“God damn it!” Max growled out as the papers flew off the desk, turning his head to look at the open window where the gust of cool autumn air had come from. Leaving the papers where they laid on the floor, he crossed the few feet between the desk and the window, grabbing a hold of the top and slamming it down, cutting off the wind and smell of city air. Sighing, leaning forward and shutting his eyes a few moments. “Why do I keep doing this…” he mutters aloud, not to anyone in particular, standing alone in the room. He had opened the window, knowing what could happen from the action, and he had no one to blame for it than himself. There were a lot of things he had no one to blame on but himself in these past few months. Flexing his wrists and pushing off the windowsill, he takes a few steps back before turning on his heel to face the desk. Stopping again, he can’t help but look around the room, his room, their room. It wasn’t anything luxurious, a bed with a night stand to the right side, a desk, and the single window with a view of the street. But he didn’t see a simple bed room, seeming dazed as all of the memories they had shared in that room flashed across his mind. Shaking his head to rid himself of them, he steps forward, bending down and plucking up the several pieces of paper that he had dropped. Straightening back up once they are in hand, knees popping and back cracking, he leans back to stretch before going over to the desk and scooting back in. Setting the papers down, he begins separating them. One was a statement for the new bank account he had created, half of the money that had been taken with him when he ‘retired’ and a little more from other endeavors printed on it. The next was a statement of their, well, now it was only her bank account. He had left her a little more than half of the money he had made and half of the money he had procured from the bail deposits as well. As he sets those aside, he looks down and picks up the third one, a letter he had written a little more than half an hour ago. As his eyes scan over the words scribbled out onto it, his blank expression slowly turns to one of sadness.

"I can’t begin to try to apologize for all the wrongs I did you. I gave you my heart, but I failed to give you what you also deserved. I can only leave you with this; I love you, and I am truly sorry. I will always be there for you and the children, and I will do whatever is needed for you to be happy, even if that means never speaking to you again. I have left you your fair share of the assets in our account and a few things in the safe as well. Please let your daughters know that I do love them, even if Im not the real father, and that I’m sorry I messed things up for us all. Check the safe after you read this. I am truly sorry it turned out like this.
I love you,
Max”
As he reads the letter one last time, his eyes linger on each “I love you”. Knowing in the back of his mind that it will likely be the last time he is ever able to say those words to her, even in a letter. Folding the paper up, he raises it to his lips and presses them to it with his eyes closed. It was all he could do at this point; he knew he would not be able to hold her, to kiss her ever again. Tucking the letter into an envelope, he seals it and sets it aside. Leaning back into the chair with a deep sigh, he runs his hand over his face. Suddenly he did something he had thought would never happen, warm droplets fell onto his cheeks and began running down as he cried. It began slowly, but he was soon leaned forward onto his arms, silently crying into his sleeves. Eventually his quiet moans and sobs will cease, one hand moves. Fingers curling into fists as he raises it then slams it down, causing a loud bang to fill the room for a moment. Raising his head shortly afterwards, blinking away the moisture that still remained, he will raise the same fist to angrily wipe at his face. Shaking his head rapidly and taking in a deep breath. “Daddy? Are you okay?” a small voice calls out, causing Max to straighten up and jump a little. Looking behind him, a crease of light in the door where a small, familiar head poked through. Using his sleeve to dry his face he sniffs and offers the boy a weak smile. “Yeah Blake, I’m alright…” the boy knew what was happening, and yet was somehow taking this a whole lot better than his father was right now. Quickly standing up to his feet, the chair creaking as it slides along the hard wood floor, he grabs a hold of the letter, the papers, and a duffle bag containing a few parting gifts, he may have messed up badly, but Max wasn’t going to leave her and his step daughters with nothing, and without the tools to for her to protect them with. As he moves over to the closet safe that he had recently installed, he kneels down and tucks the bag inside, along with the bank statement. Crumbling up his own statement and tucking it in a pocket, he will rise to his feet, shaking visibly as he shuts the safe. Letter still in hand, he will glance over to Blake, who still stood by the door. “You got your stuff bud?” he murmurs quietly, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

