Nate Mentor

Pelion's Legacy

Chapter 1

Most people don’t pay attention to the world around them. They exist in a mental fog, spending more time in their own heads than in the outside world. Their minds are filled with plans, and schedules, and memories. I’m not like most people. If I had been, my life would never have ended up where it did, and I would never have found my true purpose, and true happiness.

It started innocently enough, on a Saturday evening in Huntington Beach. Indian summer had struck with a vengeance, and I found myself craving some sweet tea. Not having any in the house, I’d walked to a nearby Starbucks for a large cup. It was on my way back that I noticed something that didn’t fit the rhythm of the street.

Somewhere, at the edges of my awareness, a child was crying. Not the gentle cry of sorrowful news, or the loud bawl of a skinned knee, but the halting cry of desperation and fear. I stopped, trying to pinpoint the source.

The cry turned into a sharp yelp, and I zeroed in on a nearby alleyway. I dropped my cup and ran.

In the alley, among the detritus of urban civilization, a sharply dressed man had a small boy backed up against the wall.

"I know you have money, kid. Pretty boy like you, the cash must pour in."

"N-no! I don’t have any m-money! P-please just l-leave me alone!"

"Is that so?" the man snarled, flipping open a butterfly knife. "Then I’ll just take it from you in trade."

He slashed at the boy’s shirt, revealing pale white skin.

"Nice. This will be fun." Flipping the knife closed, he began to paw at the boy’s chest, while his left held him still. The boy’s struggles only seemed to excite him further.

Then I kicked him in the side of the knee.

He dropped to the ground, clutching his leg. "What the fu-"

"Language," I whispered coldly. "There are children present."

He made his way back up to his feet, swearing in what sounded like Ukrainian, and redrew his knife.

"Funny man," he growled, blade flickering back and forth. "You playing Good Samaritan? Or maybe you just want to play with him yourself?"

I stood at ready, eyes focused on his.

"Either way, if you want to play, you gotta pay. Let’s dance, <asshole>."

I let a thin smile dance on my lips. "<Prepare for pain, you worthless piece of garbage>."

He charged, and I let the beast take over. Sidestepping his lunge, I trapped his arm under mine and slipped my wrist around it, to his back. As I twisted, I wrenched hard, until the blade fell from his fingers. I finished the turn, slamming him headfirst into the wall.

He stood, wiping the blood from his eyes. In that moment, I kicked him in the stomach with the flat of my foot, driving the air from his lungs. Closing in rapidly, I grabbed him by the Adam’s apple, and glared at him, the beast raging behind my eyes.

"Go far away, <scum>. Or next time, I’ll take your life."

I squeezed just hard enough to put him to sleep, and turned to the boy, who’d huddled into a corner.

I knelt down so we were at eye level. "Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you."

"B-but you took that m-man apart! Y-you could do the s-same t-to m-me," he stammered.

"I could. But I won’t. I promise not to hurt you."

"P-promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," I replied, putting gestures to the words. "My name’s John. John Chiron. What’s yours?"

"J-Jason. Jason Quinn"

"Nice to meet you, Jason. Come on, I’ll take you to the police. They’ll get you home."

"NO!" he cried, shrinking away. "I won’t go back there! I won’t!"

That… was not the reaction I’d expected. I carefully reached out to him. "OK, no police. But you can’t stay out here. I’ll take you to my place, and you can spend the night in my spare bedroom"

"I d-don’t have to g-go back?" Fear warred with relief in Jason’s face. As I waited, relief won out. He nodded, and I helped him stand. His shirt was in tatters, so I draped my jacket over his shoulders. It fit like a tent, but it was better than rags.

"Thank you!" he cried, wrapping my waist in a fierce hug.

I looked down at him, awkwardly patting his head. "C’mon kid, let’s go home."

I carefully peeled him off my waist and we began the walk back to my townhouse. I tried to match his pace, a task made easier when he slipped his hand into mine. The evening rush had passed, and the streets were mostly deserted, but even so, it was a good half-hour before we mounted the steps to my humble abode.

Once inside, I led him to the kitchen, where I knew I had some leftover soup I could nuke. He attacked the bowl with vigor, verifying my theory that he hadn’t eaten for a while. He did stop for a moment when I went upstairs, but renewed his assault on the meal as soon as I returned.

I sat in my favorite chair in front of the TV, and exhaled deeply. It had been some time since I’d let loose like that, and the adrenaline crash could be murder.

Jason stood over me, shifting from one foot to another in a movement every boy knows.. "Mister John? Where’s your bathroom?"

I pointed. "Down that way, behind the stairs."

He dashed off, and I turned the TV on, and began flipping through the channels. Mostly mindless pablum and talking heads, but I wasn’t really interested anyway. There was a story behind this kid, and I had a sinking suspicion it wasn’t a happy one.

