If the emotional damage of the first part wasn't enough or maybe you just hate cliff hangers, well here is part 2!

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I'm broken. Something is wrong with me. Mason held Sophia to him, knowing that there was no physical pain that could hurt more than hearing his daughter say those words and having her cry on his shoulder.

What had he done wrong? If his daughter, his precious daughter believed what she said, and on some level she did since she'd spoken it, that meant Mason had failed. He was the reason for this pain she felt.

He rocked her slowly and closed his eyes. Focus, focus on her. Do not lose yourself to thoughts. He could imagine Owens' pissed-off look for him diving into a full analysis when it was not the time. Yvette understood him too much to give him the type of stern rebuke he needed. Owens never failed to make him see his idiocy.

Eventually, Sophia stopped crying and sniffed. Yvette pulled back and met Mason's gaze. He nodded towards the door to the ballroom. Yvette nodded back in understanding. She would make their apologies, they were going home. Before she left, Yvette kissed Sophia's head and whispered to her.

"I love you, mija," she said.

Sophia lifted her head as Yvette slipped back into the ballroom. When she raised her face to Mason, he felt his heart clench. Her big brown eyes were red-rimmed and streaks of tears still clung to her soft cheeks. Though he didn't want to ever let go of her again, Mason set her down on the ground. He cupped her face and brushed away her tears.

"Where is Mama going?"

She asked in French, telling Mason she still felt unsafe speaking in either English or Spanish. It took all of Mason's might not to ask Sophia who she'd been speaking to at the table. He could not go yell at careless teenagers. He could not. He needed to focus on his daughter, not letting loose his pain for her.

"To tell Carmella's parents that we have to go home," Mason said.

"But Grandmother bought me this dress for this event. It would be rude to her to leave early and it would be rude to Carmella. We haven't been able to wish her a happy birthday."

Say anything to anyone in that room? Mason didn't give a-

He took a breath and smiled softly, betraying an ease that he didn't feel.

"We can do that some other time," Mason said.

Or never for all he cared. Right then he never wanted to come to another one of these things. He didn't know what happened but someone had said something to his daughter that made her leave the table. It was better for Mason to never know who it was, he didn't know what he would do.

"Okay," Sophia said. "Are we going to the car then?"

Mason nodded. Sophia hesitated but held her hand out to him.

In many ways, Mason knew his daughter was exactly like him. When it came to physical affection, they were the same. If given to them by someone close, it was accepted. But very rarely did they ever ask for it.

For Sophia to silently ask him to hold her hand spoke to the depth of uncertainty she must feel.

Mason controlled his grip on her hand, keeping it gentle when all he wanted was to hold it so tightly she never felt scared or uncertain again.

Together, they walked down the hallway and found the door to the lobby. At the entrance, Mason handed the valet his ticket and they waited. As the car arrived, Yvette appeared from the hotel. She brushed a hand over Sophia's hair and smiled softly down at her.

Though she didn't show it, Mason understood how rattled she'd been when Sophia wouldn't talk to her. It wasn't that Sophia wouldn't talk at all, but it was the fact she'd chosen the language her mother couldn't speak, cutting her out completely.

Walking into the hall and seeing Yvette trying to stay calm as Sophia spoke rapidly in French had been startling. But when he heard what she said, he understood. In a place where information was freely spread around, she hadn't wanted her words to be understood by anyone. In that moment, it meant her mother as well.

Mason reached out and squeezed Yvette's shoulder. She met his eyes and he stared back at her, being the calm he knew she needed.

With a tiny smile, she guided Sophia into the back of the car. Mason took the driver's seat and glanced in the rearview mirror. Buckled, Yvette had Sophia wrapped in her arms, resting her head on top of Sophia's.

Though they remained silent the entire way home, Mason raged in his thoughts. He yelled at the faceless ones who'd hurt his daughter. He let his mind be as loud and angry as he wanted to be outwardly. It meant that by the time they arrived home, he could put himself and his feelings to the side. The only focus he had was for his daughter.

