Disclaimer: This show is absolutely not mine. If it was, I wouldn't be writing AU stories. Author's notes at end.

Equivocacy

By Ryeloza

Chapter Four

Carlos Solis was well-aware that he had faults. He often compromised his morals to further his own success; his patience was almost nonexistent, the twin brother of his wrath; if he stopped and counted, he was sure that he committed more of the deadly sins on a regular basis than their virtuous counterparts; he went to church about half as often as he should, and confession even less. Despite all of this, he didn't dwell on the fate of his immortal soul. Whatever pangs of guilt he felt for his behavior was balanced by his unwavering faith in his one redeeming quality: above all else, he held his family in highest esteem; he would do anything for his wife and daughters, take in a long lost cousin in trouble, personally bring his aunt into his home to heal her through a long illness. Nothing was more important to him.

And somehow he had ended up married to the woman who was the very antithesis of this. Gaby, who still viewed the world with a selfishness that made her often put her own needs before her daughters, who would boot his long lost cousin to the curb, and put up the money for a nursing home before taking in a sick relative. Long ago, he'd come to accept these qualities in his wife. He understood that family had never been for her what it had been for him—unconditional, supportive love. Her mother had never set eyes on Celia, the last time her sister had called had been for a loan, and Carlos had never even met her brother. But whatever her views, Gaby was his family, first and foremost. Gaby, Juanita and Celia. Every day he looked at them and loved them and thought of how very blessed he was and tried not to think of how it still felt like there was something missing. Someone missing.

Three days ago, he'd been sitting in a hotel bar, celebrating his birthday with a scotch and cigar. Earlier that night, Gaby had been whispering dirty words in his ear, promising to do things to him when he got home that she hadn't yet delivered. It was his own fault, he supposed, for opening his big mouth and bringing up a baby. The words had spilled out before he thought them through, and the results were the worst he could have expected. Gaby had traded beds with Celia, and Carlos had spent the night failing to avoid his daughter's kicks. Needless to say, it hadn't been a particularly restful evening.

Now he sat in his car, the light of Friday morning dawning in the sky, not particularly regretting ditching Gaby to deal with the girls' morning routine on her own so he could escape to work (never mind that it wouldn't help convince her to try for a third child). His bad mood—a combination of annoyance and sleep deprivation—was also not helped by the fact that he was sitting in the Scavos' driveway, watching Tom say the world's longest goodbye to his wife and newborn daughter. Idly, he pressed on the horn and repressed a smirk as Tom jumped a foot in the air. Lynette threw him a half-amused, half-exasperated look, but he just waved, fake smile plastered on his face, and then tapped the face of his watch with his finger.

As though he was going to be late; it was scarcely seven in the morning.

Lynette reached out and took the baby from Tom, leaning up and pecking him on the lips as she did so. Tom wrapped a hand around her neck, trapping her, and gave her a much longer kiss. It took everything in Carlos' power to resist hitting the horn again.

Finally, Lynette gave Tom a gentle push, and he stepped back, saying something that made her laugh and roll her eyes. With reluctance, he backed up, not taking his eyes off of them until he actually bumped into the car. Lynette shook her head, waved, and went into the house, but whatever spell she had Tom under didn't seem to lessen once she was out of sight. He got into the car with a sigh, eyes still lingering on the house as though he might see her through the walls.

"Good morning," said Carlos, trying to cajole Tom to the here and now more than actually greet him. All he got in return was a distracted murmur, what could have been a "hi" but sounded more like, "uhn." Noting the dark circles under his friend's eyes, the bleary look in his eyes, Carlos had the impression that Tom hadn't had any more sleep than he had. The thought irrationally lessened his annoyance. "Long night?"

"I was up with the baby."

"Yeah…Uh, Congratulations, man."

Tom blinked, coming out of some stupor, and finally glanced at Carlos. "Thanks."

Disconcerted, Carlos put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway onto the deserted cul-de-sac. The world around them still slumbered silently, doors shut and lights off, with one exception. As they drove past Susan's, Carlos did a double take, surprised to see Paul Young standing outside watering Susan's lawn. Surprised to see Paul Young at all, despite Gaby's warning.

