Page 94 of Static

I slipped back into Gwen's apartment and cringed when I found her awake and waiting for me on the couch. "Sorry, I was trying not to wake you."

She smiled and shook her head. "It's okay. What's going on?"

I sat next to her and filled her in on what we talked about at church.

"You think the USB is here," she said, voice soft.

That was why I loved her. This woman got me. She understood exactly where my mind went when I realized that if Fremont hadn't found it anywhere else, it had to be here, amongst the things she'd brought with her. I nodded with a grim grin.

"I wouldn't even know where," she said with a shake of her head. "I don't have a USB drive."

Sighing, I glanced over at the kids' doors. "I think I know."

She followed my gaze and frowned.

"Do you mind if I talk to Sean? Alone? I know it's early."

"It's okay," she said. "He'll want to help."

Together we walked into Sean's room and she woke him. He rolled and yawned as she flicked the bedside lamp on. "What's wrong?"

"Hey, Bud, can I talk to you for a few minutes?" I asked. This needed to be delicate. Sean had seen his dad at his worst, but Trent was still his dad. He was already confused and torn up over Trent. I didn't want to make that worse.

"Sure." He sat up in bed, looking from Gwen to me.

"I'll leave you two alone," Gwen said, smoothing out Sean's hair before she left. It was easy to see that she wanted to stay and comfort him, but she also knew he would be safe with me. She was trusting me with her boy, and I was so damn grateful for that.

"You're a smart kid, you know that right? And you've been through a lot. But right now, it's okay to…just be a kid for a bit." I sighed, trying to gather my thoughts so I could make this make sense. "Your dad, before he…lost control. He was spending time around you guys, right?"

Sean frowned at the memory. I wished I could pull him away from that night, the one where he nearly shot his dad trying to protect his mom. "Yeah," he mumbled, shadows flickering through his eyes.

"Before all that, when he first came back, did he, I don't know, bring you or your sister gifts or anything?"

"He brought a bunch of toys and stuff, but I threw them all away after…you know." He stared at his comforter. It had superhero characters on it.

Not good. I didn't blame the kid for chucking everything, but if anything there had the evidence inside it then we were just as screwed as if Fremont had it.

The anger was giving way to something else on his face, guilt.

"Sean, what aren't you telling me? You won't be in any trouble."

Guilt gave way to fear. I waited for him to process his emotions. For him to feel comfortable enough confiding in me. "When Dad first came back, I was really excited. He was…nice...at first. He hadn't gotten mean yet. He was nice to me and Grace and mom for a bit. Like, really fun to be with. Sometimes I pretend that's my real dad. The nice one. That he only got mean because Fremont used mind control on him and turned him into a bad guy. I know it's not true, I know it's stupid."

He kept his face down the whole time, ashamed and afraid. He was plucking at one of the superheroes on the comforter. It was easy to see where he'd come up with the story about his dad. He was a fan of comic books.

I didn't blame him in the least. It was hard to come to grips with the fact that your dad is a douche when you're a kid. I knew from personal experience.

I sat on the bed next to him. I waited until he tipped his chin up, meeting my eyes. "I ever tell you about my dad?"

"No," he said, relieved at the change of subject.

"He was a nasty piece of work. Drank all the time. Used to get drunk and beat me and my mother. I hated his guts. I remember hoping he just never came home. One day, when I was just a little younger than you, I heard him stumbling around the kitchen and making noise. I snuck out of my room and watched him from the stairs, worried he was going to go after my mom.

"He saw me, and I was about to run to my room when he called out to me. His tone was...gentle. Something was different, so I came down the stairs. It turned out that he was sober. It was the first, the only, time that I'd ever seen him sober. And he said to me, 'You need to be better than me. You have it in you to be more than I am.' Shortly after that he died. Drank himself to death.

"As a kid I didn't really understand, but as I got older, I realized he was overcome by some real demons. I never forgave my dad for what he did to us, but I didn't forget that somewhere under there was a man that at least wished he wasn't such a bastard. Somehow, it made a difference. So no, Sean, it's not stupid to think of your dad as the nice version of himself. You may never forgive him, but if he was ever a decent man, even if just for a minute, it's okay to hold on to that. You need to hold onto that. It's how you know that you won't become a demon just like he was. You have to know that something good came from the man that created you."

The understanding and sadness on his face nearly broke my heart in two. I wished I could spare him from this. In the future, I could, but there was nothing I could do about his past. The only thing I could help him do was to move on from it.

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