When Hawk walked back into Sky's room after a quick shower he'd taken, she was asleep.

She lay on the bed on her side, under the floral patterned sheet, hugging the pink unicorn plushie tight against her chest. She was still naked - she'd been too exhausted to even put on her pajamas - and Hawk pulled the sheet up a bit to cover her bare shoulder so that she wouldn't get cold in her sleep.

He picked up his clothes from the floor and got dressed - silently, not to wake her up. He knew she needed the rest - she was still recovering from the head injury, and it had been a long day. First the car wash, then all they had done in the bed.

A smile lingered on Hawk's lips as he pulled a T-shirt on. Better memories, Sky had said. Hell Yeah - now that he looked at her on the bed, he didn't see the blue-faced, dying girl anymore. He saw her as she was, her cheeks rosy, hickies on her neck, her chest rising and falling with peaceful breathing.

This was the way he always wanted to remember her. In the bed, after lovemaking, relaxed, happy, safe.

A part of him wanted to climb back to the bed, to wake her up and kiss her, to maybe have another round of sex—

—but he pushed that thought away. She needed to rest, to heal, to dream. She was beautiful in her sleep.

Hawk pushed his hands into the pockets of his sweats while he watched her - and as his fingers met the gift wrap, he suddenly remembered.

He pulled the small box from his pocket. It was wrapped in shiny, pink paper and it had a bow on top. All girly and pretty, just as Sky was. He had wanted to give this gift to her on the beach after their date, but things had happened and now, here he was, holding the gift in his hands and she was asleep.

Suddenly he felt a bit nervous.

Sure, he had brought her gifts before - the unicorn, the chocolate box, flowers... But this was different. It was meaningful - and it had been expensive too. He was pretty sure Sky would like it, but of course, he couldn't be sure, and—

And he let out a nervous sigh. Maybe it was better this way.

He placed the box on her nightstand so that she would see it when she woke up. For a moment he hesitated, thought about writing a short note to attach to the present, but then didn't. She would know it was from him anyway.

Closing the door behind him as silently as he could, he left the room and made his way into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and picked a can of Coke. Sipping the beverage he leaned to the counter and absentmindedly scratched Napoleon behind the ear while wondering what he was going to do now.

Hawk knew he wasn't supposed to leave Sky alone, and Nicholas was still out. Besides, they hadn't even had dinner yet, and he was starving. His stomach growled as he took another gulp of the Coke. Napoleon meowed at the sound, making Hawk let out a laugh.

"I'm hungry," he said. "What about you?"

The cat meowed again, prancing around the empty food bowl that was on the counter.

"Fine, just give me a sec—"

Hawk opened the cupboard where they kept Napoleon's food, picked up the box of cat food, and poured some into his bowl. Napoleon wasn't a picky cat - he happily started munching the dry flakes. It brought a smile to Hawk's lips.

"Is that good?" He asked. "Cause it looks like dried shit."

Napoleon didn't reply, just kept eating. Hawk took another sip of the Coke, and wondered if he should order some pizza and if he should wake Sky up to eat it—

The front door opened. Hawk was startled - his first instinct was to flee, which was stupid, Nicholas knew he was here with Sky, but still—

"Anyone home?" Nicholas called as he walked in.

"In the kitchen," Hawk replied, and placed the half-empty Coke on the counter.

Nicholas appeared in the doorway. No funny T-shirts this time. He looked smart in his dark jeans and a button-up shirt, and it was only then that Hawk remembered Sky had told him Nicholas had been on a date.

"Where's Sky?" Nicholas asked, leaning on the doorway.

"Upstairs," Hawk replied. "Taking a nap."

"Okay. Is she alright?"

"Just tired," Hawk replied, trying to find something else to talk about since he desperately didn't want Nicholas to go upstairs to check on Sky and find her naked on the bed that reeked of sex. "So, uh, how was your date?"

"It was good. How was yours?"

Hawk opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again, but Nicholas read the look on his face, noticed his heating cheeks, his hair that was still wet after the shower.

"On second thought—" Nicholas added swiftly. "—please tell me nothing."

Hawk swallowed and gave a nod.

"I— I hope it's okay I fed Napoleon. He seemed hungry."

"That's perfectly fine," Nicholas replied. He was still leaning on the doorway, but now his gaze was on the cat that was still parading around the now empty food bowl. "How about you?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Are you hungry? Did you eat already?"

Hawk felt his cheeks heating again. He was pretty sure Nicholas didn't want to know what he had just eaten in Sky's bed—

—not gonna think about that now. Jeez.

He cleared his throat. "I'll just grab something on my way home—"

"Nonsense," Nicholas stated firmly, walking into the kitchen. "We have some leftover lasagna from yesterday. Let me heat it for you."

"You don't have to—" Hawk started, but the loud growling of his stomach interrupted his sentence.