"So," he said, dragging out the vowel as he tore his eyes from their newly reinstated neighbor, "that's weird."

Tom snorted. "Yeah. Tell me about it."

"What is he doing here?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know. I'm kind of hoping I'll wake up and find out the past three weeks have just been some bad dream. Including Paul."

Despite his piqued curiosity, Carlos couldn't quite bring himself to inquire about what was bothering his friend. A headache was pressing behind his eyes, and the return of Paul Young was the least of his problems. "Hey," he said, forcing some strain of positivity into his voice, "you have a new baby at home. Whatever else is going on, that kind of overshadows it, right?"

"Yeah," Tom agreed softly. He was still staring out the window, seeing some phantom that was not there as they passed houses that blurred together in their sameness. "Do you ever feel like your whole life is out of your control?"

Carlos gave a sharp bark of laughter. Gaby's protestations aside, whether or not he destroyed or tampered with every form of birth control in the house, the truth was that having another baby was so far beyond his control that he couldn't handle it. It was easy to blame Gaby, to some extent he would, but he also knew that both of his girls had been gifts from God, and just because he was stingy enough to want a third, it didn't mean that miracle would be granted.

Convincing Gaby to try, though, would be a start.

"You have no idea," he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Tom gave him a curious look, and Carlos sighed. "I'm trying to convince Gaby to try for another baby."

For the first time, Tom smiled, a wry twitch of his lips that told Carlos he knew exactly how that had been received. "Lynette and I had that conversation once. She said no, but six months later she was pregnant with Penny."

"Yeah, well, you've never really had any problems in that department, have you?"

Tom frowned, and Carlos felt a pang of guilt. It was easy to put his foot in his mouth sometimes; easy to forget that he didn't have the monopoly on loss and sorrow. Glossing over his own faux pas, he added, "She won't even talk about it. She stormed out of the room just because I brought it up."

"Maybe," said Tom absently, "she doesn't know how to talk about it."

Carlos' brow furrowed, not bothering to respond even as Tom's words echoed in his mind. There was no question that Gaby avoided what she didn't want to discuss. The idea that she was incapable, though, had never once entered his mind.

Strange that it would be Tom to have the insight. Strange, especially given that Lynette was the most annoyingly forthright person he knew.

Strange that he actually thought Tom might be right.

"Mommy, are you crying?"

Susan wiped her eyes surreptitiously and plastered on her best fake smile for her eight-year-old son. As hard as the past few weeks had been, she had remained fairly composed—at least comparatively. In the twenty-four hours she had been away from Wisteria Lane, she'd cried more times than she had in the past month combined. This morning's tears were prompted by the sight of MJ in his school uniform. Even Susan wasn't naïve enough to believe that they'd be able to afford to put him back in private school next year, even if she somehow became the principal of the school.

She was failing her son. She and Mike both were. And MJ, smiling and happy and innocent, had no idea. Years from now, he'd be as withdrawn as Julie, questioning his parents' choices, probably drinking himself to death.

And there were the tears again.

"I'm fine, baby," she lied. "It's just allergies."

MJ shrugged and picked up his backpack. "Maybe you're allergic to the new apartment."

"Maybe."

She followed MJ to the door, sighing as she stepped outside and surveyed the tacky exterior. Mike had promised it would look better in the light of a new morning; he was wrong. Across the way, she could still see her neighbor's laundry flapping in the spring breeze; the pool looked even more scummy and desolate today; the cheap white paint was still peeling off of the cast iron bars outlining the second story of the complex. In her mind, she could picture her friends' reactions should she ever bring them here (she wouldn't): Bree's fake smile—the one that didn't reach her eyes; Lynette looking sympathetic, but relieved that it wasn't her; Gaby not even bothering to hide her disgust. As unbearable as this place was, somehow her friends knowing about it would make it even worse.

