm sorry for the pain this has caused. I hope you can find a way to work through it. If you need time, support, or anything else, I'm here."

Wesley took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I appreciate the support, but right now, I need to process this on my own. I need to figure out how to deal with Cross and the way his actions still affect me."

Grey nodded, giving Wesley a sympathetic look. "Understood. If you need anything or want to talk, you know where to find me."

Wesley gave a curt nod and turned to leave, his mind still swirling with the emotional turmoil of the day. As he walked out of Grey's office, he tried to focus on the path ahead, determined to confront his past while finding a way to move forward.

At Wesley's apartment

Wesley was back at his apartment, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions from the day. He had managed to pace around the living room for a while, trying to clear his head, when he heard a knock on the door.

He opened it to find Tim standing there, looking concerned.

"Hey, Wesley," Tim said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "I heard about what happened with Cross. Mind if I check in?"

Wesley nodded, though his face was still set in a troubled expression. "Yeah, come in."

Tim walked over to the couch and took a seat, gesturing for Wesley to join him. Wesley sank into the opposite end, running a hand through his hair.

"How're you holding up?" Tim asked, his tone gentle but sincere.

Wesley shrugged. "It's been rough. I didn't expect to see him again, let alone have him show up like this. It's just... it feels like everything I've worked for to move past it is getting undone."

Tim nodded, understanding the weight of Wesley's words. "I get it. Dealing with someone from your past can be challenging, especially when it's someone who left such a mark on your life."

Wesley looked at Tim, a mixture of gratitude and frustration in his eyes. "Why did Grey even have to bring him up? I was trying to keep that part of my life buried. Now it's like it's all come crashing back."

Tim leaned forward, his expression serious. "Grey did what he thought was right, but I know it's not easy. It's hard to confront those old wounds. But maybe it's not about erasing the past; it's about understanding it and finding a way to move forward."

Wesley sighed deeply. "I keep thinking about how Cross left me to be raised by the Fraternity. It's like my whole life was dictated by his actions. I was never given a choice in any of it."

Tim's voice softened. "That's a tough burden to carry. But you're not defined by what happened to you. You've built a life for yourself, and you're making choices that reflect who you are now, not who you were forced to be."

Wesley looked up, meeting Tim's gaze. "Thanks. I know you're right. It's just hard to see past all the anger and pain sometimes."

Tim placed a reassuring hand on Wesley's shoulder. "You don't have to go through this alone. If you need to talk, vent, or just have someone around, I'm here. You've been there for me before, and I want to be there for you."

Wesley managed a small smile. "I appreciate it, Tim. It means a lot."

Tim gave a supportive nod. "Anytime. We're all in this together. Just remember, you don't have to carry all of this weight on your own."

Wesley nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders. "Thanks, Tim. I'll keep that in mind."

Tim stood up, preparing to leave. "I'll check in on you later. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Wesley watched him go, feeling a bit more grounded. As the door closed behind Tim, he took a deep breath, ready to face the challenges ahead with a renewed sense of determination.

Back at the station

Wesley walked into the station and headed towards the briefing room, still processing his meeting with Cross. As he entered, he heard Grey's voice cut through the murmur of the room.

"Bottom line: Every recruit now has to complete the 'training and experience' checklist as a primary officer before they can take the six-month exam."

Tim looked incredulous. "You've got to be kidding me. I don't let my rookies be primary until their second month."

Lopez chimed in, "If our recruits experience an event, it shouldn't matter if they were primary. It's not fair to them or us."

Grey nodded in agreement. "I hear you, but this is 'cover your ass' time for the department. When the city gets sued, the first thing they check is the officer's training and experience. They've decided that 'experience' can't just be 'I was there.'"

Bishop raised a hand. "Can we start this with the next round of recruits?"

Grey's response was blunt. "The LAPD is a bureaucracy. The last thing they care about is a bunch of rookies."

Lucy spoke up, "So, how do we know how many cases we owe?"

Grey glanced at his clipboard. "Putting your listening ears on, Officer Chen. To complete your checklist, you need to be primary on auto theft, carjacking, ethical dilemma, meth possession, false ID, assault on a peace officer, and damage to city property."

Lucy's eyes widened. "That's... seven things."

Lopez asked, "What about us?"

Grey answered, "Officer West needs high-risk crowd control, meth possession, and carjacking."

Jackson replied, "Piece of cake, boss."

Grey looked at Jackson and said, "I mean, 'sir.'"

John raised his hand. "I'm afraid to ask."

Grey replied. "So, Officer Nolan, the number of items you need on your checklist is... zero. You might want to thank your training officer for making you primary from day one."

Wesley asked, "What about me?"

The room turned to Wesley, who was in uniform. Grey smiled and said, "Good to see you finally came to your senses. Like Officer Nolan, you don't have any items on your checklist, Officer Wick. And, to rip off the Band-Aid, HR needs proof of completion by the end of the shift tomorrow. Otherwise, the recruits will be extended in the program."

Lucy groaned. "Meaning we fall behind."

Tim added, "Sir, there's no way we can control what 'experiences' they'll get in the next two days."

Grey nodded. "Understood. I know this is a tall order, but I believe in you. I've notified dispatch of the calls that are needed. They'll funnel them to you if—when—they come in. That's it. Good luck. Be safe out there."

As everyone began to leave, Grey called out, "Officer Nolan, since you're free and clear, go see Detective Wolfe. He has a job for you and Bishop."

Lucy and Wesley walked out of the briefing room. Lucy let out a groan. "I have seven things to do for this checklist."

Wesley reassured her, "Don't worry, I'll help you."

Tim joined them. "Hey, I figured I'd ride with you guys and try to help since I started training, Boot."

Wesley smirked. "Perfect. With three officers, what could go wrong?"

Later

On patrol

Wesley, Tim, and Lucy were on the side of the street, having pulled over a man Tim identified as someone who always carries meth.

Lucy was patting him down, and once she was finished, she said, "He's clean."

The man, Fred, nervously said, "I'm sorry."

Tim looked at him with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. "You're always carrying, Fred. What happened?"

Fred held up a small chip. "Got my 30-day chip."

Tim's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Wow. Congratulations."

Fred looked relieved but conflicted. "I feel bad I let you down."