He parked along the curb and followed Yvette and Sophia up the front stairs. In the foyer, he faced Sophia, radiating a calm he knew she would need.

"I would like to talk about what you said in the hallway," he said. "Would you prefer to get changed first or are you fine talking now?"

"I would like to change, please," Sophia said.

"Do you want help?" Yvette asked in English. Mason knew the language intentional, she didn't  want to speak in Spanish in case that had been what affected Sophia.

"No thank you," Sophia said.

"Okay, we'll be in the living room when your ready," Yvette said with a comforting smile.

As Sophia disappeared upstairs, the smile vanished and Mason got the full force of his wife's wild emotions. Instantly, he cupped her face.

"This is not about you," he said. "She didn't feel safe speaking in Spanish. I don't know what was said to her but she said she was..." He needed to stay in control. His wife needed him. His daughter needed him. He would not let his emotions take hold of him. "She asked what was wrong with her, why she was broken."

As the words had been a piercing blow to Mason, he saw as they hit Yvette harder. Tears sprung to her eyes and he hugged her to him, tightly.

"We'll talk to her, but we can not let her know what we are feeling," Mason said. "She needs support without too many emotions."

Yvette pressed her face into his shoulder and he felt as she took a deep breath, containing her emotions. He held her closer for a second longer then pulled back. He brushed her cheek with his thumb erasing the tears.

"I can talk to her alone if you need me to," he said.

Yvette broke from his grasp, wiped her face, and straightened her dress. When she met his gaze, he saw the woman who could handle anything with the calmest expression.

They moved to the living room, Yvette settling on the couch with her shoes removed and legs curled up, exuding a sense of peace. Mason took a spot on the coffee table, knowing he'd want to be directly in front of Sophia.

When she walked into the living room, Mason looked at her but showed nothing more than an acknowledgment of her standing there. Dressed in her pajamas, Mason couldn't help but seeing how young she was. With her intelligence and high vocabulary, at times he forgot that she was only his little girl. The one he would do anything for.

Without needing them to tell her Sophia took the spot across from Mason. Though she sat with her feet on the floor and her hands placed in her lap, Mason could tell the emotions from earlier were still there. With one finger she subtly made figure eights on her leg. Mason held himself back from taking her hands in his.

"Sophia," Mason said. "Do you feel like telling us what happened to you?"

Sophia thought for a minute then shook her head.

"That's fine," Mason said. Safer for the ones who'd done something to her. "Are you up for discussing what you said in the hallway?"

She nodded. The nonverbal answer told Mason that though she would discuss it, she didn't feel there was anything to say that would change her reality. Right then he understood that what she'd said was set in stone in her mind. Though he wanted to adamantly refute those thoughts, hug her, and feel all the emotions with her, he knew that wouldn't change her view of it.

"Do you acknowledge that it is a fact that I am older than you?" he asked.

"Yes, that's a fact," she said.

"Do you acknowledge that being older means that I have more experience in life than you?"

"Yes."

"Do you acknowledge that there are things that from my experience I will know and that might not make sense to you as someone who is still young?"

"Yes. That makes sense."

"With all those facts can you believe it true when I say that you are not broken, that there is nothing wrong with you?"

Sophia opened her mouth and Mason raised his hands, stopping her. He'd noticed how she'd stop making figure eights and pressed her hands into her knees. She wouldn't agree with him.

"I'm asking you for this moment to believe these facts are true and therefore what I say, though it feels contrary to what you think at this moment, is also true."

"I can try," Sophia said.

"Thank you. I want to ask you a question that will not seem related to this topic. Are you aware that there are people who struggle with math?"

"Yes, there are a lot in my class," Sophia said, her hands relaxing on her knees.

"But math is really easy for you, correct?"

"Yes. It's like Mama's hug."

"Exactly, it's like Mama's hug. It feels natural to you. Do you believe something is wrong with those students who don't see math like a hug?"

"No. I understand that their level of comprehension isn't the same as mine."

Mason nearly smiled as Sophia clasped her hands together and rested them on her lap. The stone was starting to soften.

