Can't even begin

Alec's mind is far away in a dream, the sounds around him muffled by the television. Reality seemed just a little bit distorted as he tries to pull himself from sleep. Someone was shaking his arm... someone was talking to him. A woman. A woman was here? No wait, not his dream, in reality. His brain fumbles to recognize Ryan's voice and slowly the fog lifts.

"Boring?" he mumbles sleepily. "I highly doubt that."

For having just being woken from a deep sleep, his movements are quick. Without warning, he grabs Ryan's arm and pulls her over the top of him, rolling over at the same time. Landing on top, straddling her, he tucks his arms around her sides, putting his weight on his elbows. Looking down at her, a groggy smile seeps out. "I don't think you know the meaning of the word boring," he muses.

Leaning down, his lips meet hers for a long, passionate kiss before he pulls back again, still pinning her with his own weight. "I thought you were never going to come." He yawns and lets his head fall onto her shoulder, nuzzling in. "I didn't do anything all day," he mutters. "I shouldn't be tired. But you're an awfully nice pillow."


Justin yawns and rolls over in bed, glancing at the clock. For once, he didn't care that he'd slept in so late. It was almost ten and very rare that he hadn't been up yet, but he was still feeling a bit lethargic from being sick. He didn't ache quite as badly, but he could tell he wasn't over the flu either. Thankfully, he'd been well enough last night though, that Beth had been able to go home. Dinner had been nice though... he really had enjoyed it. He did like her cooking and the soup had hit the spot, especially after not having been able to eat for several days.

Rolling out of bed, he recalls their conversations the evening before. They'd had some light chat, and even laughed a little. Then he'd explained a little bit more in-depth about things that had been going on with him. It had been easier to express himself than he'd though... perhaps after sharing with her the first time, it had simply broken the ice. Whatever the reason, he was glad she'd been there as a listening ear as he'd talked about Rebecca leaving, his friends' comments and his brother showing up. He'd spent countless hours getting people to talk to him because it was "healthy." Only now was he realizing that he hadn't taken his own advice... until now.

Wandering to the bathroom, Justin starts to brush his teeth. Maybe now that Beth was coming out of her shell, he was gaining that friendship he'd sought out in the beginning but had given up on. Maybe there was a second chance. He couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed her company lately. Spending time with her was... different... peaceful in a way. He didn't push her and she didn't push him. Maybe they'd worked out a pattern that he hadn't even recognized until now.

Finishing up in the bathroom and splashing some water on his face, he dries with a clean towel and continues to let his mind wander. Most of the last few days was coming back to him now. It came in bits and pieces, but his memory was returning. Some of it he didn't like - remembering the nightmares and how emotional he'd been. And some of it was warmer - Beth's tender care.

Justin ambles back to his bedroom to find some clean clothes, then heads to the kitchen. It's only after he's poured himself a glass of juice that he comes to a screeching halt. He blinks. Surely that wasn't a real memory... was it? Had that been a dream? His imagination, surely. He wouldn't have... he couldn't have....

Oh yes he would and yes he could. It was a clear as day now. The one thing he hadn't thought about until now. The one thing he hadn't remembered.

His gut twists a little and he leans on the counter. Even though no one was present, his face was burning. How on earth could he have done something like that? Out of it or not, it had been one of the most stupid things he'd ever done. Maybe he couldn't really be to blame, since he'd been so feverish, but still! How could he have done that?! And poor Beth... oh, surely he had made her uncomfortable, and yet she hadn't said a thing. She probably hadn't wanted to think about it anymore. Bless her for not blaming him, oh, but still!

Justin was mortified. Leaving his juice where it was, he goes to the living room phone. Glancing at one of the sticky notes on the table, he dials, closing his eyes as he hears the ringing on the other end. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he had to say something. There was no way he could wait and sit on this all day. She was planning on coming back over for supper tonight to check on him... he couldn't do this face-to-face. He wouldn't care if he were to be called a coward - maybe he was, but he'd chosen the phone and that's the way it-

Beth's answer makes him freeze. He stands dumbly in the middle of the living room, taking way too long to respond. "Um... this... it's Justin." He could kick himself. "Listen, I um... I just wanted to call and... because..." He racks his brain. He sounded like an idiot. Change that. He WAS an idiot.

He cringes, eyes closed, and puts a hand to his head, pacing in a little circle. "Beth, I am so sorry." He lets out the breath he'd been holding. "I woke up this morning and... and I was remembering things and it was all coming back to me and... and I remembered what I did and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Opening his eyes again, he continues to pace. "Kissing you was totally inappropriate on my part and I am truly mortified." Aside from the fact that he remembered how soft and warm it had been... He shakes his head to keep himself on track. "I put you in an awful position and it was all my fault, and I can't believe you didn't say anything - though I'm grateful, I'll admit, but..."

He stops, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he ends lamely.


Still glaring at the floor when Herb returns to the kitchen, Mackenzie peeks out of the corner of her eye, spotting the peculiar objects. The scarf looked awfully soft and warm... and the ball was intriguing. She'd never heard of a stress ball before.