Tim reassured him, "It's all good. It's all good. Say hi to Wilma for me. You're free to go."

Fred walked away, and Lucy turned to Tim with a puzzled look. "You said he was a sure checkmark for drug possession. What gives?"

Tim shrugged. "What can I say? He got clean. It's inspiring."

Wesley chuckled, and Lucy gave him a stern look. "Why are you laughing? I don't appreciate the human-interest story. I mean, Jackson at least has a chance with only three calls, but seven?"

Wesley stopped laughing and said, "Okay, people win the lottery every day, even with long odds. There are 18 million people in the Greater Los Angeles area. We just need seven of them to break very specific laws."

Dispatch crackled over the radio. "7-Adam-100, store owner reporting a customer trying to pass counterfeit bills near your location. Hispanic male, brown hair, blue suit."

Wesley grabbed his radio and responded, "7-Adam-100, responding."

He clipped the radio back onto his belt, and Lucy looked at him with concern. "I don't need a counterfeiting case."

Wesley grinned. "Look on the bright side. You do need an assault on an officer. Maybe he'll take a swing at you."

Lucy rolled her eyes but managed a small smile. "Right."

The three of them climbed into the patrol car—Wesley behind the wheel, Lucy in the passenger seat, and Tim in the back. As they drove off, Wesley glanced at Lucy and Tim, a determined look on his face.

Later

Wesley, Lopez, Tim, and Bishop were grabbing a bite to eat, and the tension from the day was palpable. Lopez sighed and said, "The pressure's getting to them."

Wesley nodded, looking a bit weary himself. "It's getting to me, too. I've never had a rookie make it this far without qualifying for the exam. It's tough—on them and us."

Tim chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, while Bishop glanced over to where John Nolan was standing with the rookies. "Nolan's over there giving them a pep talk," she observed.

Lopez and Wesley turned to look at Nolan, who seemed to be in full mentor mode. Wesley smirked. "I can practically hear what he's saying."

Tim raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh yeah? What's he saying?"

Wesley cleared his throat, getting into character. He imitated his brother's voice with an exaggerated seriousness. "Look, I hate to play the age card," he began, then shifted to a high-pitched, almost whiny tone to mimic Lucy, "Do you?"

Switching back to John's voice, Wesley said, "It's the only card I have."

Bishop burst into laughter. "Your impression of Nolan is spot on."

Wesley chuckled along, clearly enjoying the moment.

Tim, intrigued, asked, "How did you meet your brother anyway? You said you guys are only half-brothers, so how did that come about?"

Wesley smiled, a flood of memories washing over him. He remembered the day he met John after discovering they shared the same father, Charles Nolan. His mind drifted back to that moment, the shock, the awkwardness, and the strange but instant connection.

Wesley leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before diving into the story. "I was 23 when I first met John," he began a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "I had no idea I even had a half-brother until my mom dropped that bombshell on me."

Lopez, curious, asked, "How did she tell you?"

Wesley chuckled, shaking his head. "It wasn't a heartwarming family reunion, that's for sure. My mom just blurted it out one day—told me that my biological father was Charles Nolan and that I had a half-brother named John. I was shocked, to say the least. I mean, growing up, I always thought my adoptive dad was my real dad, even though we never had a great relationship."

Bishop leaned in, clearly interested. "So what did you do?"

Wesley sighed, remembering how awkward that day had been. "I was curious, of course. So, I decided to track John down. I didn't know what to expect. I thought, 'How do you even start a conversation like that?'"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, it's not exactly something you can just drop into casual conversation."

Wesley laughed. "Exactly. I finally got the courage to reach out. I found out where John was working—he was doing construction back then. I remember showing up at one of his job sites. I was nervous as hell. I walked up to him, and when he looked at me, it was like he knew something was up."

Lopez raised an eyebrow. "How did he react?"

Wesley smiled, the memory still vivid. "He was surprised. But John, being John, was just... cool about it. He had this calm demeanor like he'd seen it all. I told him who I was, and that we shared the same father. There was this long, awkward silence, and then he just said, 'Well, I guess that makes us brothers.' He was accepting from the start, no drama, no anger—just acceptance."

Bishop nodded, impressed. "That sounds like Nolan. Always the level-headed one."

Wesley nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it was weird at first, but we got to know each other. It wasn't easy—trying to build a relationship with someone who's technically family but feels like a stranger. But John made it easier. He's a good guy, always willing to help out, always trying to do the right thing."

Tim leaned back, taking it all in. "That's pretty wild. I can't imagine finding out you had a sibling like that."

Wesley shrugged. "Yeah, it was a lot to process, but I'm glad I found out. John's been a solid influence in my life. We've had each other's backs ever since, even when things get tough."

Lopez smiled. "Sounds like you two have a strong bond."

Wesley nodded, his expression softening. "Yeah, we do. It took time, but we got there. I'm lucky to have him as a brother."

As Wesley finished recounting the story of meeting John for the first time, Tim leaned in, sensing that there was more to Wesley's past than he'd shared.

"So, what's the deal with your adoptive dad? Cross, right?" Tim asked, his tone curious but respectful.

Wesley took a deep breath, his gaze shifting as he remembered the difficult past. "Cross... he wasn't exactly the fatherly type. He was more committed to the Fraternity than to being a parent. When I was a kid, I thought he was this invincible figure, always in control, always one step ahead. But he wasn't around much. When I was old enough, he left me with the Fraternity, thinking they'd mold me into something better than he ever could."

Tim frowned. "He just... left you there? Like, to be trained as an assassin?"

Wesley nodded, his expression hardening. "Yeah. He believed the Fraternity's way was the only way to survive in this world. But to me, it was abandonment. I was just a kid, suddenly surrounded by killers who saw me as their next project. Cross thought he was doing me a favor, giving me the tools to be strong, to survive anything. But all it did was make me resent him. He turned his back on me, and I had to grow up fast. The Fraternity took away whatever was left of my childhood."

Tim shook his head. "That's rough, man. But you made it out, didn't let it consume you."

Wesley nodded a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, I did. I learned from the best, but I also learned what not to be. I chose to be different, to be better. And now, every time I put on this uniform, it's a reminder that I'm not that scared kid anymore. I'm in control of my life, not them, and certainly not Cross."