Jason trotted back in. My nose twitched as I noted he’d shed his torn shirt and pants, and scrubbed the visible bits of his flesh. But what concerned me more was the fact I could see his ribs. He’d been on the street longer than I’d thought. With the dirt removed, I also noticed the sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks and shoulders, despite his dark hair.

He rubbed his eyes.

"Tired, sport?"

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Can we watch a movie?"

I thought for a bit. It was late, but it’s not like I was taking him to school in the morning. Most of my collection was a bit obscure (and violent) for a boy his age, but then I remembered one film I’d not watched in a while. I stood up, snagged the DVD from the rack, and as the horns started, Jason was introduced to a giant monster named Totoro.

I sank back into the chair and put my feet up. To my surprise, he climbed into my lap, lying back and treating my body like a lounge chair. I held him so he wouldn’t slip, and he wriggled as he felt my (admittedly, rather hairy) arms on his stomach. Then he did the oddest thing. He pulled my hands below his waist.

There wasn’t anything sexual about it. It seemed completely unconscious, like he was straightening his pants. I carefully avoided touching his crotch, and together we watched the film. At first, he was completely entranced, but by the dance scene, he’d drifted off into slumber.

I very carefully shifted my arms so as not to wake him, and carried him upstairs, gently placing him on the bed and covering him with a sheet. Then I turned off the light and went towards my room.

"Mister John?" he called quietly. I turned to see Jason sitting up in the dim light.

"Time to sleep, little man," I whispered.

"Can I sleep with you?"

I paused. I’d already risked a lot bringing him in to my home, and now a half-naked boy wanted to share my bed. Warning bells were ringing in my head, and I was about to refuse, when he spoke again.

"Please? I’m scared."

My heartstrings strangled my common sense, and I walked over and scooped him up. "OK, I’ll keep the bad things away tonight."

Jason snuggled my chest, and I knew I’d made the right choice. I carried him down the hall and plopped him in bed, stripping to my boxers in the darkness. He curled into a ball as I slipped in bed beside him, my back to his.

"Thank you, Mr. John," he whispered.

"Just call me John, lad."

"Thank you, Johnlad," he replied, giggling quietly. I rolled my eyes in the darkness, and we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke the next morning, I discovered that Jason had rolled during the night, and now was cuddled against my back with his arm wrapped around my chest. I very carefully eased my way out from under his arm, replacing my bulk with one of the larger pillows. My thoughts whirled in my head, as I tried to decide the next move.

But I simply couldn’t focus. Too much was happening too quickly. I needed to calm my mind, and there was one sure way to do that.

I crept downstairs and opened the door to the basement, letting it lock behind me as I turned on the lights. I bowed to the eikon and took the first step onto the Path of Theseus. As I circled, I let the patterns fill my conscious mind, soothing the torrent of thoughts. I was halfway through the 5th circuit when it happened.

"JOHN! JOHN!"

Jason’s scream pierced my calm, even through the closed door. I ran upstairs, plans and contingencies forming with every step.

As I threw the door open, I saw Jason standing in the middle of the room, shrieking my name. I ran toward him, and he wrapped me in the tightest hug yet.

"Are you OK? Did you hurt yourself?" I asked, checking his body with my hands.

The words spilled out in a torrent. "I woke up and you were gone, and I couldn’t find you and I thought you’d left me or that you were a dream or that this was a dream or a nightmare and I’d wake up back there and…"

He burst into tears. All I could was hold him. Finally, he stopped with a shuddering sob. I gently broke his grip so I could kneel down and face him.

"I am real, Jason. Real as anything. And I promise to make things right."

He wrapped his arms around my neck and started crying again. But this time, things seemed different. It sounded relieved, not fearful.

"Come on. Let’s get you something to eat."

I lifted him by his legs and carried him into the kitchen, where I poured him a bowl of Cheerios. Honey Nut. A personal favorite. I watched him eat for a while, and the perfect solution came to me.

"I’ll be right back, Jason. Just need to go grab my phone."

He stopped eating and watched as I trotted upstairs. Phone in hand (and pants on legs) I headed back down.

Jason watched me come back in, and picked up the spoon to start eating again.

I ran through my contacts to the Gs, and selected one of the entries. The phone started to ring.

"Grimaldi residence," a gruff voice answered, "Who is this?"

"Rock? It’s me. I’ve got a problem."

"Horse? What kind of trouble can even YOU get into this early on a Sunday?"

I gave him a quick rundown, ending with "and I think he’s been abused in some way. I thought maybe you could come by and give him a quick checkup."

The line was silent for a good minute. Then Rock spoke, in a quiet voice. "Is this another Malta? I know how you felt about-"

"No, not at all," I blurted. "But I can’t just turn him out onto the streets, and there’s got to be a reason why he’s so afraid."

