597 Words

"Uh, Dad? Can I talk t' you?"

Albert had no idea at the time what those words would lead to, and now that the conversation was over and he had the time to try - key word there, try - to process what exactly had happened and what was going to happen, he was... still not coping well, to be quite frank. How could he? That news was unexpected and awful and how could his son do this to him?!?

Wait, no, scratch that. He knew exactly how his son had done this. But the how wasn't really the issue here. The issue was that Flynn had made the same mistake his father had, and while Albert didn't regret a single moment in the twins' lives, the fact that he had been young and foolish and wasn't more careful had made him try to make sure his children understood what that kind of risk-taking could do - he certainly hadn't expected... this.

"You what?!?"

"...Got a girl knocked up. I know, Dad. I know. The thing is, Dad, we're gonna try an'... hell, I dunno. We ain't in love or anythin', but neither of us wants t' abort the kid, we're gonna try an' give it a chance..."

It had been like watching himself over twenty years ago. It was disturbing, and unsettling, and worst of all...

Worst of all...

He was going to be a grandfather! Before he hit forty!

The world was completely unfair and did this mean he really was old? If so, any hope he had of that pretty blonde senshi seeing him as anything other than an unattractive, ancient, wrinkled-up old husk were going to go down the drain faster than he could snap his fingers. After all, what pretty young lady wanted to date someone who not only had grown children, but an infant grandchild?

No, no, his life was ruined. To say nothing of his son's lifestyle. He hoped the boy was going to be able to handle this kind of responsibility, but frankly he worried. He loved Flynn, but he had never understood the young man, and his fascination with heavy metal bands was disturbing - not to mention probably incredibly unsuitable for a little one.

He hoped Flynn could do this, he did, but...

Damn it, he had hoped he'd raised his children right! Had he gone wrong somewhere? Why was his son repeating his mistakes? He had been so young when the twins were born - and he wasn't going to think about the second fling that had apparently resulted in... well. Alright, so Ri had been pretty and still was, in her way, but she was far too commanding and nobody ordered Albert Wiley around and -

His thoughts were getting disorganized again. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands and whined. A grandfather. At thirty-nine.

"It's... alright, Flynn. I'll help you. After all, I did it - so you won't be going in blind."

"Thanks, Dad... heh. I mean, grandpa."

A pained whine escaped the melodramatic brunet as he leaned back in his chair and stared blankly at the ceiling. Where did they all go from here? And why, why, why did he feel so old and tired? Maybe it was because that baby was going to be born into a war zone, and didn't even know it. Or maybe it was just because too much was happening all at once.

...Or maybe it was because he was old, and he was only now really starting to realize it.