There was a moment of silence as Tim, Lopez, and Bishop absorbed Wesley's words. Tim finally spoke, his voice steady. "You've come a long way, Wesley. And you're a damn good cop. Whatever Cross tried to make you, you've proven you're more than that."

Wesley managed a small smile, appreciating the support from his friends. "Thanks, Tim. That means a lot."

After Wesley finished recounting how he met John, the conversation shifted. Lopez, sensing there was more to Wesley's story, leaned in and asked, "Wesley, what about your adoptive dad, Cross? You've mentioned him a couple of times, but what happened between you two?"

Wesley hesitated, the question striking a nerve. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking.

"Cross... he wasn't like a normal dad. He was part of the Fraternity, a group of assassins. I didn't know it at first, but he was always distant, always gone. When I was eight, he came back after being away for what felt like forever. I was so excited, thinking maybe this time things would be different. But instead, he took me to this old, rundown warehouse, no explanations, nothing."

Wesley's voice grew tight with emotion as he continued. "He threw me into a room full of older kids—kids who were already deep into the Fraternity's training program. He didn't say goodbye or give any comforting words. He just... left me there. I was alone and scared, and those kids... they were brutal. The training was harsh, designed to turn us into assassins. And I realized that to him, I wasn't his son—I was just another tool to be sharpened, another weapon for the Fraternity."

Lopez shook her head, her expression filled with sympathy. "That's terrible, Wesley. No one should have to go through that."

Tim, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. "But you didn't let that define you. You walked away, and chose a different path."

Wesley nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "Yeah, I did. I promised myself I'd never be like him, never let anyone control me like that again. That's why I became a cop. To protect people, to make sure no one else ends up like I did."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of Wesley's story hanging in the air. His friends looked at him with a newfound respect, understanding now just how much he had overcome to be the man he was today.

Wesley looked down, the memories weighing heavily on him. After a long pause, he continued, his voice lower, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

"I was fifteen when I made my first kill," he said, the words feeling like they were being dragged out of him. "The target was a man who had crossed the Fraternity. I didn't know who he was or why he was marked. All I knew was that if I didn't follow orders, I'd be the next target."

Tim, Lopez, and Bishop exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the gravity of what Wesley was revealing.

Wesley stared at his hands as if he could still see the weapon in them. "I remember the first time I pulled the trigger. I was standing in the dark, waiting for him to leave the building he was in. I could see him laughing with someone, just... living his life. And then, in an instant, it was over. He dropped, and I stood there, thinking, 'Is this it? Is this the day I lose my humanity and become the monster my adoptive father was?'"

He clenched his fists, the tension in his body visible. "Every time I took a life after that, it was the same question. Every time I pulled the trigger, I felt like I was losing another piece of myself. Like I was slipping further away from who I wanted to be, and closer to becoming the monster Cross wanted me to be."

Lopez looked at Wesley with empathy, her voice soft as she asked, "How did you keep going, Wesley? How did you not lose yourself?"

Wesley let out a heavy breath, his eyes reflecting the turmoil he had lived through. "I didn't have a choice. I was trapped. But I held on to the hope that one day, I'd get out. That one day, I'd stop being what they made me and start being who I chose to be. I told myself that every time I felt like a monster, I'd remind myself that I wasn't one yet. That there was still a chance to turn things around."

Tim nodded, his face showing admiration for Wesley's resilience. "And you did. You got out. You chose a different path."

"Yeah," Wesley said, his voice resolute. "But those memories... they don't just go away. They're a part of me, and they always will be. But I'll keep fighting to make sure that's not all I am. That's why I'm here. To make sure that no one else ever has to feel that way. To protect people, even if it's just from becoming the kind of person I was trained to be."

Bishop leaned in, placing a hand on Wesley's shoulder. "You're not that person anymore, Wesley. You're one of the good guys now. And we've got your back, no matter what."

Lopez nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. You've come a long way, Wesley. And you're doing good—real good."

Wesley gave them a small, appreciative smile, the weight on his shoulders seeming to lighten just a bit. "Thanks. That means more than you know."

The room settled into a reflective silence, each of them processing the depths of what Wesley had shared. In that moment, they weren't just colleagues—they were a family, bound together by the struggles and pain that had shaped them all.

Wesley looked down, the burden of his past heavy in his eyes. After a moment, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I go to sleep at night, I see every single one of them—the people I've killed. Their faces haunt me, staring back at me in the darkness. I thought leaving that life behind would make it easier, but it hasn't. Those memories... they don't let go."

Tim, Lopez, and Bishop were silent, each of them absorbing the weight of Wesley's confession.

Wesley continued, his voice filled with a mix of regret and pain. "I still feel like a monster, even though I'm not pulling the trigger anymore. I know I'm doing the right thing now, but that doesn't erase what I've done. It's like a stain that won't wash off, no matter how hard I try. Every time I close my eyes, I see them. I see their faces, and I wonder... was there another way? Could I have done something different? And then I remember... I was just a kid. A kid who didn't have a choice."

Lopez leaned in, her expression filled with empathy. "Wesley, you were forced into that life. What they made you do—it wasn't who you are. You're not a monster. You're a survivor."

Tim nodded, his voice firm. "She's right. You've been through hell, but you came out the other side. You chose to change, to be better. That takes strength, Wes. More strength than most people will ever know."

Bishop added softly, "Those memories might never leave you, but they don't define you. What you're doing now, who you've become—that's what matters. And you're not alone in this. We're here for you, every step of the way."

Wesley looked at each of them, his eyes reflecting both gratitude and the deep scars of his past. "I appreciate that. I do. But sometimes... sometimes it feels like I'll never be able to escape it. No matter how hard I try, I'll always be that kid who was taught to kill. And that's what scares me the most—that I'll never truly be free of it."

Lopez reached out, placing a comforting hand on Wesley's arm. "You're not that kid anymore. You're Wesley Wick—a cop, a friend, someone who's making a difference. You've got a family here, and we're not going to let you go through this alone."

Tim gave Wesley a reassuring nod. "You're one of us, Wes. And we'll face whatever comes together. You're not fighting this battle by yourself."

Wesley's expression softened, the support of his friends easing some of the pain he carried. "Thanks. It helps, knowing I've got you all in my corner. I just... I need to keep reminding myself that I'm not that person anymore. That I'm not a monster."