The voice sighed, "John, paisano, you’ve always been crazy, but this time it’s a good crazy. Okay. I’ll stop by after church. "

I looked over at Jason, perched on a chair in his underwear and slurping a glass of juice.

"Do you have some clothes that might fit him? He doesn’t even have the shirt off his back anymore."

"Si, I think some of Dominic’s old clothes could fit. He’s grown since his last visit. "

"Thanks, Papa Rock. I owe you one."

Rock snorted, "You owe me more than one, Horseman. But this time, I think we’ll call it a gift."

Shortly before noon, the doorbell rang, and I let in a burly figure who would have made an excellent Santa Claus, if Santa had furry arms instead of sleeves, and an Italian accent. Doctor Rocco Grimaldi was one of the finest family practitioners in Orange County, and one of the few who still made house calls, despite (or, perhaps, because of) his semi-retirement.

But 20 years ago, 'Papa Rock' Grimaldi was one of the best drill sergeants in the Army, and had helped a young private control his temper, going from a wild kid to a seasoned warrior. And even now, I would trust him with my life.

He strode into the room, a medical kit in one hand, a tote bag in another. "<And here I am!> Where is the boy?"

I pointed to the half-dressed figure on the couch. Jason looked up with a mixture of curiosity and reluctance.

"<What an angry face!>. I’m just going to give you a check, va bene?"

Jason looked at me quizzically.

"He means, 'Okay'?" I replied.

Jason looked at him and nodded.

"Good boy. Let’s go upstairs to the bedroom. The light will be better there, and you won’t be embarrassed."

Jason shook his head. "I want John there."

Rock looked at me, and tilted his head. "John, you mind?"

I shrugged, "It’s fine by me. Just don’t get any blood on the sheets."

Jason threw me a sharp look.

"Kidding! I’m kidding."

He relaxed. "Piggyback?"

I nodded, and he clambered onto my back. Once upstairs, Rock slipped into full doctor mode, going through the full suite of poking and prodding. The only oddity was when he checked Jason’s lungs. When he went to place the stethoscope on his back, he paused, running a light finger across his back.

Save for that brief moment, he kept a running commentary of jokes, including the worst Donald Duck impression in history. I’d seen him make the most sullen child smile. Jason proved a tough nut to crack though. Throughout the checkup, he kept his eyes on me. When Rock asked him to strip completely, I offered to leave, but once again, Jason insisted.

Naturally, to save his embarrassment, I kept my eyes on his face.

"You are a brave boy, Jason." Rock smiled. "There is only one more thing to do. I need a tiny goccia of blood, to make sure you aren’t sick. Can you handle that?"

Jason nodded. "If John holds my hand."

I put deed to word, holding his right hand as Rock pricked the forefinger of the other with a pipette. Jason watched me the entire time.

"And finito! You did very well. There are some clothes in this bag that might fit you. Find something you like, while I talk to John."

Jason grabbed the bag and started digging, while Rock led me aside.

"I have two pieces of good news, Horse. The first is that he’s basically healthy, just malnourished. Keep feeding him well and he’ll be fine, physically."

"And the other?"

"I found no evidence of sexual abuse. I don’t know how long he was on the streets, but he managed to dodge the worst fate a runaway can have." He paused.

"I hear a ‘But’."

"You heard right. The boy was beaten, badly, more than a month ago. Whoever did it was smart enough not to leave noticeable scars. I could tell more with X-rays…"

"But that would reveal his location, probably to the person who beat him in the first place," I nodded.

"Got it in one, Horse. I’m going to take this blood sample to Tonio, see if we can find out where he’s from."

"He still with the LAPD?" I asked.

Rock smiled. "He’s a senior forensic specialist now."

"Always the proud papa," I grinned back.

I looked over at Jason, who had pulled together a simple outfit of black shorts and a plain T-shirt.

"Listen, Rock. I know it’s an imposition, but can you & Carla take him in? You two are the best parents I know."

Rock looked me in the eyes, and then, without warning, slapped me in the back of the head. I flinched, rubbing the sore spot.

"What was that for?"

"After all I taught you, you still miss the obvious. Look at the boy. What is he wearing?"

I looked again. "Black shorts, green T-shirt."

"And what are you wearing?"

I looked down. "Black pants, and a green T-shir-," I looked up.

"Finalmente! Light dawns." Rock looked me in the eyes, all humor gone. "Horse, someone put a lot of fear into that boy, and it’s taken root deep. The boy has found a protector, and he’s not going to feel safe without him. Carla & I could take him, but he’d be happier here."

"You’ve got a new mission, Horse. Can you handle it?"

I looked over again, "Jason, would you like to stay here a while?"

If metaphor was fact, the bright smile Jason gave in response would have been blinding. "Oh yes, please!"

I turned back to Rock.

"I accept"

Chapter 2

Jason and I walked Rock to the door. Before he left, Rock turned to me one more time, and said "Be careful, Horse. In these situations, it's very easy for someone to get hurt."

