TWENTY-FOUR

I'm sorry, what?

What?

Zach stared. He blinked. He stared some more. He squinted. The silence remained as Zach tried to make sense of what this psycho had said. The man's voice looped in his head. Over and over again, he heard those words.

'To see if I'm your father.'

Zach started laughing. It was borderline derangement, disturbing even himself. There was no happiness in his laughter; there was no joy. There was only insanity and there was no stopping it. Incredulity flooded through his mind.

Falcon suspects he's my father?

Oh, hell, no. No, this wasn't happening. This had to be a bad dream – a horrible, horrible, living nightmare. This was insanity at its finest. The man believed, on some weird basis, that he could possibly be his father? Really? No reasonable person would believe that… unless…

Oh, no, no, no, this wasn't happening. This had to be a lie. This was a joke, right? The man was joking. Ha. Ha. So funny – straight out of the movies funny. It was so hilarious, Zach couldn't stop laughing.

Oh, please, tell me this isn't happening!

The laughter faded into mocking derision.

"Is this a joke?" cried Zach, his deranged hysteria spilling into his tone. "Are you trying to be funny?" Venom poured through his voice. "You had better find a different profession, then, because you suck at this!"

The man's mouth twitched in amusement.

"Don't you dare laugh!" shouted Zach, slicing his hand through the air. "My parents are Abigail and Michael Bennet."

Emotion flashed through Hawke's eyes. He swallowed; an Adam's apple bobbed. "Abigail Doyle," he whispered. "She was a vibrant, beautiful woman. I knew her very well."

Doyle…

He knew her maiden name. This man knew her maiden name. Zach hadn't told him that. He had to have done his research because there was no way—no, this isn't happening—no way he actually knew her in person.

"How dare you!" shouted Zach. "You do not get to do this to me. If you think you're going to mess with my mind through my mother, you've got another thing coming."

"This isn't a joke," said Hawke, his expression darkening. "I knew Abigail Doyle. Fiery red hair, strong Irish accent, gentle and kind – yet spoke her mind all the time, it would drive you crazy. She was a nurse at the… Well, I met her as a nurse."

'I decided to give up being a nurse.'

'But why, Mom?'

'Because I wanted to be here for you, my darling.'

"Anyone could find that out!" shouted Zach; fear clamped onto his throat. "You're lying!"

"No, I knew her," said Hawke, his tone firm. "That's not a lie."

"You lied before about that," said Zach with a low hiss, hating how calm the man was. How dare he. How dare he. "You said you didn't know her and now you're saying you do? Which is it?! Why should I believe you now? Why are you trying to pull this on me now?"

Hawke looked away. Zach's chest heaved up and down with each breath. Out of all of the things he had imagined – and he had imagined a lot – this hadn't even crossed his mind once. It was fine, though. They hadn't confirmed it. This could just be a lie.

Right.

It was a lie.

"You look like me," said Hawke, his voice low, almost to a soft murmur. "You have my eyes. When I first saw you, I swore… You looked so much like me, but there was so much of Abby there, too. There was no mistaking it. You confirmed my suspicions when you told me her name."

He's calling her by a nickname!

"Anyone could look like you," said Zach with a snarl. "Genetics are complex like that." He let out an aggravated sound, throwing his hands into the air. "Tell me this is some cruel, sick joke you're playing with me. Tell me!"

What a change. He'd been afraid of what his enemy could do to him. He hadn't been prepared for lies – or were they the truth? What was a lie? What was the truth? Who was he to believe? Lies had become the most frightening thing now.

"You look like her," whispered Hawke. "You're definitely Abby's son. But you're not Mike's son. That much I know."

More nicknames. This man had a lot of audacity. Was this all he wanted? He didn't intend to be the nasty villain who blackmailed the hero into doing his dirty work? No, he wanted to find out if Zach was his… was his—

Bile rose inside Zach's throat.

He couldn't even think the term. Even thinking about it was insane – made it possible. He dropped his face into his hands, dragging his flesh down with his fingers.

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Oh, please let this be a cruel joke.

"Want to prove me wrong?" asked Hawke. Zach's head popped up, his hands still clutching his face. "Let's test it. If I'm wrong, then you can go. I won't bother you or your friends ever again."

He'll leave? Just like that? As if.

"You'll really leave?" said Zach, narrowing his eyes. His hands dropped to his sides. He scoffed. "You're a liar. Why would I agree to that?"

"I swear on your mother," said Hawke, quiet reverence in his voice. "I will leave this city if I'm wrong. I won't hurt Abby's son. I can't make you believe me, but I will keep that promise. Abby was a special person in my life. You're her son. I would never directly do something to hurt her."

Directly?

There was something gentle in his tone, in his expression, in his eyes – somehow, Zach found himself believing this man wouldn't hurt him now. This is ridiculous! There was no way Zach would blindly believe Falcon would leave the city once they learned Zach wasn't his son. But the way he talked about Abigail… Perhaps he really knew her.

Falcon had known his mother and father.

Had they been friends? That much could be true… There's so much I don't know.

"Well? Will you agree to do a testing?"

It's all right. There's no way I'm related to Hawke. It's impossible. My father is Michael Bennet. My Dad was a great man. There's no logical reason why I'd be related to this man.

Let's set this straight. I can't have this hanging over my head.

I have to clear the air, learn the truth.

Zach slowly nodded his consent. Hawke motioned with a finger; Zach took a step closer. He looked at the desk with a new light. The man had been prepared for this.