Nicholas let out a laugh. "Take a seat, kid. I'll heat the food."

Hawk did as he was told and pulled himself a chair. To be honest, lasagna sounded a lot better than some fast food he'd grab on his way home - he knew Nicholas was a great cook.

A couple of minutes later Nicholas had heated two portions of the lasagna in the microwave - it turned out that he hadn't eaten either (Hawk wasn't going to ask why he had skipped dinner). The rich smell of melted cheese and tomato sauce filled the kitchen, making Hawk ravenous. Realizing that he hadn't eaten anything since lunch, he stuffed his fork into the lasagna and started stuffing the food into his mouth even before Nicholas had taken his own seat across the table.

"Hungry?" Nicholas arched a brow, as he took his first forkful.

Hawk managed a nod, his mouth too full to form a sentence.

"I thought you were going to eat out with Sky."

He shrugged and swallowed his mouthful. "She was too tired after the car wash."

"How did that go?"

"Great," Hawk replied. "They raised about a thousand bucks."

"Oh, that's wonderful." Nicholas said. "I'm glad to hear it."

Hawk nodded and concentrated on the food. It was amazing, and he had already almost finished the generous portion Nicholas had laid on his plate. He hoped there would be more, and glanced toward the casserole on the counter—

"There is more if you want," Nicholas said, following the direction of Hawk's glance.

"Should we save something for Sky—?" Hawk asked but stood up anyways, and started scooping more food onto his plate.

Nicholas shook his head. "Just finish that if you're hungry. I'll fix something for Sky later."

"If you're sure—"

"It's fine. I'm happy to see you like it."

Hawk didn't protest further. He filled his plate again, heated it in the microwave oven, and ate the second portion as ravenously as the first one. By the time his plate was empty, Nicholas was just finishing his first portion, sweeping the plate clean with a slice of bread.

"Thanks for the food." Hawk said, clearing his throat. "It was really good. I wish we had food like this at home—"

"Oh, but I'm sure your mother is an excellent cook!"

"She is okay," Hawk shrugged. "Not this good, though."

"And your Father? Does he ever cook?"

Hawk looked down at his now empty plate. "No, he doesn't."

He hoped Nicholas wouldn't ask more. He really didn't want to talk about his father - whom he hadn't talked to since the incident in his room weeks ago, that day when Sky had gotten hurt. Dad hadn't tried to talk to him either, so it went both ways. He had barely been home at all - not that Hawk wanted him to be.

Nicholas was silent for a moment, observing him over the table, his dark green eyes suddenly serious.

"Can I ask you a question, Eli?"

"What do you wanna ask?"

A short silence.

"Is everything okay at home?"

Hawk felt his chest tightening. "What do you mean?"

Nicholas shrugged. "With your parents. How are things?"

"You mean my Dad."

"If you say so."

"Well you know my Mom. You know she's awesome."

"She is," Nicholas agreed. And then, after a short silence. "I take it your dad isn't?"

Hawk let out a snort. "Yeah, well. He really isn't. But if you asked him, he would tell you I'm the disappointment."

He hadn't meant to say that, but the words kind of just fell from his lips and now it was too late to take them back. He squared his shoulders and tilted up his chin in a stubborn gesture, and met Nicholas' eyes. He didn't want the other man's pity, and he let that show.

"He said that?" asked Nicholas.

"He says that a lot."

"But... but why?"

Nicholas seemed perplexed, as if he really couldn't understand what Hawk was talking about. It annoyed him. He really didn't want to spell it out loud, so he just shrugged and turned his eyes back to his empty plate. Suddenly the food in his stomach felt like a cold, heavy lump of lead. His foot was nervously tapping the floor under the table, but if that bothered Nicholas, at least he didn't say anything about it.

"I am struggling to understand here," Nicholas said after a short silence. "Why would your father think that you are a disappointment?"

Hawk rolled his eyes and reluctantly pointed at his lip.

"Because."

Nicholas's brows furrowed. "Because of the cleft lip?"

"Well, yeah." Hawk muttered. "Can't really blame him. He wanted a son, but got a freak instead."

An emotion, something like anger flashed on Nicholas' face, and he let out a slow breath. "Eli, that's not—"

"Don't say it's not true," Hawk interrupted. "The hair might work for other people, but this—" he pointed at the hated scar. "— this is all my Dad's ever gonna see when he looks at me."

Nicholas leaned his elbows on the table and looked Hawk straight in the eye. He didn't even glance at the scar on his lip.

"Well, in that case, your father is an idiot."

An incredulous laugh escaped Hawk's lips. "You seriously called my Dad an idiot?"

"I did, and I wouldn't hesitate to do it to his face."

Hawk couldn't help another laugh. "I'd like to see that."

"No, but seriously, Eli. You are a great kid. If your father can't see that, he must be blind. To call you a disappointment..." he shook his head disapprovingly. "You are an exceptionally fine young man. Were you my son, I would tell you that every day."