The problem was that she didn't want to return to Wisteria Lane either. The thought of seeing strangers in her house, of even seeing the place she'd called home for nearly thirty years: it was unbearable.

"Can I go swimming after school?"

"It's too cold," said Susan automatically. Her footsteps clanged on the cast iron stairs; she'd never be able to maneuver up and down them in heels, she decided. "I'll get your games unpacked this afternoon. Maybe we can play Candyland."

"I'm too old for that."

Susan's eyes watered again, and she nearly tripped down the last two stairs.

Oblivious, MJ ran to the car and opened the door. Susan took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down and think of something practical lest she crash the car on the way to school. She should get Lynette something for the baby, she decided. Bree was knitting enough booties for an army of babies, and Gaby had said something about alcohol. With limited funds and skills, she really only had one viable option. She still had extra copies of her old children's books around somewhere; certainly Lynette hadn't kept all of her kids' old stuff.

Or maybe she'd paint something. Something new. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd picked up a paintbrush.

The thought cheered her considerably, and by the time she dropped MJ off, she was actually looking forward to getting home and digging out her old art supplies. Even if she had taken the day off to unpack, she could certainly afford a couple of hours to indulge her creative outlet. Mike would understand. And even if he didn't, he'd pretend to; guilt was weighing on him heavily now.

She glanced back at MJ one last time. He'd found his friends on the playground and had joined in the cacophony of shouting and laughing children. The thought of tearing him away from this was almost enough to drag her mood back down, but before she could indulge her melancholy—or fight it—someone pounded on her window and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Susan!" shouted Gaby, her voice muffled by the glass. Susan rolled down the window, hand on her heart as she willed it to slow.

"You scared me," she said, but Gaby didn't seem to hear her.

"We tried to call you all day yesterday."

Immediately, her defenses prickled. Gaby, who even at her most destitute had never even come close to giving up her home, had no idea what she was going through. "Well," she huffed, "I was a little busy."

"Susan, are you aware that you rented your house to Paul Young?"

"What? No I didn't."

"Yeah, you did."

"He's in jail."

"Not anymore."

Susan blinked, unable to reconcile Gaby's words with reality. She hadn't seen Paul in ten years. There was no way he was in her house right now. No way he was standing in her kitchen—sleeping in her bedroom—smiling in that eerily pleasant way he had at her friends and neighbors. It was ridiculous.

"Susan? Did you hear me?"

Ridiculous.

"Susan?"

But then, everything about her life right now was ridiculous.

"Gaby, I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Susan—"

She put the car into drive, giving Gaby barely enough time to back away before she peeled away from the curb, ignoring all of the posted signs about school zone speed limits. All of her reservations about returning to Wisteria Lane were forgotten, her depressed alleviated for the time being, all feeling and emotion lost in the thought that Paul Young, murderer, might be eating breakfast in her kitchen at this very moment.

She couldn't believe it—wouldn't—unless she saw it with her own eyes.

Back at the school, Gabrielle pulled out her phone and hit three on her speed dial. "Hey," she said with a sigh. "I may have done something stupid…"

A/n: Boy, there is a lot going on. I guess, first and foremost, I should mention that I've stopped watching the new season. I gave this season a chance, but it's no longer enjoyable for me to watch. Basically, I'm pretending that the new season doesn't even exist (the only way I'm getting through it). I'll be posting more extensively about this on my blog, but I think it's important to mention it here as well.

That decision really fueled my return to this fic. I was knocking around the idea of writing an AU season eight, and then remembered I already had an AU season seven in the works. And since I hated the way season seven ended, I thought it might be better to back up even further than the beginning of the current season. As I re-read this, I liked the foundation I had built more than I remembered, so I decided to pick up where I left off.

Hopefully, there's still some interest in this story. I know it's been a long time since I updated, but I have a renewed energy and interest in this fic. That said, I would love to hear what you think. Thank you all for your feedback (in advance for this and for any of you who have left reviews in the past). You guys really give me a great motivation to keep writing; despite everything, I still love this fandom.

Thank you! You guys are wonderful!

-Ryeloza