"You don't have to worry, Rock. I won't hurt him."

He smiled. "Who said I was talking about the ragazzo? I'll call if I find anything."

With that parting shot, he stepped out into the street, leaving me with nothing but questions.

And a new house-guest. Jason wormed his way under my arm. I looked down, patting him awkwardly.

"Let's grab some lunch, okay?"

"Var benny," he replied, grinning.

"Close enough."

We walked into the kitchen, where I performed the amazing culinary feat of making two PB&J sandwiches with milk.

Watching a young boy eat peanut butter was a fascinating experience. Jason's face made the most amazing contortions. That being said, I was sure my face was equally strange (albeit much cleaner). However, Jason's expression as he watched me was less amused than curious.

"What's up, little man?" I asked, putting down my glass.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

I nodded. "Anything. If I don't know the answer, I'll look it up for you."

"I heard the doctor call you Horse before he left. How come?"

"That is a long story. Go wash up and I'll tell you the whole story."

"'kay."

He dashed off to the bathroom, while I waited outside the door, both to ease his mind and because of where we were headed next. As he came out, I pointed to the door under the stairs.

"What I'm going to show you, Jason, is something I haven't shown anyone else in the world. It's a special place. Are you ready?"

He nodded, eyes wide. I unlocked the door and flipped the light switch.

Together, we descended into the naos, the shrine of the labyrinth. At the bottom step, I paused. The basement was almost as empty as when I'd found it, save for the decorated mats on the floor, and the picture on the far wall. I pointed to it.

"See that picture over there? That's called an eikon. We always bow to it before we step onto the mats."

Jason did so, with some confusion, and I followed suit. We walked onto the mat, and over to the picture.

"Do you know who this is?"

Jason wrinkled his nose in thought for a moment, then smiled. "Oh yeah, that's Chiron. He was in some books I read."

He'd pronounced the name with a soft C, like in 'cheese'.

"Close, kiddo, but it's pronounced Kyron".

Jason blinked. "Um… why does that sound famil'r?"

"It's my last name, remember?"

"Ohhh… so that's why."

I nodded.

He turned around. "But why is it down here? And what's all that stuff on the floor?"

"That's the complicated bit. Feel up for a story?"

Jason nodded. We sat on the floor, side by side.

"About eight years ago, I was in a very bad place, doing some not nice things. And I got hurt."

"Were you hurt bad?" he gasped.

"Yes and no. I wasn't injured, but I felt very sad. So sad I wanted to go away from everyone."

Jason gave me a quick hug.

"I left my friends, and started wandering. I ended up on this small island near Greece. It was so small, it didn't even have a real name. The people who lived on it simply called it Archiki, or Home.

On that island was an old man, named Asterion. When I met him, the very first thing he asked for was my name. And when I told him, he smiled, with a faraway look in his eyes. I'll never forget what he said:

'You have a very strange path ahead of you, son of Chiron, and I am honored to show you the first steps.'"

"Really?"

"Yep. Well, in Greek, anyway," I stood, and walked over to the beginning of the labyrinth. "He took me to a special cave, up in the hills, where this pattern was carved into the ground. And he told me to follow the maze to the center."

I began to walk the pattern. "The first time I tried, I got to about here, and fell onto my butt."

Jason giggled.

"I tried again, and fell again. Asterion made me step aside, and started walking himself."

I smiled at the memory, and continued to walk. "He made it look easy. This skinny old man, dancing like a butterfly. For the next nine months, I tried to walk the maze, over and over. I could make it farther and farther, by shifting my body in certain ways. And I found myself moving differently, thinking differently."

With a final spin, I stood at the center, and bowed.

"Finally, the day came when I could walk the entire thing without falling, every time. That night, Asterion told me it was time to go."

"How come?" Jason asked.

"That's what I asked him. And he told me that it was not my fate to walk alone. But that I would not truly understand until I earned my name. The next day I left, and headed back to the States. I tried to go back to my old job, but I couldn't look at it the same way. So, I bought this house, and built this copy of the maze."

Jason looked thoughtful. "Cuz it made you feel safe?"

I blinked. "I never looked at it like that. At first, it was to honor his teachings, and to help me remember. But you may be right. In the labyrinth, I feel I belong."

"Can I try?" Jason asked. I walked over, and helped him to his feet.

"Let's go."

For the rest of the day, we walked together. Jason tried hard to match my steps, and though he had the flexibility of youth, he often stumbled. I kept close, so I could catch him when he fell. In some of the later steps, I held him as he shifted his weight, reaching towards his goal.

Finally, exhausted and dripping with sweat, we collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"You did good today, Jason," I whispered, stroking his hair.

He looked up and gave a tired smile. "It was fun. Can we do it again t'morrow?"

"As much as you want. Hungry?"

"I'm starvin'. Can we have pizza?"