Her gaze slowly rises to Herb's eyes and she stares at him for a moment as if wondering if there were any strings attached to these things. Distracted from her anger, she hesitates, then reaches out and slowly pulls the scarf towards herself. It really was soft, and she holds it to her cheek. "I like green," she mentions quietly. Reaching for the ball next, she fingers it for a moment before testing it out with a a squeeze. It... did feel better than breaking something.

Her eyes circle around then end up on Herb again, her anger seeming to have subsided. "Thank you." Even a little smile emerges at the corners of her mouth.

Carson was thankful too, and shows it by a nod of thanks to Herb. At least the older man had some experience under his belt when dealing with a little girl. Carson had nothing to go on but instincts and they didn't always seem to be around when he wanted them.

Giving Mackenzie a few more minutes to cool down, he speaks to her again. He would just as soon let her be for a while longer, but right now, the most important thing was returning her to her family before this got out of hand. "What hotel is your family at?" he asks mildly.

No response.

"Well... if you're not gonna tell me, I have no choice but to call the police. Then you'll be in even more trouble, and so will I." He turns towards the telephone.

"They're at the Holiday Inn."

Carson hides his look of relief. "What's your dad's name?"

"He's not my dad."

"What's his name?"

She sets her jaw stubbornly and toys with the ball in her hand.

Carson sets his hands on the table and lowers his face to her level. "I don't understand why you won't tell me. Is it because you think you'll get to stay with me longer if I can't find your family?"

She didn't have to answer him. The look on her face revealed that he'd discovered the truth.

"You can't stay... not like this. I'm sorry. The police will have to take you back." He turns to the phone again.

"Ken Truman," Mackenzie mumbles. "Ken and Jeanette."

"Thank you." Carson sets a hand on her shoulder and is surprised that she doesn't shrug it off. Torn between wanting to return her to her family, and wanting to give in to his fatherly feelings, he reaches for the phone book. Finding the Holiday Inn was easy. Calling was hard. He dials six of the seven numbers before hanging up. There was more than one way to skin a cat.

"Herb... would you mind holding down the fort for just a little while? I'm gonna take her to her parents." He didn't like leaving Herb in a lurch, but if everything went okay, he'd be back before the dinner rush.

Mackenzie doesn't argue about leaving, but she does make sure her scarf is wrapped securely around her neck and the ball tucked safely in her pocket. She doesn't say anything to Herb as they leave the kitchen, but she does give him one last look, locking eyes with him for just a moment.

...The sky was already starting to grow dim as Carson drives across town. Mackenzie sits quietly in the passenger seat, seeming to be disinterested in the scenery. "Why didn't you call the police?"

"Because I wanted to show that I was innocent. If I would have kidnapped you, would I bring you back? Probably not. So this way, I don't get into trouble and... you don't have to go with the police." He gives her a sidelong glance. "And I thought this would give us a few extra minutes to talk."

Mackenzie stares at the car in front of them to keep herself from looking at Carson. "About what?"

"About how you keep saying I don't want to see you."

"Well, it's true, isn't it?"

He sighs. "You surprised me, I'll admit. And I'll also tell you that I never intended to be a father... at least not like this. But that doesn't mean that I'd turn you way or not talk to you or refuse to see you. Can you understand that?"

She shrugs. "Then how come you sent me away the last time?"

It was a complicated subject, but if she was grown up enough to run away and come looking for him, then Carson would try explaining. "This time is just like last time in that you may be my daughter, but you don't belong to me. You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you have a family that adopted you and that means you belong to them now. My blood may run through your veins, but that's where it stops. You may not like it - you may even hate it. But sometime in life we just have to accept things the way they are and learn to be happy even if we don't have everything we want." Carson steers his car into the hotel parking lot and finds a space a little ways from the door. Cutting the engine, he shifts in his seat to face Mackenzie. "You ready?"

"No."

"What do I gotta do, Mac?"

She turns to look back at him, longing in her eyes. "Love me?"

Carson's heart broke just a little bit more, and he struggles not to let it show. Reaching over, he takes the same unruly strand of hair to tuck it behind her hair. Was it love he felt for this child? His child? This child that was a part of him? Was it love that was tearing him apart inside? "I do," he whispers. "But sometimes love doesn't change our circumstances."

Her eyes fill with tears again. Looking down, it's only now that she notices the ring on his left hand. Her gaze snaps back up again, causing one of the tears to run down her face. But it was surprise she showed, that had quickly replaced the sadness. "You're married?"

He nods, grinning.

"To who?"

Carson smirks and rolls his eyes. "Well, who do you think?"

For the first time in hours, Mackenzie breaks into a smile. "Misty?"

"Of course."

Then her face falls again. "I didn't even get to see her."

Sighing, Carson gets out of the car and goes around to her side, opening the passenger door too. "Come on. Your parents are probably worried sick."

And they were. As soon as Carson enters the hotel foyer with Mackenzie, a woman rushes forward with outstretched arms, pulling the little girl in for a tight hug as her own tears are shed. A man was right behind her, a mix of relief and worry written all over his face. "Thank God," he breathes. Both the man and wife kneel down and bombard Mackenzie with questions, making sure she's okay while the mother kisses her on her cheeks several times and wipes off some dirt smudges with a kleenex.