Bishop smiled gently. "You're not, Wesley. You're a good man. And you've got a whole lot of people who believe in you—including us."

For a moment, the weight on Wesley's shoulders seemed to lighten, the darkness of his past dimmed by the support of his friends. In that brief moment, he felt a flicker of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, he could finally find peace.

Dispatch's voice crackled over the radio: "All units, we have a 215 in progress—a carjacking at Beverly Drive and Oakwood."

Wesley grabbed his radio, his tone urgent. "7-Adam-100, show us responding."

Lopez, already on her radio, added, "7-Adam-07, responding for training purposes."

Wesley shot back, "No way. Chen needs this more."

Lopez fired back, "We're primary. It's our call."

Wesley retorted, "Not if you don't get there first."

He sprang to his feet, abandoning his meal. "Let's go, Boot!"

Lucy and Tim sprang into action, following Wesley. Wesley noticed his window was open, so he leaped through it, sliding into his car. Tim ducked into the back seat, crawling in as Wesley accelerated.

Lucy, seeing the moving car, leaped through the open passenger window and landed gracefully inside. Wesley glanced over with a smirk. "You think you can catch us now!"

Lopez, still waiting for Jackson, watched in frustration as Wesley peeled out, leaving a trail of tire smoke.

Tim grinned, "We're giving Lopez a run for her money."

Wesley chuckled. "Yeah, I noticed."

As Wesley sped down the street, Lucy leaned back in her seat, laughing. "You two are like a couple of children," she said, shaking her head. "Always trying to outdo each other."

Tim grinned from the back seat. "Guilty as charged. But we've got to keep Lopez on her toes."

Lucy chuckled. "Yeah, and you're both acting like the bully brothers. I swear, sometimes I think you two are just trying to make her life harder."

Wesley shot her a playful look. "Hey, it's all in good fun. Keeps everyone sharp."

Lucy's laughter echoed in the car. "Well, if being bullied by you two keeps me on my game, I guess I'll take it."

Tim chimed in, "Look at it this way, Boot—consider it a rite of passage."

Lucy rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Right. As long as you two don't start pulling any more stunts, I think we'll all be just fine."

Wesley grinned. "No promises. It's all part of the job."

As they approached the scene, the camaraderie between them was evident, even amidst the urgency of the call.

They parked sideways, with Lopez pulling in next to them. Jackson was the first out of the car, sprinting toward the scene. Lucy followed, shouting, "Police! Clear the area!"

As they reached the commotion, Wesley spotted Jackson checking on the victim. His heart sank when he recognized Ben lying on the ground.

Wesley rushed over, sliding to Ben's side. "Ben, look at me, buddy. Stay with me. It's okay."

Wesley quickly grabbed his radio and spoke urgently. "7-Adam-100, requesting an RA to my location. Male victim, about 5'11, white, possible concussion. Code 3."

Ben's gaze met Wesley's, and Lucy gasped, "Oh, my God."

Wesley gently reassured Ben, "Hang on, buddy. I've got you."

Wesley kept his focus on Ben, who was barely conscious. "Stay with me, Ben. Help is on the way."

Lopez pulled out her first aid kit while Jackson spoke with witnesses to gather information.

Lucy, shaken but composed, directed the bystanders. "Everyone, please move back and give the officers some space."

Wesley continued to talk to Ben, trying to keep him alert. "Ben, can you hear me? Just stay with me. Don't close your eyes."

Ben tried to respond but his words were barely audible. Wesley could see the pain and fear in Ben's eyes.

Dispatch came back on the radio. "7-Adam-100, unit responding to your location. Ambulance ETA is two minutes."

Wesley breathed a slight sigh of relief but kept his attention on Ben. "Hang in there, Ben. The ambulance is almost here."

Lucy knelt beside Wesley, her face a mask of concern. "Wesley, is he going to be okay?"

Wesley glanced at her, trying to mask his worry. "I don't know."

The distant wail of sirens grew louder, signaling the arrival of the ambulance. Wesley remained at Ben's side, his hand gently squeezing Ben's shoulder.

As the paramedics rushed to the scene, Wesley stood up to let them take over. "He's been unconscious, possible concussion. He needs immediate attention."

The paramedics quickly assessed Ben and began to stabilize him. Wesley watched anxiously as they loaded Ben into the ambulance.

Lucy touched Wesley's shoulder, her voice soft. "We're going to get through this. We'll make sure he gets the help he needs."

Wesley gave her a grateful nod, his eyes still fixed on the ambulance as it pulled away. "Thanks, Boot."

Wesley took a deep breath, steeling himself for the next steps in their case. The urgency of their work didn't lessen the personal weight he felt from seeing Ben in such a vulnerable state.

Later

At night

Wesley and Lucy were patrolling a dimly lit neighborhood, the silence broken only by the occasional hum of passing cars. Lucy sighed, staring at the screen displaying the results of the plates she had run. "Every license plate I check comes up clean. There's no way I'm going to meet this deadline."

Wesley glanced over at her with a smirk. "Not with that attitude, you won't."

Lucy huffed, her frustration evident. "We're almost at the end of the shift, honey, and I haven't checked off a single box all day."

Wesley remained unfazed, keeping his eyes on the road. "Well, a buddy of Tim's over at 77th said there have been more stolen cars in this neighborhood in the last month than all of Mid-Wilshire had last year."

Lucy looked out the window, hopeful. "I hope so."

As they approached a stop sign, Wesley slowed the car, eyeing a vehicle idling ahead of them. "Hold up," he said, coming to a stop.

Lucy quickly ran the plates and her eyes widened. "These plates don't match that car."

Wesley gave her a nod, his voice calm but encouraging. "And that's how you find a rolling stolen. Light 'em up, Boot."

Lucy activated the sirens, and they both exited the patrol car. She approached the driver's side, her voice steady but firm. "License and registration, please."

The woman behind the wheel looked nervous but cooperative. "I know why you pulled me over. Wrong plates. I'm so sorry."

Lucy tilted her head slightly. "Are the plates stolen or the car?"

The woman shook her head quickly. "Neither. They're mine—well, my husband's."

Lucy frowned, confused. "Why are your husband's plates on your car?"