I sniffed the air. "Sure. But bath first. We're both stinky!"

Jason giggled, and I carried him upstairs.

"Can we take a bath together?" he murmured.

I carefully shook my head. "Sorry, sport. The tub isn't that big. You wouldn't have any room."

His face dropped. "Aw, OK. But can you help?"

I wanted to say no. But the look in his eyes melted my resolve.

To my surprise, Jason made much less of a mess than I'd expected. He seemed content to soak while I washed his hair.

"This is nice…" he purred. I couldn't disagree. Finally, scrubbed pink, he stepped out of the tub, and I dried him with an oversized towel. Then, I swatted him on the behind, and said "Go get dressed for bed, sport. I won't be long."

He paused, thinking something over, but left and walked up the stairs. I took a quick (and rather cold) shower, and pulled on a robe. I walked upstairs to grab some boxers, only to find Jason sitting naked on my bed, rummaging through the bag of clothes.

"Problem?"

"I can't find any shorts like yours. Only stupid kiddie underwear," he grumbled.

I remembered what Rock had said. "Tell you what. Wear them tonight, and I'll take you shopping for clothes and things tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal!" he beamed. jumping into my arms. He dashed back to the bag, and put on a pair of light blue briefs. Meanwhile, I pulled on some boxers and shed the robe.

Dinner was a quiet affair, mostly due to our mutual exhaustion. By silent agreement, we decided to make it an early night. This time, Jason simply crawled into my arms, snuggling against my chest.

I didn't really mind.

As we relaxed, Jason sleepily raised his head to look at me. "There's one thing I don't get."

"Hmm?"

"Why did that old guy have a picture of Chiron in the cave?"

I held him close, "He didn't, actually. He told me that the eikon was supposed to be an image of your patron beast. His was the Minotaur."

"I like Chiron better" Jason replied, cuddling close. "Much better."

The next day, as promised, we went shopping for clothes. As Rock had predicted, most of his choices matched things I wore, right down to the boxers, although the dressier clothing didn't match very well. I also picked up some workout shorts, in both our sizes, to wear while he learned the labyrinth.

We settled into a routine. Mornings were for chores (mostly laundry) and errands. At first, it felt a little weird having him along when I went out for groceries, but his enthusiasm was infectious, and I soon felt comfortable having him by my side.

Afternoons were devoted to training with the labyrinth. As the days passed, he didn't fall as often, but I always stuck close, just in case.

And nights were bath time, movies, and a well-earned sleep.

***

About two weeks passed in tranquility, until one day, my phone rang. I put away the last of the laundry, and picked up.

"Horse, I have some news about the boy."

His voice sounded odd. Not bad, just… odd.

"What is it?" I asked, my heart in my throat.

"It's better to show you than to tell you. Can you and Jason come up to our house for dinner this afternoon?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, Rock. One o'clock OK?"

"See you then."

I called Jason from the kitchen where he was drying dishes. "Hey kiddo, up for a road trip?  Doctor Grimaldi invited us up for dinner."

He stood in thought.

"If it helps, his wife is a GREAT cook. Especially her pasta."

Jason smiled. "Okay!"

After putting on our best (Jason needing help with his tie), we drove to the suburb where Rock lived. As we pulled up to the house, the unmistakable aroma of homemade marinara sauce filled our noses. Jason looked at me, and licked his lips.

"You better believe it," I grinned in reply.

As soon as we opened the door, we were hit by a wave of music. I bent down to give Rock's wife Carla (a deceptively strong woman) a kiss, and then stepped to one side. "Carla, this is Jason."

"Che bello ragazzo!" she cried, wrapping him in a motherly embrace. "But you are so skinny! Why don't you feed him, John?"

"He's already eating me out of house and home."

"No matter. We get some pasta in you, okay?"

Jason's somewhat muffled voice replied "Va bene." At this, Carla laughed, and gave him a big kiss.

I heard a familiar thudding, and braced for the inevitable impact.

"Zio John!" a small figure cried, launching himself into my arms.

"Dominic!" I cried, wrapping him in a hug. "I thought you were living in Nevada now."

The curly-haired moppet shook his head. "I'm staying with Grampa Rock for a while. Isn't it cool?"

I looked over to Rock.

"Luca and Marie are having trouble. They asked Carla & I to watch him while they worked things out."

I put Dom down. and ruffled his hair. "You've grown since I saw you last."

"Uh-huh!" he nodded, bobbing his head. "A whole two inches! But come on, let's eat!"

We moved into the dining room. Rock's daughter Diana, who'd recently passed the bar exam, was at my left. Jason sat on my right. Dominic was supposed to sit next to him, but during the latter half of the meal, crawled onto my lap.

The food, as always, was excellent. Jason didn't have much of an appetite, though, and picked at his food quietly.

I leaned over, as Dom reached for another meatball. "You OK, sport?"