For a few minutes, Carson is ignored. He wonders if he should just turn and leave, but when he starts to, he's stopped.

"Wait." The man steps in front of him. "We can't thank you enough. Where did you find her?"

Carson fiddles with his keys. He knew the truth was best. "Mr. Truman, my name is Carson Banks."

It takes a moment, but then the recognition flickers in Ken's eyes and his jaw drops. "Oh, I should have known." He closes his eyes, showing how stupid he felt. "I knew you lived in Nevada but I didn't know where. When Mackenzie went missing, I didn't even think she might have gone looking for you."

Carson grins a little. "It's okay. She's safe now and... I'll leave you guys alone."

Ken's surprise lingers. "You're... not upset?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Carson chuckles. "But what good would yelling do?" He shrugs. "There's not much more I can do. I wish there was but... I guess from here on out it's between you and Mac."

"Mac." Ken grins. "She said you called her that."

"Talks about me, ay?"

"Almost every day." Ken sighs. "And every time she does, she asks to come see you."

"I'm sorry... that it's rough, I mean."

Ken cocks his head, curious. "You're... different than I expected."

Carson chuckles again. "I'm not surprised. Especially if you got your information from Heather Jones."

Ken grimaces sheepishly. "Yeah, well... I knew it couldn't be all true if Mackenzie was that bull-headed about seeing you again."

"I won't say it was all a lie," Carson admits. "I have an awful lot of regrets. But... putting Mac in harm's way is the last thing I want to do. I may not be in a position to care for her as a father should but..."

Ken follows Carson's gaze to where Jeanette was now sitting with Mackenzie on the foyer couch. "But you care," he finishes.

"Yeah, I guess I do." Carson takes a deep breath and looks to the door. "I should be going. Unless you wanted me to talk to the police."

"No... no." Ken shakes his head. "We did call them, but I'll let them know she came back. I... don't think it will be necessary to mention your name."

Impressed, Carson can only be thankful to God that Ken was such and understanding man. He could tell that Mackenzie was in a good home. He had questions... lots of questions about why Mackenzie seemed so much colder than the last time they'd met, especially with a family like this. But whether he liked it or not, it was none of his business.

He extends his hand. "Thank you."

"No. Thank you." Ken shakes his hand firmly.

As Carson turns to leave again though, Mackenzie slips off the couch and comes running up behind him. Hearing her, Carson stops and turns, a little surprised that she wasn't finished yet. He looks down at her, waiting for an explanation.

Biting her lip, Mackenzie moves closer and wraps her arms around his waist. "Don't go," she begs softly.

Carson sighs and looks at Ken then Jeanette, both of whom seem touched and concerned. He glances down again and rubs Mackenzie's shoulders. "I have to. Remember?" He lifts her chin. "Banks' don't let any situation get the best of them. I know you can be strong." And prying himself away, he backs to the door, ensuring she doesn't follow before he's gone.

Ken reaches for Mackenzie from behind, and holds her against him lovingly. "I think we got a lot to talk about, kiddo."

She sighs and looks up at him. "I guess I'm in trouble, huh?"

"Oh... yeah, a bit. But the thing I'm most worried about is that you're okay."

Mackenzie glances back to the door as fresh tears form. 'Banks' don't let any situation get the best of them.' "I guess I have to be." Turning around, she buries her face against him as she cries.

He gently picks her up and cradles her in his arms to carry her to their room, joined by his wife. They did have a lot to talk about, and the family discussion would last long into the evening.


Driving back to the restaurant, Carson turns up the radio as loudly as he could stand it. An awful craving had started and he knew he needed to go straight back to Mom and Pop's, lest he make a stop he'd regret. But his mind just wouldn't leave him alone.

It was better this way, right? He'd done the right thing? Mackenzie obviously had a loving family, and that was all that mattered, right? But why had he been put in this position again? Why had he been forced to interact with his daughter, reigniting those unwanted feelings?

Phoning Misty as he drove, he gives her the brief version, letting her know he'd fill her in later, but for now, there hadn't been any trouble and she needn't worry.

By the time he got back to the restaurant, he was no closer to any answers to his questions. His mind wasn't in the game anymore though, and the evening was a disaster in the kitchen. He messed up several orders, dropped a pan of spaghetti sauce on the floor, and spilled a pan of dishwater, after which he slipped and fell, pulling something in his back. While he was glad Herb was there to lend a hand, he wasn't too thrilled that the older man saw all his bungles.

Leaning on the sink, he stares down into the dishwater, letting a pan soak. His back hurt and head hurt from his fall, his heart hurt, and he wanted a drink so badly he was almost afraid to leave. By himself. He knew he needed to call Misty and tell her exactly when he was leaving so she'd know when he was supposed to be home, but he hadn't yet.

Watching the dishwater bubbles gradually pop one by one, he wonders what Herb must think of all this. Here Carson was, supposedly responsible and capable enough to run the restaurant, and then days like this happened. Was he really going in the right direction?