The woman hesitated, then sighed. "We could only afford to register one car this year. It's been tough. When the one we registered broke down, I didn't know what else to do. I have to get to my night job."

Lucy's expression softened, but she remained professional. "You know it's illegal to use license plates from a different vehicle."

The woman nodded, her voice trembling. "I know. I'm so sorry. It was a stupid mistake. I should have known better."

Lucy looked down for a moment, conflicted, before stepping back to confer with Wesley at the rear of their patrol car. She sighed heavily. "I can't do this. She's just trying to get by."

Wesley looked at her with understanding. "It's your call, Lucy. You can cite her for the false plates and check a box, or you can let her go and risk not being able to take the final exam."

Lucy's frustration boiled over. "I don't want to be that cop. This whole box-ticking thing is driving me crazy. It's not who I am."

Wesley gave her a reassuring nod. "Then don't be that cop. Give her a warning."

Lucy took a deep breath and walked back to the woman, who was anxiously waiting in her car. "All right, listen, I'm not going to write you up, but you can't do this again, okay?"

The woman's relief was palpable. "Thank you. I won't."

Lucy handed back the papers and the license, her tone softening. "Drive safe."

As the woman drove off, Wesley joined Lucy, standing beside her as she watched the taillights fade into the distance.

"Want to hear some good news?" Wesley asked, a small smile playing on his lips. "This counts as an ethical dilemma. Which means you've checked a box."

Lucy let out a soft laugh, a hint of relief in her voice. "Only six more to go."

Wesley leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Lucy smiled and they both returned to the car, ready to face whatever came next.

Later

As the shift finally came to an end, Wesley and Lucy drove home in comfortable silence. The weight of the day's challenges lingered, but there was a sense of relief knowing they had made it through together. The neighborhood lights grew familiar as they approached their house.

Wesley pulled into the driveway, turning off the engine as they both took a moment to unwind. "Ready to face the music?" Wesley asked with a small smile.

Lucy chuckled softly. "Yeah, let's just hope Melissa isn't too upset."

They stepped out of the car and made their way to the front door. Wesley unlocked it quietly, and they slipped inside. The house was calm, the evening settling in. As they entered the living room, they found Melissa sitting on the couch, reading a book.

Melissa looked up as they walked in, a knowing smile on her face. "Well, well, look who finally decided to show up."

Wesley and Lucy exchanged sheepish glances. Wesley was the first to speak. "Sorry, Melissa. We didn't mean to be out so late. The shift ran longer than expected."

Lucy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we had a few things come up. We're sorry if we worried you."

Melissa closed her book, setting it aside. "You two are always running around saving the world. I figured you'd be late. But it's nice to see you both safe and sound."

Wesley walked over and gave Melissa a quick hug. "Thanks for understanding. We owe you one."

Lucy added, "Definitely. We'll make it up to you."

Melissa waved them off with a grin. "Just promise to give me a heads-up next time. And maybe a night off from worrying wouldn't hurt either."

Wesley laughed, his tension easing. "Deal."

Lucy smiled warmly. "We'll hold ourselves to it."

With that, the three of them settled into a more relaxed evening, leaving the stress of the day behind as they enjoyed the comfort of home.

After a bit of catching up and sharing a few laughs, Melissa glanced at the clock on the wall. "I should probably get going," she said, standing up and stretching. "I've got some things to take care of, but I'll be back before you two have to head out to work tomorrow."

Wesley nodded, getting up to walk her to the door. "Thanks again for everything, Melissa. We appreciate you watching over the place while we were out."

Lucy joined them at the door, giving Melissa a grateful smile. "Yeah, we do. You've been a lifesaver."

Melissa waved off their thanks with a smile. "It's no big deal. I'll see you both in the morning."

As she stepped outside, Wesley and Lucy stood in the doorway, watching as she made her way to her car. "Drive safe," Wesley called out as she got in and started the engine.

Melissa gave a final wave through the window. "I always do! See you both tomorrow."

They watched her drive off, the car's headlights fading as she turned the corner. Wesley closed the door behind them, locking it for the night.

Lucy sighed, leaning her head against Wesley's shoulder. "We're really lucky to have her."

Wesley wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "We are. She's been amazing."

They stood there for a moment, enjoying the quiet of the house now that they were alone. Wesley pressed a kiss to the top of Lucy's head. "How about we get some rest? We've earned it."

Lucy nodded, her eyes already heavy with exhaustion. "Sounds perfect."

Hand in hand, they headed upstairs to their bedroom, ready to put the day behind them and recharge for whatever challenges awaited them tomorrow.

Wesley and Lucy quietly made their way upstairs, the house now peaceful and still. As they reached the nursery, Wesley gently pushed the door open, revealing the soft glow of the nightlight that cast a warm, calming light over the room.

Nora and Mason were fast asleep in their cribs, their tiny chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Wesley smiled at the sight, his heart swelling with love and pride. He walked over to Mason's crib first, gently tucking the blanket around him. "Sleep tight, little man," he whispered, brushing a hand over Mason's downy hair.

Lucy moved to Nora's crib, leaning down to place a tender kiss on her daughter's forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby girl," she murmured, smoothing the blanket over Nora's small form.

They stood there for a moment, side by side, watching their twins sleep. The quiet, the warmth of the room, and the sheer innocence of their children filled them both with a sense of peace.

Wesley wrapped an arm around Lucy's waist, pulling her close as they gazed down at their children. "We're really lucky, you know," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion.

Lucy nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. "We are. They're perfect."

After a few more moments of soaking in the quiet and the love that filled the room, they reluctantly pulled themselves away, knowing it was time to get some rest themselves. Wesley placed a final, gentle kiss on Nora's head, while Lucy did the same for Mason.

They quietly exited the nursery, closing the door behind them with a soft click. As they headed to their bedroom, Wesley kept his arm around Lucy, holding her close as they made their way down the hallway. "Ready for bed?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

Lucy nodded a contented smile on her face. "Yeah, I think we've both earned it."

With a final glance back toward the nursery, they slipped into their bedroom, ready to rest and recharge, knowing that they'd wake up to another day filled with the joys and challenges of parenthood.

The next day

At the station

The next day, Wesley and Lucy were at the gear station, getting ready to go on patrol. The atmosphere was tense, the pressure of the checklist weighing heavily on Lucy.