He shrugged, and kept fiddling with a stringbean. Too much too soon, I guessed.

Finally, after coffee, Rock tapped me on the shoulder. "It's time."

I put Dominic off my lap, and stood. Jason looked up at me with the oddest expression.

"Grown-up stuff, kiddo. I won't be gone long."

He shrugged again. Carla spoke up.

"Dominic! Take Iasone into the soggiorno and play a game, okay?"

Dom bounced "Sure! I just got a new racing game! We can play it together! C'mon!"

He half-led, half dragged Jason to the back of the house. Rock gathered me with a look, and we went to his study. There, he pulled out a stack of envelopes.

"Tonio had the DNA lab rush the tests. As I expected, there was a hit in the runaway database, out of Sacramento. Jason is a ward of the state, and ran away from a group home there three months ago."

I nodded, having figured as much.

Rock's voice turned odd again. "What I didn't expect was a hit on the US Army database. There were enough markers to positively ID his father."

"There's more, isn't it."

He nodded, somberly, passing me one of the envelopes. "Here's his birth certificate."

I opened it. "Jason Harold Quinn, born April 1. Normal weight, normal size."

"Look at the parents"

"Father: Michael T. Qui-."

I felt my knees buckle. "Mighty's son. Jason is Mighty Quinn's son. But if Jason was an orphan"

Rock put a hand on my shoulder. "Car accident, over seven years ago. Jason was thrown clear, but Mike and Rose died at the hospital."

I sat in shock. Mike Quinn had been my closest friend in Basic. We served together in Desert Storm. I proposed the first toast at his wedding, and bought him the first beer when he found out he was going to be a father.

Hell. I would have been at Jason's birth, had I not recently been recruited by the Hunt. And after that, we'd simply grown apart.

Tears welled in my eyes.

Rock passed me a small glass filled with a pungent green liquid. "You look like you could use this."

I pushed it away. "I wish I did drink, but I don't. Thanks for the offer though."

There was a crash, and some high-pitched screaming.

I jumped to my feet, and followed Rock out the door.

The scene in the sunroom was one of mild carnage. The game stand had been knocked over, and Jason & Dominic were fighting on the ground. The screams were Jason's.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" he cried, swinging wildly.

Rock took a deep breath. "BASTA!"

The boys stopped, stunned by sheer volume. I reached over and pulled Jason off of Dominic. His shirt was torn, and Dominic had a split lip.

"What happened!" I shouted, louder than I'd planned. Jason shrank back, eyes fearful.

I took a deep breath, and looked him in the eyes. "This isn't like you at all, Jason. What's wrong?"

"You like Dom'nic better than me, cuz he's cuter! You smiled at him, and you gave him a hug, and you let him sit on you lap, and now you are going to make me go away!"

He burst into tears. All I could do was hold him close, stroking his hair.

"Shhh… it's all right. Dominic is a cute boy, but you are something special. Why would you think I would ever kick you out!"

"B-because that's what h-happened before!" he sobbed.

I looked up at Rock. "I think we need to have a talk."

We straightened up the game stand, and stepped into the living room. There, I sat down in one of the large recliners, and motioned to a quiet Jason.

He slowly walked over, with an unsure gait. When he got close enough, I pulled him onto my lap.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, but responded "Nuh-uh, but I think I hafta."

"When you are ready," I whispered in his ear. Rock sat in the other chair, while Dominic sprawled on the floor.

We waited, while the mantle clock ticked. Finally, Jason began to speak.

"I've been in the system as long as I can 'member. I went from one group home to 'nother, but never found a real family. The last place I was in was supposed to be special. The guy in charge was a doctor…"

He motioned to Rock in the chair. "Not like Mr. Rock, but a perfessor or somethin'. He had a lot of rules we had to follow, like coming straight home from school, and going to bed at 7:00. Most of the kids he had were older, and tended to get into trouble. None of them talked to me, and I couldn't bring any kids from school over, so I didn't have any real friends."

Dominic scooted a bit closer.

"There was one kid I talked to online a lot. He was an orphan too." Jason smiled a tiny bit, showing just a flash of his old self. "He used a lot of bad words, but I liked him. Then he got 'dopted by someone, and went away."

He took a deep breath. "Everything changed at the beginning of this summer. Dr. Rogers got a new foster kid named Brian, who was a little younger than me. He told me to teach Brian the rules, and make sure he followed them."

"We hung out a lot, talking and playing games. We even made up a new one, called the Kissing Game."

I looked down at him. "What was that?"

"One person pointed to a spot on his body, and the other person had to kiss it. Then the other person got to point."

I nodded, and Jason continued.

"One day, we were playing in the garage, cuz it was too hot outside, and Brian wanted to play the kissing game again. We started in th' usual spots. Forehead, ears, elbows. Then Brian pointed to his lips, and I liked that. So I pointed to mine, and he kissed me back.