Were you my son.

Not for the first time, Hawk hoped he had a dad like Nicholas. He was sometimes strict - like when he had kicked Hawk out of the hospital for starting a fight with Demetri, or when he had grounded Sky after the canyon party - but he was always fair, and he was chill and cool and caring. He had forgiven Hawk for being the one who caused Sky to overdose. He hadn't hesitated to give him a second chance, whereas his own dad had never given him even a first one.

Hell, Sometimes Hawk wished Nicholas really was his dad—

— but no, not really, because that would mean that Sky was his sister and that would be wrong and gross in so many ways that he immediately pushed that thought off his mind.

"Yeah, well I'm not your son, am I?" Hawk replied, turning his eyes down again.

"No, you're not," Nicholas replied, and stood up. He took their plates and placed them in the sink, reached for an apron that hung from a hook on the wall, and put it on, tying the strings around his waist. "But I still think you are a great kid. And I hope you know it's your dad who is the disappointment, not you."

Hawk didn't say anything to that. His throat felt suddenly tight, his emotions sat heavily on his chest. As good as it felt to hear Nicholas say such things, it also hurt, because he knew it shouldn't have been his girlfriend's dad to tell him that - it should have been his own dad. The black hole in his heart wasn't this easily filled.

Maybe Dad's rejection would have been easier to bear if things had always been like this - but Hawk could still remember the good years, the years when he'd been just a kid, the years when Dad had still wanted to try to be a family, when there had still been hope that maybe the scar would fade, maybe the surgeries would make it invisible, that maybe when he grew up he would be the kid dad had always wished for - the kid with a normal face and a normal mind, the kid who would play football and baseball in the school teams, the kid who would have lots of cool friends, the kid who would become the fucking prom King, the kid Dad would have been proud to call his son.

But Eli had never been that kid. And the hope that he would one day become the boy his Dad had wished for, had diminished by the year. The final blow had probably been the diagnosis the specialist had given him when he'd been ten. That he was on the spectrum.

After that Dad had pretty much given up.

Hawk didn't blame him.

He knew he had been a pathetic, autistic nerd. No wonder he hadn't had any friends or a girlfriend - he had been such a fucking loser that even his dad had been disgusted by his presence.

But a small part of Hawk secretly hoped that when he had flipped the script, Dad would have noticed, that he would have realized he wasn't that nerd anymore, that he was now tough, confident, badass - that maybe he still wasn't the son Dad had hoped for, but at least he was someone—

No such luck.

It was pretty clear to Hawk now, that no matter the color or shape of his mohawk, Dad would only ever see the scar when he looked at him. He would never be good enough for his dad.

That hurt so easily turned to anger. It made Hawk wish he could go back to the dojo, could hit something, anything, until his muscles burnt, his knuckles bled and he didn't feel anything at all.

Maybe Nicholas noticed Hawk's mood, for he didn't say more about the subject. He washed their plates and after a short while Hawk stood up to help with the dishes. He took a towel and dried the plates, then placed them back into the cupboard. They worked in silence, as naturally as if they were indeed family, and for a moment Hawk let himself imagine just that. It made the anger and hurt subside, they were now mere shadows that lurked under the surface.

"You want an espresso? Or are you in a hurry to go home?" Nicholas asked when they had finished cleaning up the kitchen.

Hawk glanced at the clock on the wall. It was barely 8 pm - he had time. He had told Mom he was on a date with Sky, and thus Mom would have eaten dinner already, and Dad—

Well, he wasn't going to think about Dad now.

"I could have a coffee, yeah."

Nicholas grinned and tapped him on the shoulder. "Great. I also have some pecan pie—"

And soon the smell of freshly ground coffee filled the kitchen. While waiting for the espresso, Hawk thought about Sky, how she was peacefully sleeping in her bed, her hair a fiery halo around her face. He thought about the tone of her voice when she told him she loved him. He thought about the gift she would find on her nightstand when she woke up, how happy she would be, how she would smile when she opened the box and saw what he had gotten her.

He felt a smile touching his lips.

He knew he was incredibly lucky to have Sky back - and they really were back together now, not just starting over. He had fucking made love to her tonight. It had been amazing, so fucking amazing that it still made him high-headed.

He didn't give a shit about his stupid dad, he didn't give a shit about the world. As long as he had Sky, he had everything he could ever wish for.

"Sugar?" Nicholas asked, and Hawk stumbled out of his dreams, back into the small, cozy kitchen.

"Umm, no thanks—"

"There you go," Nicholas said and placed the tiny espresso cup on the table in front of Hawk.

They drank the coffee and Hawk ate a piece of pecan pie, and then another. Nicholas was easy to talk to - they talked about school and karate and Sky, about their trip to Italy and about 'The Wonders of the World' that would air in a couple of months, and neither of them mentioned Hawk's dad again.

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