Kyle stood up along with that pull.

It wasn't as if he couldn't resist it, as Patrick wasn't really pulling that hard … well, okay, he was, but not enough that Kyle couldn't stop it.

Kyle had come with one intention.

To bury the hatchet.

In order to truly fight against those hidden enemies, he needed his father.

After all, Smith Industries wasn't just about him. He was the Heir, but his father was the current Leader.

More importantly, Patrick is his biological father.

So Kyle steeled himself, closing his eyes as he prepared himself for a punch or something.

Kyle acknowledged that his disappearing act wasn't commendable. It was hardly the act of a filial son.

No matter how angry he was, no matter how aggrieved he felt - no matter the reason … what he had done was undeniably bad.

Patrick watched as his son just stood there, not resisting and not flinching as he grabbed his collar.

His grip on the shirt became stronger, his frustration at seeing his son's submissive reaction hitting him so deeply that he was subconsciously choking Kyle.

Shifu's words went through his mind again.

'You were raising a robot'

Was his normally stoic, rebellious son really a robot?

Why was he submitting himself right now, as if he had given up?

Why was his reaction so … so much like what he had been demanding of him all along?

Patrick found he didn't like this Kyle.

Where was that streak of fire in his eyes? Where was that spark?

The old Kyle would never have even said those words, 'I'm sorry'.

Or would he?

Patrick didn't really know his own son but he certainly didn't like the one in front of him right now.

It felt strange.

It was only when he began to see the red line forming around the neck that he realised what he was doing.

Even then, Kyle did not react?

Patrick let go and punched him on the chest.

"You stupid boy," he rasped, "Where is your smart mouth now, huh?"

The punch had been light, hardly a tap but it made Kyle open his eyes to look at his father. He could see the anguish in them, and guilt assailed his heart.

He never meant to hurt his father.

He … just didn't know how to act around him.

When he had been reborn, he had the soul of a sheltered woman. He had not been comfortable in being so open with the opposite sex - even though he was a boy in this life.

His own experience with his father, and seeing how his spouse had been with their children, he took it that the man of the house was always cold and firm with their sons. They would not openly show affection (if they had any) and expected them to be the man of the household.

They were strict and expected the son to follow.

So, Kyle acted accordingly.

Patrick never did do anything as well to dispel that notion in him, and was so strict with his training and teachings.

Thus, Kyle always kept his distance with his biological father.

He never felt any connection to him in any way. He was simply the 'man of the household' that he had to obey .. which he did, so long as it didn't touch his bottom line: his kids.

Right now, though, seeing that raw emotion in Patrick's face, Kyle realised for the first time that Patrick was not as unfeeling as he thought he was.

Before Kyle's mind could process this, Patrick hugged him.

Kyle's mind went blank.

Patrick held onto his own son, for the first time, and squeezed hard.

He didn't care that Kyle didn't reciprocate.

All he wanted was to hold his son.

Then, amazingly, he felt his son return the hug and his mind went blank.

So there it was.

Two men whose minds were blank, just hugging each other.

After what seemed like ages, they broke apart.

Patrick looked at his son and his son looked back at him.

Without a word, Patrick stepped back and started folding his long sleeve shirt up to his elbows. Kyle raised an eyebrow, realising what Patrick was doing.

He loosened his shoulders and neck, then tilted his head to the right and left.

Father and son looked at each, both sporting identical smirks on their faces.

"You know that your actions mean you need to be disciplined," Patrick said solemnly.

"That's only if you're up to it, old man," Kyle retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, the folly of youth," Patrick responded, kicking off his shoes.

"Ah, the fantasies of the elderly," Kyle replied, his smirk getting bigger.

Patrick glided over, throwing a punch at Kyle's face.

Kyle didn't move until the last minute, only moving his head slightly to the left as he then twirled to the right and patted his father on the head.

"Too slow, old man," Kyle taunted as Patrick turned to throw another punch, this time to the gut - which barely missed as Kyle stepped to the side.

When Quentin walked in a few minutes later, he saw a sight that made him rub his eyes.

Kyle had Patrick in a headlock, both on the floor.

"Give up, old man!" Kyle was saying.

Patrick roared, struggling to escape but failed. Finally, in the end, he tapped the floor reluctantly.

Kyle released his father, sitting up as Patrick sat up, too.

Patrick looked at his son, who was hardly breaking a sweat or breathing heavily.

He reached over and ruffled his son's hair.

"Ew, Dad," Kyle protested, smoothing it again.

Patrick laughed and ruffled Kyle's hair again. In retaliation, Kyle messed up Patrick's hair as well.

Both laughed, then Kyle stood up. He looked at his father who was still sitting on the floor, and offered his hand.

Patrick stared at that hand for a while before taking it.

"Welcome home, son," Patrick said as he stood up.

"It's good to be home," Kyle replied.