He shakes his head, glancing at her again, turning towards her and then looking away again. "He's my son. Was. Was my son. But I don't think I am his father. Not... not in the normal sense."

He might be. God knows he went to bed with enough people, but he doesn't think that it's likely.

"It didn't matter. Not to me. We were close, similar in a lot of ways. I took on the role of being his father gladly."

He doesn't know exactly how she will take that news, but it doesn't make a difference. Jack was his son, a brother to Sammy. He was a good kid, despite what he became.