He really believes…

Hawke snapped a plastic glove over his hand and grabbed a swab from the table. He turned around and stepped up to Zach. He looked up at the man; his heart thumped. Panic flushed through his veins.

What am I doing? Am I really doing a DNA test with this man? A stranger? A frickin' terrorist?!

What if?

What if it was true? What if he really was related to this man? What, then? Then, what?!

What am I doing?

"Swallow and open your mouth," said Hawke.

Zach obeyed. Hawke inserted the swab into his mouth. The cotton swab gently brushed against the interior of his cheek for a few seconds, before it moved to the edge of his teeth. Hawke withdrew the swab, setting it aside. He did this until he had three samples.

Zach trembled. He wrapped his arms around his waist. He watched the man collect samples of himself. Zach's eyes lost their focus; it was becoming a blur.

"W–what now?" asked Zach. He let out a breathy snort. "What, we send it to a lab and they give us the results in five to ten business days?"

"I do it here myself," said Hawke, not looking back. "I have the equipment."

"Lovely. Fantastic," drawled Zach, his arms tightening around his waist. He rubbed a nervous hand over his arm. "But you aren't exactly an award winning trustworthy guy. Huh, I wonder why."

"I can't fake science," said Hawke, stopping for a moment to glance back at him. "There's no twisting the truth."

Zach scoffed. "Please. You've been lying to me ever since I met you. What am I supposed to expect? You're a liar."

Hawke let out a deep, regretful sigh. "If I had known the truth years ago, then things would've turned out very differently."

What?

Hawke pointed to the couch. "You might want to sit down," he said. "It won't be long, but it will still take some time. It's not instant."

The man went silent, sitting down in the black office chair and rolling closer to the computer. Zach sat on the edge of the plush sofa, his hands clasped in his lap. He watched the man, staring at the high back of the office chair. His knuckles went white. He twisted the skin back and forth.

Could it be true?

Zach didn't know enough of his parents to be certain. He'd been six years old when they had been killed. He had little left of them, except for a painting by his mother and an old journal from his father. They had moved around too much for Zach to remember any close friends. They had always been a tight knit family.

So, what if?

What if there was more to their story? What if this stranger had known his parents, had been a friend, and Zach never had a clue? What if it was worse?

What if Hawke was his father?

The very thought made his mouth go dry. There were so many scenarios that could've brought that to pass. Cheating. Rape. Zach wasn't sure he could handle that last thought. If this man had done something so horrific…

This night would not end well.

But… That didn't make sense by the way Hawke talked about Abigail – not that he couldn't be delusional in his own head. It sounded like he wished he were Zach's father. Oh, right. Falcon wanted to be a Dad, so he would stop his mass murdering ways to raise his son.

Riiiight.

Yet another 'what if' crossed his mind.

What would've life been like if Zach hadn't been a ward of the government? What if he'd had a father?

Emotion overcame him, one of a deep, hidden desire – a desire for a living, breathing father. It startled him to the core. Zach tore his head to the side, his breathing ragged and erratic. He tried to calm it down.

His feelings betrayed him. Zach wasn't about to let someone like this man sway him. He had come this far without a father. Ten years. He didn't need a biological father in the form of this criminal. His friends were his family now and that was all Zach needed.

What did Falcon expect – if, by some crazy reason, they were father and son? Was he supposed to feel a loving connection to Hawke? Ha! That was a real funny joke.

Zach didn't see the humor in it.

In the end, it didn't matter. This man wasn't family. Anyone could be a sperm donor. It took a real – present and honorable – man to be a father.

Michael Bennet had been such a man.

"It's finished," whispered Hawke. He turned around in the chair and motioned to the screen. Light glimmered in his eyes. "See the answer for yourself."

No.

Stop that.

Stop with that emotional manipulation.

He stepped forward; they were like lead. There was a list of results on the computer screen. He skimmed the contents; his heart prayed this was a terrible joke, that the two of them would go back to being Falcon and One – Hero and Villain, enemies with no connections whatsoever.

He denied the hidden prayer, the irrational prayer that ruled out all logical thought.

'DNA results show paternal connection with the child. Subject Sebastian is the immediate paternal parent to Subject Zach.'

His heart fell into his stomach. A wave of cold heat flushed through his body. His mouth went dry; his palms became damp. A weight broke his back. His hands slammed onto the surface of the desk. Glass vials rattled. Hunched over, he stared at those traitorous words – those cruel, earth shattering words that changed the very way he thought about himself.

So.

It was true.

The truth was a traitor.

Zach looked over at the man. Hawke gazed at him with a tender expression. There was a soft light in his eyes – those eyes. Zach gritted his teeth. He had the man's eyes. They were older, jaded with flecks of darkness – but they were the same.

Dammit.

Zach sucked in his breath, placing a hand over his mouth. Hawke really was his father. How did this happen—no, he knew the mechanics!—how, with all the possibilities in this world could this have happened? Friends? Had they been friends? Cheated? Had Michael known? Had he known Zach wasn't his son?

Zach squeezed his eyes shut.

Raped?

Had he been conceived out of power, violence, and hate?

Tears fell. This was too much. This was horrible. He'd been sired by a terrible man, a man who had taken the lives of hundreds of people and hadn't batted an eye.

Son of a criminal. Son of a murderer. Son of a terrorist.

His stomach turned. A wave of nausea lifted into his throat.

"I think I'm gonna be sick!"