The boy will offer a slow nod; the expression he wore was one of confusion, yet also of quiet understanding. “Yup, its all at the front door like you told me to… Do we really have to go?” the question coming out with a hint of nerves showing, the boy didn’t normally question his father’s decisions. His father will give another sigh, looking down at his feet as tears threaten his eyes yet again. “No… I’m the only one who needs to go Blake. I can’t ask you to leave your mother, when you’ve already left your blood one… If you want to stay Blake, stay, I won’t ask you to pay for my fuck ups” the curse word not making him flinch for doing it in front of the boy. He wasn’t thinking about filtering things right now, he just felt numb. Slowly raising his eyes to meet the blues of his boy, he waits for an answer. The young boy will frown for a moment, looking away as he tries not to meet his father’s gaze, then his head snaps back up and nods quickly “I wanna go with you dad, once a MacTavish, always a MacTavish” a smile present on the child’s face that filled Max’s heart with pride, and heartache at the same time. He tucks the envelope in his back pocket and approaches his son, kneeling and placing a hand on each shoulder. “Thank you Blake…” is all he can bring himself to say right now. The boy nods slowly and keeps offering that smile of his, but his expression quickly turns to one of confusion “So why doesn’t mommy love us anymore?” he will question after a moment. It sends a pang of hurt throughout Max’s body, focused on his heart. “She still loves you Blake, she still loves you with all of her heart… I know that” he doesn’t say the same for himself, for he doesn’t have a right to say it when he knows it isn’t true. But his son, the intellectual that he was, wasn’t fooled “What about you dad?” the boy asks with a tilt of his head. Inhaling sharply through his nose, Max will slowly shake his head “I don’t deserve it anymore, I messed up Blake, its as simple as that” his tone very hollow as he says all of this, knowing it to be true even though he wishes it weren’t. “No more questions right now…” he will eventually mutter out, knowing that if he was forced to answer again he may very well break down again, something he refused to do in front of his son. “We can talk more on the drive to Florida.” Standing up straight and looking at the boy, messing up his hair with a pat to the head. At the mention of Florida, Blake tilts his head and looks up “Why Florida?” he will ask as he watches his father moving out the bedroom door. The man pauses and looks back and offers a shrug “We’re gonna go do some stuff.. ya know.. Disney Land, Universal Studios, fishing, that sort of thing.” At the mention of all these activities, Blake’s face lights up and he follows his father out while the man holds open the door. Pausing to look around the room one last time before letting it quietly shut behind him. As Blake heads for the stair case, Max will walk much slower, looking around the room with a look of sadness and heart ache on his features, so many memories, so many things. Looking to the staircase to the roof hurt more than the bedroom. They had loved up their, caressed up there, and argued up there; even the bad memories of that argument on the rooftop would be treasured to him. Slowly realizing, he needed to accept things, accept this may likely be the last time he stands in any of these places again. Tempted to go and stand on the roof one last time, he will shake his head and keep walking, knowing that by going up there, he would never be able to bring himself to come back down. Passing through the living room, leaving everything untouched and taking nothing, he will stand at the top of the stairs. The image of his step daughter crying during the fire coming into his mind, the burn scars on his hand as evidence. For all he cared, those steps were to the end of his life, all of the joy he had with his family. Taking a final look around the floor, he blinks back the tears forming in his eyes yet again.

Pausing a moment, having locked the bolt to the door upstairs so she wouldn’t come back to a trashed and robbed home, he will open the register and pull two items from his pocket; his copies of the keys, to both the safe and the one to the doors of the store. The second item is his letter, looking at the envelope, knowing every word inside of it, the last times he would be able to tell her he loved her lay inside. Kissing it once again, he placed it inside and shut the register. The click of it as the register automatically locked was like a gun shot to him, and yet more painful still. Backing away and sagging against the wall, he looks over to Blake outside waiting and nods. After pushing off and following out the door, he looks around the store and the street. Every part of this building held memories for him, good and bad, but all ones that would stick with him forever. As he holds the door open, knowing it would lock him out as soon as it closed, he will reach for the light switch but pause as his son’s voice came to his ears again. “Is this the end dad?” the question amazed him, reminding him of how brilliant his son could be. Slowly shaking his head he answer, voice breaking a little, causing him to try again “Yes Blake, this is the end of this chapter of our lives..” heart ache and sadness present in his tone. Meeting his sons gaze once again, he will continue “But, it’s also a new beginning…” he says. Max didn’t want to leave this life behind, but he knew he had no choice, and he knew people still depended on him. The thought brings some light into the dark abyss his mind was in right now, warmth in this infinite cold. Flicking the switch off and consuming the store in darkness, he lets the door shut and walks along side Blake, both pulling suitcases, neither of them looking back.