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Fabian’s head hits the cement and he sees spots. He also sees the truth; this isn’t love. Love doesn't dirty its knuckles with the blood of its son. Love doesn’t berate its ‘darling’ boy for getting jailed. Buoyed by this realization, Fabian swings at his father and connects with his jaw. He connects again. A third time. No words are said, but his fists contain his emotions and down Bill Seacaster goes, knowing that his son is his own man. Fabian moves to the corner of the jail cell, his fist stinging from the punches. But his heart hurts more.