It was hot, so we took off our shirts, and kept playin. Brian pointed to his lips again, and I was about to kiss them, when Dr. Rogers came in. He got really mad, and told us to get dressed and meet him in his office. He started yelling at me, saying I had the devil in me, and I was spoiling his little angel. Then he started hitting me, while Brian watched."

I tensed, fists clenched.

"He said I was a hopeless cause, and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the front room. He said that he'd never have a slot like me living in his house, and pushed me out the door. I could hear Brian crying, but he wouldn't let me back in. All I could do was walk away."

I hugged him tight.

"I had a little money left over from school, so I went to the bus station and bought a ticket for the very next bus. It brought me here. A couple of older kids tried to show me the ropes, but I wasn't any good at beggin', and one girl told me to stay away from husslin'. So I lived on the streets, by myself, eating what I could."

He looked up at me, eyes shining. "Then you saved me, and it got better."

I kissed him on the forehead. "It will get better still, I promise. But first, I think you have to tell Dominic something."

Jason nodded, and slid off my lap. He stood over Dominic, who got up and faced him.

"I 'pologize for hitting you. I was bad." He held out a hand. "Friends?"

Dominic ignored the hand, going straight for a hug. "Amici!"

I got up, and walked over to the sideboard, where a bunch of framed photos sat.

"Jason, I want to show you something." He walked over, Dominic close behind.

I picked up a faded photo of two soldiers, mugging for the camera. "See these guys?"

Jason nodded.

"The one on the right is me, when I was just out of school."

I inhaled, gathering courage. "The smart-looking one was my best friend. And your father."

Jason's eyes opened wide as he stared at the photograph.

"Your father was like a brother to me, for a very long time. In my mind, that makes me your uncle."

Jason grabbed me around the waist, tears flowing. "C-can I call you Uncle John?"

I nodded, rubbing his back.

"Hey!" Dominic shouted.

We both turned to look at him.

"If he's your nipote, and you're my zio, that makes us cousins!"

I shrugged. "In a way, I guess."

He grabbed Jason by the arm and kissed his cheek. "Welcome to the family, cugino."

Jason started bawling, but there was joy in his eyes. I looked over to Rock.

"We have to make this work, old friend."

Rock nodded. It was time to go to battle.

Chapter 3

The first sortie in 'Operation: Argonaut' was, happily, the easiest. Rock reported to Children & Family Services that Jason had been found, but had to be kept under strict medical observation due to trauma suffered during his ordeal. He then turned around and ordered that I monitor Jason's condition, 24/7, to ensure his safety. The CFS bought it, amazingly enough. In retrospect, Rock probably called in a few favors, but I wasn't one to complain. Particularly since it gave me more chances to watch Jason smile.

The next step was trickier. I filed paperwork to become Jason's legal guardian, and began a campaign to prove that I could do the job well. The entire Grimaldi clan pitched in to help, having unofficially adopted him anyway.

Diana agreed to be our attorney. The twins, Pietro & Paulo, tore apart the net looking for new angles and loopholes we could use to strengthen my case. Mario, Rocco's eldest, suggested that a home-schooling curriculum would show my dedication to Jason's well being. And Dominic visited several times, to offer moral support (or, as he put it, "Extra hugs!").

Eventually, to simplify matters (and give Rock a break) I offered to let Dom stay overnight in my spare room. That night, I had TWO energetic boys crowding my bed. And Dominic snored.

Weeks passed, and we gathered our weapons. When the CFS investigator came to call, we were prepared, and showed him Jason's 'bedroom', now festooned with posters and pictures, as well as a brand-new laptop. I showed him the entire house, except for the basement, as I had managed to 'lose the key'.

Things came to a head, soon enough. One Tuesday evening, I was looking over a lesson plan from a group home in Texas when Diana came to visit. Jason & Dominic lay on the floor, playing a video game on the TV.

"I've got good news & bad news," she muttered.

"Better give me the good news first," I replied, though my heart was pounding.

"The hearing has been scheduled for next Monday. Judge Sankaran will be sitting on the bench. She's tough, but fair."

"Finally!" I cried, breathing a sigh of relief. "But?"

Diana shuffled some papers. "The head of Jason's last home, one Britt Rogers PhD, has also filed papers, stating that custody should revert to him, as Jason is still a ward of the state."

"What?" I screamed, causing the boys to look up. I took a deep breath, and continued more quietly. "That bastard threw him out into the streets, and he has the gall to want him back?"

Diana nodded. "Papa thinks it's because of the stipend group home managers get per child."

My blood turned cold. "I won't let him do it. Nobody is taking my boy away from me."

"Unfortunately, they have a good argument, since you don't work, and aren't even married."

"Is that all?" I smiled, fire dancing in my eyes. "Then they are in for a big surprise."

