"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jeff asked his youngest son.
Alan nodded. "Yeah, Dad, I'm sure."
It had been three days since Jeff and his sons had rescued Alan from Chris Soble. At first, Alan had been very clingy, not wanting to be left alone for too long. His brothers hadn't minded, preferring to keep a close eye on the youngest Tracy while he healed from his ordeal.
While his sons traded stories from that night, Alan had learned of Elliot's help. None of his other sons had noticed, but Alan had grown thoughtful. It wasn't until late the night before that Alan had approached his father and asked to speak with Elliot. Jeff had tried to ask why Alan wanted to speak with his estranged cousin, but Alan had merely explained that it was something he needed to do.
Jeff and Alan walked into the conference room of the Boston police department, where Chris and his sons were being held while they awaited trial. Elliot was already there, clad in orange coveralls. He looked up at the Tracys' entrance, trying to smile a greeting.
"Hi," he said nervously.
Alan stood in front of the table where Elliot sat. "Hi."
Jeff nodded, hovering protectively behind his son.
Elliot glanced up at Jeff, then looked at Alan. "They said you wanted to talk to me."
Alan nodded. "I wanted to say thank you. If you hadn't told my dad where to find me, my brothers would be dead now."
Elliot shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I really am sorry for what I did. I hope you can believe that."
Alan stared at Elliot for a long moment. "Do you really believe everything your dad said about my dad?"
Elliot shrugged. "I don't know. My dad always talked about how Jeff Tracy took his sister from him. I don't remember Aunt Lucy very well, but I spoke with her a couple of times. From what I do remember, it's hard for me to believe that anyone could make her do anything she didn't want to do."
Alan smiled. "That sounds right."
Elliot returned the smile. "Listen, Alan . . . I don't know if you can ever forgive me and my family for what we've done to you, but . . . for what it's worth . . . I'm sorry."
Alan looked down at the table. "I may not understand why your dad did what he did, but I can understand how much he misses my mom. I miss her too."
A warm hand gently squeezed Alan's shoulder. Alan looked back at his father and met Jeff's understanding gaze.
"Well, my dad was right about one thing," Elliot said, drawing Alan's eyes back to him. "You're a lot like your mom."
Alan and Jeff bid farewells and left the room, heading out of the police station. As they continued to walk down the street, Jeff draped one arm around his son's shoulders.
"Feel better?" he asked.
Alan nodded, looking down at his feet. "I think so."
He felt his father's inquiring gaze on him and hurried to elaborate. "Chris may have been a bad man, but deep down he must have loved Mom very much. Do you think he'll ever come to terms with her dying?"
"I wish I had an answer for you, son," Jeff replied softly, hugging Alan to him. "He's never been all right with anything in his life. As much as I can't forgive him for what he's done to you, I have to agree with him on one point."
Alan turned quizzical eyes onto his father. "Really?"
Jeff nodded, smiling fondly at Alan. "You are most definitely just like your mother."