Lucy sighed in frustration as she strapped on her gear. "I should just give up. There's no way we're going to check six boxes in one day."

Wesley, already suited up, gave her a determined look. "I'm not training a quitter, Boot. We fight until the bell rings. There's no other way."

Lucy threw the strap of her bag over her shoulder, still feeling the weight of the challenge ahead. Just then, Dispatch crackled over the radio, "7-Adam-100, do you still need a destruction of city property?"

Wesley grabbed his radio, finishing up his paperwork with a quick flourish. "Roger that," he replied.

Dispatch continued, "911 just got a call. Two blocks over from Wilshire and Pine. A single car accident while driving on the sidewalk."

Wesley's eyes met Lucy's, a spark of hope igniting. "What'd I tell you? We're still in this."

He quickly grabbed the radio again. "7-Adam-100, show us responding."

Lucy, her spirits lifted by Wesley's encouragement, grabbed the shotguns and hurried after him. They raced to their patrol car, ready to tackle whatever the day threw at them.

Later

Wesley and Lucy pulled up to the scene of the crash and parked behind the damaged car. The situation looked chaotic, but Lucy remained focused. She grabbed the radio and called in, "Control, 7-Adam-100, can you run plate 6-Paul-Charlie-Ida-410?"

They got out of the patrol car and approached a woman standing near the wreck. Lucy asked, "Ma'am, were you driving this vehicle?"

The woman hesitated, looking disoriented. "Yeah. No."

Wesley glanced at the damage and nodded. "Destruction of city property."

Lucy gave a small smile, turning to Wesley. "That's one more box checked."

Dispatch crackled through the radio, "5-Paul-Charlie-Ida-410 just reported 10-8-51. RP says his girlfriend took his car without permission 20 minutes ago."

The woman's eyes widened in anger. "That bastard!"

Wesley smirked and added, "And grand theft auto brings your total to three. It's your lucky day, Boot."

Suddenly, the woman grabbed a nearby scooter—the kind you push with your feet—and took off down the sidewalk.

"Hey! Stop!" shouted a passerby.

In her haste, the woman lost control and crashed into a fire hydrant, sending water spraying everywhere as she tumbled to the ground.

Wesley stifled a laugh and said, "And that's technically a carjacking. The scooter has a motor, so it counts."

Lucy and Wesley quickly walked over to her, and Lucy said firmly, "Ma'am, do not attempt to run away again. What's your name?"

The woman, clearly dazed, mumbled, "Alexander Hamilton."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "False ID to an officer brings us to five. I'm going to need to see your driver's license, please."

In a final act of defiance, the woman tossed the scooter at Wesley's feet, narrowly missing him.

Lucy smirked. "Assault on a police officer. That's six."

The woman then staggered backward, colliding with a street sign before collapsing to the ground.

Wesley nodded in approval. "Not bad, Officer Chen. Go get her."

Lucy walked over and, with practiced efficiency, placed the woman in handcuffs.

Back at the station

Back at the station, Wesley was determined as he made his way to find Lucy after securing permission from Grey for overtime.

He spotted her by the gear station, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Wesley walked over and said, "What the hell are you doing, Boot? You're still one shy on your checklist."

Lucy sighed, "I—It's too late. Shift's over."

Wesley shook his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Shift's over when we punch out, and we're not punching out until we get you a meth possession. Grey approved the OT. Let's go."

Without waiting for a response, he headed towards the patrol car. Lucy exchanged a glance with Jackson before quickly following Wesley. She loaded her gear into the back of the patrol car and climbed in beside him.

Wesley started the engine, his focus on the road ahead. "One more box, Lucy. We've got this."

And with that, they took off, ready to find that last checkmark before calling it a night.

After work

As Lucy and Wesley were walking out of the station toward his car, they noticed a figure leaning casually against it.

Wesley squinted and called out, "Can I help you?"

The man turned around, revealing himself to be Brian Wick.

Wesley's expression softened into a mix of surprise and amusement. "Well, well, well... Hey, brother."

Brian grinned. "Brother."

Lucy, intrigued, stepped forward. "I don't believe we've met."

Brian extended his hand with a warm smile. "You must be Lucy Chen. Officer Lopez mentioned you. So, you're my brother's rookie?"

Lucy shook his hand and added with a proud smile, "Yeah. And his girlfriend."

Brian chuckled. "Oof. I'm sorry you have to put up with him."

Lucy laughed, squeezing Wesley's hand. "He's not bad. I love him."

Wesley smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead, his affection clear.

Brian's tone shifted slightly as he said, "Dad wants to see us."

Wesley's smile faded, his demeanor becoming more serious. "No. I'm not seeing Cross."

Brian took a step closer, his voice reassuring. "Come on. I'll be there too. I won't leave you alone with him."

Wesley sighed deeply, his reluctance evident. "Fine. Let's go see this man."

At the detention center

As Wesley, Brian, and Lucy arrived at the detention center, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The sterile, dimly lit hallway seemed to stretch on forever as they walked toward the visitation room. Wesley's jaw tightened with each step, his mind racing with memories he'd rather forget.

When they reached the visitation room, a guard nodded and gestured for them to enter. On the other side of the glass, Cross sat waiting, his expression unreadable.

Wesley took a deep breath and sat down across from him, with Brian and Lucy on either side. Cross's eyes flicked over to Lucy, then back to Wesley.

"Didn't think you'd come," Cross said, his voice rougher than Wesley remembered.

Wesley leaned forward, his voice cold. "I didn't come for you. I came because Brian insisted."

Cross's gaze softened slightly as he looked at Wesley. "You've grown up."

"Cut the crap," Wesley snapped. "Why did you want to see us?"

Cross sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I wanted to see my sons. And to tell you... I'm sorry. For everything."

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "Sorry? After all these years? After what you put me through?"

"I know it's too late to undo the damage," Cross admitted, his voice laced with regret. "But I needed to say it."

Brian looked between his brother and their father, his expression conflicted. "Wes, maybe he means it."

Wesley's anger flared up. "You don't get it, Brian. You weren't the one left with the Fraternity. You weren't the one who had to kill to survive."

Lucy gently placed her hand on Wesley's, grounding him. "Wesley..."