"That's right, it's not. And even though they don't understand math like you, that doesn't mean that there's something wrong with them or even that they are broken. It is simply an area where they need to work harder at."

He saw the instant the connection linked in his daughter's mind. Her entire face went blank. To the world, he knew they took this to mean she'd closed him off, but he knew her. In that moment she'd retreated into her mind, following the path his logic had created for her. He said nothing, knowing the strongest conviction came from self-realization.

He glanced at Yvette and from her complete stillness knew she was waiting too for Sophia to draw the final conclusion.

When Sophia focused on Mason and her face softened, he breathed again.

"Because I struggle to understand why people act certain ways or why what I say makes people mad sometimes doesn't mean I'm broken or something is wrong with me, it is the area I need to work harder in."

Everything in Mason melted with relief but he kept himself from showing it.

"Yes. You are simply a student who needs to learn more about people."

Sophia nodded to herself but said nothing else.

Mason wanted to say something more, to make sure his truth had overridden the false truth she'd believed but he said nothing. He knew like with some computer programs you needed to give them space to process the data.

"I'm tired," Sophia said. "I would like to go to sleep."

"That's fine."

Sophia stood but turned to Yvette. "Would you sleep in my bed tonight?"

Mason hurt at the question. It was not a common request and he knew that meant she still felt unsettled by the evening's events. Even though she could accept the new viewpoint, there was still a part of her that wasn't certain.

"Of course," Yvette said, standing up. "Just let me get changed and I'll come in."

"Can I sit by your bed as you fall asleep?" Mason asked.

Sophia nodded once. "I would like that."

Mason followed Sophia up to her room. At her bed, he pulled back her covers and she climbed into them, resting on her side. Dropping to the floor, Mason sat beside the bed and held out his hand to her. Sophia hesitated then accepted it, curling her small fingers around his large ones.

"I love you," he said.

Sophia held his gaze and he saw the absolute trust in her eyes. "I know you do."

Yvette entered the bedroom changed into pajamas. On the bed, she curled up around Sophia, cocooning her in her arms.

"Do you want the lights on or off?" Mason asked.

"Off."

Releasing her hand, Mason switched them off but quickly returned to his spot next to the bed. In the dimness coming from the open doorway, Mason locked eyes with Yvette. He sent her strength and reassurance. She smiled softly at him in thanks.

Closing her eyes, she snuggled her daughter. Mason watched as Sophia curled deeper into her mother's arms, finding safety in them.

Mason sat there staring at the two people in his life that he'd do anything for. The two people he wanted to be perfect for.

Eventually, Sophia slipped her fingers free of his grasp as she rolled over in her mother's arms. Mason remained on the floor, watching them sleep. The silence of the room echoed in his thoughts. Nothing crossed his mind except for a single thought, a question.

That one question made him stand, close the door, descend the stairs, grab his car keys and leave the house.

As he drove, he focused on the road, his mind a vast contrast to where it had been on the drive from the hotel. Parked on the curb, he climbed out, entered the apartment building, took the elevator to the top floor, exited, and walked the last flight of steps to the rooftop. As he stepped out, a cool breeze whirled around him. He stopped at the roof edge, gazing out on the city.

He slid out his phone and sent off a single message: I'm on your rooftop.

He tucked his hands into his pockets, letting the sound of the city absorb him. When the door to the roof opened, he didn't move. Footsteps approached behind him and two chairs scraped the rough ground.

For a long moment, Mason continued to do nothing but stand there, seeing the small snippets of lives in other buildings. His companions said nothing. Finally, he found the strength to ask the question in his mind.

"Am I a bad father?"

To their credit, an instant response wasn't given.

This is why Mason had come to them. He didn't need false reassurance but brutal truth.

"What would make you ask that question?" Donovan finally asked.

"Tonight my daughter asked me what was wrong with her, why was she broken?"

Mason clenched his fists in his pockets, his vision blurring.

"Am I my father?" he asked.