He glanced at her, his eyes softening just a fraction before turning back to Cross. "I'm not the same person I was when you left me. I've made my own life, despite you. But I'll never forgive you for abandoning me."

Cross looked down, the weight of Wesley's words heavy in the room. "I understand."

Wesley locked eyes with Cross, his voice seething with restrained fury. "You know, Mom would be ashamed to have ever been married to you. But then again, I guess we'll never really know, considering she died in prison, covering for your sorry ass."

Brian, trying to diffuse the situation, gently urged, "Yeah, Wes, let's go."

But Wesley wasn't done. His anger had been simmering for years, and now it boiled over. "No, Brian. He wants to act like we're some kind of family now? The man who abandoned me, left you with his brother, and never gave a damn about either of us? Not once did he check on us. Not once! And you think I'm just going to sit here and listen to the crap he's spewing?"

Wesley's words hung in the air, thick with the pain of a lifetime. Cross looked down, unable to meet Wesley's gaze, the weight of his past mistakes bearing down on him. But Wesley didn't need to see anymore.

Wesley's voice trembled with a mix of pain and anger as he said, "You know, I loved you... Dad. But you threw that love right back in my face the moment you abandoned me to the Fraternity."

Cross, his voice heavy with regret, replied, "I love you, kid. Even when I left you, I never stopped."

Wesley's eyes burned with the intensity of years of hurt. "Then why didn't you ever show it?"

Cross hesitated the weight of his choices visible on his face. "I thought I was protecting you, Wesley. I believed that by leaving, I was giving you a chance to be stronger, to survive in a world that was cruel to us both."

Wesley shook his head, his frustration boiling over. "Protecting me? Do you call abandoning your son protection? You left me with killers, with people who turned me into a weapon! I didn't need to be stronger, I needed a father!"

Cross looked down, the guilt apparent in his eyes. "I know I failed you, Wesley. I thought I was doing what was best, but I see now that I was wrong. I didn't know how to be a father. I barely knew how to be a man."

Wesley clenched his fists, trying to rein in his emotions. "You could've come back. You could've tried. But instead, you stayed away, watching from the shadows, letting me drown in the mess you left behind. And now you think you can just waltz back into my life and act like everything's fine?"

Cross's voice softened, almost pleading. "I'm not asking for forgiveness, Wesley. I'm just asking for a chance to make things right, to try and be there now, even if it's too late."

Wesley's anger gave way to a deep, weary sadness. "You don't get to make things right, Cross. Not after everything that's happened. But maybe, just maybe, you can start by being honest for once in your life. Stop pretending like you had a noble reason for what you did. Admit that you were scared, that you were selfish, that you ran because it was easier than facing your responsibilities."

Cross swallowed hard, his eyes meeting Wesley's with a rare sincerity. "You're right. I was scared. I was selfish. I ran because I didn't know how to be the man you needed me to be. And I'll carry that regret for the rest of my life."

Wesley nodded slowly, the anger still simmering but now mixed with a hint of understanding. "I'll never forget what you did, and I'm not sure I'll ever forgive you."

Cross nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek, the weight of his emotions evident.

https://youtu.be/vSYq-JksGFs

Wesley turned away, his heart heavy, but something in him wouldn't let it go. He paused, then looked back at Cross, his voice breaking into song, raw and filled with years of pent-up pain. "Look at all the hurt and pain that you caused. You chose to divide the family for the fame at any cost. Be a man and accept that this is all your fault."

Cross's eyes widened the hurt in them deepening as Wesley's words struck a chord. Wesley continued, his voice steady but laden with sorrow. "Yes, it is, I know it is. You made the good turn into bad. Failed us so much that it's hard to call you dad. You're something like the worst nightmare I've ever had."

Tears welled up in Cross's eyes, threatening to spill as Wesley's words cut through him like a blade.

Wesley's voice rose, the pain turning into anger, into a cry for acknowledgment. "Tell me, how could you be so heartless and selfish? Own up to your responsibility, or am I just left to scream? It hurts like hell that you can't see... that you're a cold, cold man."

In the background, Brian's voice quietly echoed, adding weight to Wesley's declaration, "You're a cold, cold man."

Wesley's voice grew louder, almost defiant. "You ain't my family. How could you treat us this way? You're gonna die alone. 'Cause you're a cold, cold man."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final, as Wesley's voice faded. Cross, overwhelmed by the raw honesty of his son's words, could only stand there, the tears finally spilling down his face. Wesley stared at him, the anger slowly giving way to profound sadness, knowing that nothing could ever truly mend the broken pieces between them.

Wesley spoke, his voice laced with bitterness. "He's so, so cold. You left the love of your life locked down in a cell, all because you wasn't man enough to say you did it. I don't understand how you can live with yourself, but it's alright though."

Then, his voice shifted into a haunting melody, each word carrying the weight of betrayal. "Your judgment's coming, it's long past due. If you live by the sword, you die by it too. You lied on your mother about being alive, just so your fame and street cred wouldn't die."

His words hung in the air, piercing through the silence, as the full depth of Cross's actions echoed back to him.

Wesley sang with a raw, emotional edge. "How could you be so heartless and selfish? Own up to your responsibility, or am I just left to scream? It hurts like that that you can't see... that you're a cold, cold man."

Brian joined in with a somber tone. "I pray that God has mercy on your soul. I hope your money still here when you're old."

Wesley continued passionately. "I won't reap what you owe, even if it means that you're the most hated. You're a cold man. You ain't my family. How could you treat us this way? You're gonna die alone, die alone, die alone. You're a cold, cold man."

Cross, his eyes wet with tears, finally spoke up, his voice trembling but resolute. "Wesley, Brian... I hear you. I know I've failed you both, and I can't change the past. I'm sorry for every choice I made that led us here. I was selfish and thought I could handle everything alone. I know it's too little, too late, but I want you to know I regret every moment I wasn't there for you."

Wesley's anger faltered for a moment, and he looked at Cross, his face a mixture of pain and confusion. "You think saying sorry is enough? You left us to fend for ourselves. We were just kids."

Cross nodded, a deep, weary sigh escaping him. "I know. I know it's not enough. I can't undo the damage I've done, and I don't expect forgiveness. I only hope that you can find a way to move on, to live your lives without this burden hanging over you."

Brian's voice was softer now, his eyes still fixed on Cross. "It's not about forgiveness right now. It's about understanding why. Why you choose fame and power over your family."

Cross looked down, the weight of his actions evident in his posture. "I thought I could have it all. I was wrong. I see that now."

Wesley took a deep breath, his voice breaking with emotion. "You know, Cross, I don't think I can ever truly forgive you. In fact, I know I can't."

Cross's face fell, the hurt evident in his eyes as he looked at Wesley.

Wesley continued, his voice trembling with pain, "You turned me into something I don't even recognize. When I look in the mirror, I see the monster you made me become. I'm this way because of you—because of what you did to me. Leaving me to be molded into a weapon... that's on you."

Cross's tears streamed down his face, his expression a mix of anguish and regret.

Wesley looked at him one last time and said, "Goodbye... Dad."

With a heavy heart, Wesley stood up, took Lucy's hand, and walked out of the visitation room.

Outside

Wesley and Lucy walked silently to his car. As they reached it, Wesley slumped into the driver's seat and buried his face in his hands. The dam finally broke, and tears began to flow uncontrollably.

Lucy quickly moved to the passenger side and opened the door. She climbed in and wrapped her arms around Wesley, holding him tightly. "It's okay," she whispered softly. "Let it out."

Wesley's shoulders shook with each sob, his voice muffled against his hands. "I thought I was done with this. I thought I could be stronger."

Lucy gently stroked his hair and murmured, "You've been incredibly strong. This is just part of the healing process. You're not alone in this."

The warmth of her embrace provided a small comfort amidst the storm of emotions. Wesley gradually calmed, his breathing slowing as he clung to her. "Thank you," he managed to say, his voice rough but filled with gratitude.

Lucy kissed the top of his head. "We'll get through this together. One step at a time."

Wesley took a shuddering breath, pulling back slightly to look at Lucy. His eyes were red and puffy, filled with anguish. "I hate him," he said, his voice raw and trembling. "I hate him."

Lucy tightened her embrace, trying to offer him some solace. "I know," she said softly. "It's okay to feel that way. You've been hurt so much, and it's natural to feel anger."

Wesley's face crumpled in pain as he continued, "He took so much from me. My childhood, my chance to be... just a kid. He made me into a weapon, something I never wanted to be. I hate him for what he did to me, and I hate him for not even trying to make it right."

Lucy brushed away a tear from his cheek, her voice steady and soothing. "It's not your fault. You didn't ask for any of this. What he did to you, doesn't define who you are. You've fought so hard to be a better person, and that's what matters."

Wesley nodded, struggling to compose himself. "I just... I can't believe he's still so indifferent. After everything. I wish I could make him understand the damage he's done."

Lucy's eyes were filled with empathy. "You've already done so much just by facing him and expressing how you feel. You don't need to carry the burden of his actions any longer. It's time to focus on healing and moving forward."

Wesley took a deep, shuddering breath, letting her words sink in. "You're right," he said quietly. "I just need to find a way to let go of this hatred. I can't let it consume me."

Lucy nodded, her eyes filled with support. "And you won't. We'll work through it together. One step at a time."

Wesley managed a weak smile, drawing strength from her presence. "Thank you, Lucy. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled back, her grip on his hand reassuring. "You'll never have to find out. I'm here, and we'll get through this together."

As Wesley began to calm down, Lucy saw an opportunity to lift his spirits. She pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You know," she said, trying to lighten the mood, "I think I might have a way to cheer you up."

Wesley looked at her, puzzled. "Oh? How?"

Lucy grinned and started to hum the tune of "Cold Cold Man." She gave it a playful twist, singing with exaggerated drama, "Tell me how could you be so heartless and selfish? Own up to your responsibility or am I just left to scream?"

Wesley couldn't help but chuckle through his tears. "Seriously? You're singing that now?"

Lucy continued, playfully waving her hands in the air as she sang, "It hurts like hell that you can't see... that you're a cold cold man!"

Wesley laughed despite himself, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "You're ridiculous."

Lucy winked, her voice turning a bit more serious but still light-hearted. "I figure if you can't beat 'em, you might as well out-sing them. And hey, maybe this song will become our new anthem for dealing with tough times."

Wesley smiled, a genuine grin spreading across his face for the first time since they left the prison. "Thanks, Lucy. I needed that."

Lucy finished with a flourish, adding, "Just don't expect me to take this act on the road. I think I'm better off sticking to being your partner and singing in the car."

Wesley shook his head with a laugh. "Deal. Let's get out of here."

Lucy squeezed his hand, her eyes twinkling. "I've got your back, always."

Wesley nodded, feeling a renewed sense of strength from her support. Together, they got into the car, ready to face whatever came next, buoyed by their shared moment of lightness.

As Wesley started the engine, he glanced over at Lucy, his expression still pensive.

"You know," Wesley said, his voice soft but earnest, "even though I push you hard in training, it doesn't make me anything like Cross. I know I can be tough, but it's not out of spite or to turn you into something you're not."

Lucy looked at him with understanding eyes. "Wesley, I know. I see how hard you push yourself and how much you care. You're not like him. You're pushing me because you believe in me and want me to be the best I can be."

Wesley sighed, a mixture of relief and sadness in his eyes. "I just... I don't want to be like him. I don't want to be someone who's only good at causing pain or making people feel worthless."

Lucy reached over and gently squeezed his hand. "You're not. You're the complete opposite. Everything you do, even when you're tough on me, comes from a place of care and wanting to see us all succeed. Cross never cared about anyone but himself. You're nothing like him."

Wesley nodded, appreciating her words. "Thanks, Lucy. It means a lot to hear that."

Lucy smiled reassuringly. "You're welcome. You're a good person, Wesley. Sometimes, it's easy to get lost in the shadows of the past, but I see who you really are. And you're a far cry from the man who left us behind."

Wesley took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the weight lift off his shoulders. "I needed to hear that."

Lucy nodded, her expression warm. "We all need reminders sometimes. And remember, you're not alone in this. We're in it together."

Wesley smiled, his grip on her hand tightening. "I'm grateful for that. Let's get back to work and show the world what we're really about."

Lucy gave him a supportive nod as they drove off, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in the strength of their partnership and Wesley's commitment to being the best version of himself.

To be continued...