"No." The instant and sharp answer from Carter made Mason loosen his fists a fraction.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. I am."

There was a vehemence in her tone that dared him to argue or fight her.

Mason turned around, though Donovan sat with a relaxed ease that Mason knew was his way of handling all conflicts, Carter stood with her hands curled as if she could beat his stupid notion out of him.

"What makes you sure?" he asked.

"Because of the way Sophia looks at you," Carter said. "In a world that is confusing and overwhelming to her most of the time, you are a safe place. That fact alone means you are not your father."

Even though it was true, Mason felt a prick of sadness for his younger self.

"Why would she ask if she's broken, or what's wrong with her then? If she had those thoughts it means I did something wrong."

"No," Donovan said in his calm voice. "We knew this would happen. With Sophia being as gifted as she is, she was always going to face a moment when the difference between her and the rest of the world became clear. Because you put her in a gifted school early on that difference was never very clear. But now that she's at Hamilton it is inevitable."

"No one as logical as her," Carter joined in, "is ever going to be able to see all the facts and not ask those questions. She's seeing too many people around her that are all seemingly the same, which makes her the outlier. If the difference is her then she's naturally going to ask those questions."

Mason studied the ground. "Before this, she asked me if she was strange."

"What did you say?" Donovan asked.

"I told her that she was and that was the reason that she would change the world one day."

Both Donovan and Carter nodded to this.

"That's good," Carter said. "She wouldn't have believed you if you said she wasn't."

"You're not a bad father, Mason," Donovan said. "Because you support your daughter for exactly who she is. I know that doesn't mean it's ever easy, especially at times when she doesn't know exactly who she is. But you're not trying to make her someone else or convince her that she's like everyone else and that's what she needs most. She needs to know that with you, she can always be who she is."

Taking a deep breath, Mason tilted his head back, the night sky one blurry mess of starlight. "I never want her to think that she's broken ever again."

"That's not something you can control. She might," Carter said. "But you'll be there to remind her that she isn't."

Mason nodded, still willing his eyes to clear. When he felt he wouldn't make an embarrassing idiot of himself, he looked at Carter and Donovan.

"Thank you," he said.

Carter crossed over to him and hugged him. On instinct, he met Donovan's gaze but Donovan looked unbothered.

"We don't do this," Mason said, as he accepted her comfort.

"Sometimes we do." She lowered her voice. "You're there for her, Mason. That's all she needs, don't forget that."

"I'll try not to."

When Carter pulled away, Mason shook Donovan's hand.

"We're always here," Donovan said.

"I know. Thank you."

On the way home, Mason barely thought, simply letting Donovan and Carter's words replay in his head.

After changing into sweats, Mason slipped back into Sophia's room with a pillow and blanket from his bed. Setting it on the floor, he laid down. Before he fell asleep, he heard the rustle of blankets and could see the outline of Sophia's head poke over the edge of the bed.

"Father," she said.

"Yeah?" he said.

She didn't say anything right away then she said the thing that eased his heavy heart.

"I love you too. I thought you should know."

"I know."

She nodded once. "Good."

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I'm not crying, you're crying!

... are you crying? If so, I have a hug and a box of tissues for you.

Look, do I like causing you emotional distress? No! Never!... Okay maybe a little.

But come on, we have to admit it, Mason being a good dad makes us emotional! It's a full progression of his character arc! A true sign of how much he's grown! It's beautiful!

If the screen is no longer blurry then share your thoughts. If it was never blurry then you won't have trouble sharing your thoughts. 🗯💬💭💜

Even though I want to write a book for Sophia (I just don't have the energy to do it right now) I like writing her in the one shots because, like with this chapter, I can jump to Mason's POV and write the continuation of a situation from his perspective. That's not something I could do in a book without making it multiple POVs.

But now that I have written this chapter I might write it from Sophia's POV to see how she handles what Mason has said to her. I don't know, we'll see.

Thanks for reading my one shots, I know that they are written purely because you keep wanting them but still that means a lot to me! I thought I should remind you of my gratitude!

I love you! 💜

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