Diana looked at me quizzically. "I don't know what you are up to, and I'm not sure I want to. Just promise me that it's legal."

"Completely," I responded, my grin turning nasty. "It's just a phone call."

"I was right. I don't want to know. In any case, the twins are chasing something down that could help. I hope I hear back from them in time."

Now it was my turn to look confused. She smiled, and kissed me on the cheek.

"You aren't the only one who knows how to be sneaky. Get some rest. It will be all over soon."

I walked to the door and watched her leave.

The next few days were a blur. I made my phone call, and requested express shipment. Rock and I took Jason to the hospital, for a comprehensive checkup. And I counted the hours.

Neither Jason nor I slept very well the night before the hearing. We held each other all night, knowing it might be our last. The following morning, we dressed in our finest suits, and waited for Diana's car. I held my old briefcase in one hand, Jason's hand in the other.

My mouth was dry, and my stomach appeared to be hosting the annual monarch butterfly migration. I felt Jason squeeze my hand. I turned to face him.

"Whatever happens, Jason, I'll always be your Uncle John."

"I know," he muttered. "I jus' wish it was over."

"You and me both, kiddo."

We sat in the courtroom, nerves twitching. Diana leaned over and whispered "the twins came through. I have a secret weapon," I popped open the case, pulling out some documents and a plainly wrapped rectangle, which I placed on the papers. "So do I."

"Here Ye, Here Ye, the Family Court is now in session. The Honorable Puja Sankaran presiding. All those having business before this court should appear now and ye shall be heard!"

A matronly Indian woman sat down at the bench, "You may be seated. Jack, what's the first case on the docket?"

The bailiff walked over. "Your honor, The first case is CFS v. Chiron. A petition for legal guardianship."

Judge Sankaran put on her glasses. "Is Mr. Chiron here?"

I stood. "I am, your honor."

"And the advocate for CFS?" A thin, sour looking man stood at the other table, and gave his assent. Beside him, a stern man with slicked back hair sat.

"I see that the boy's official guardian is also present."

Slick stood. "I have the honor to be so," he intoned in a stuffy voice. This could only be Dr. Rogers. watched him closely, picturing ways I could break his neck.

Sankaran turned first to the CFS representative. In a thin, reedy voice, he described my living situation as 'adequate', and indicated that my plan to home-school Jason was 'sufficiently detailed'.

Rogers raised a hand. "May I interject, your honor?"

"Make it brief, Doctor."

Rogers began to pace back and forth, "As you may be aware, I have had a long career raising boys in the service of the state. I have taught them discipline, and respect. My heart bled when young Jay left us. And I only felt at peace when I heard he was found. Please, let me show him the benefit of my long years of experience."

He lowered his head in apparent sorrow, but I caught the edge of a malicious grin. I tapped one of the papers, and Diana nodded.

She stood, "Diana Rinaldo, Mr. Chiron's counsel. Your honor, I would like to show you this medical report. It shows clearly that Jason Quinn has been severely beaten. Forensic analysis, provided by the LAPD, indicates that the injuries occurred during the period in which he was in Dr. Rogers' care."

I gave Rogers my shiniest grin, as he spluttered denials. The judge looked over the papers carefully.

"This report is quite damning, Doctor. Do you have any evidence in your favor?"

Rogers spoke quickly. "Only that boys do get injured. I recall now that he suffered a bad fall some months ago, but there was no visible damage, so I did not think it worthy of notice."

"That's not true! He hit me!" Jason blurted out.

The judge lowered her glasses. "Young man, I do not allow outbursts of this sort. Do you wish to make a statement?"

Jason nodded. "Yes ma'am."

She sighed. "Jack, escort this young man to my chambers. I will interview him there."

"Ma'am?" Jason spoke up, as the bailiff took his hand. "Can Uncle John come?"

She shook her head. "That will not be allowed. He will remain here."

The next 25 minutes (and 19 seconds) were the longest in my life. Finally, they returned to the courtroom. Jason showed signs of tears, and Judge Sankaran looked shaken. I patted his shoulder as he returned to his seat.

"Bailiffs, please take Doctor Rogers into custody, on charges of child abuse and neglect. Furthermore, his license to provide foster care is now suspended, and all minors in his care will be relocated."

"NO!" Rogers roared. "I don't care about the devil child, but you can't take my angel from me!"

Sankaran stared at him coldly. "Get him out of my sight."

"You will pay for this, Horseman! Yes, I know who you are!"

I blinked. Then I looked him straight in the eyes. "You hurt my boy. Bring it."

He charged, but the bailiffs separated us. Finally, things settled back down.

The judge turned to look at me. "Mr. Chiron, I spoke with young Jason at some length, and it is clear that he wants to continue to live with you. But despite Dr. Rogers' lies, I still have misgivings. The first is with regards to your finances. Mr. Elliot, what were you able to determine?"

The CFS rep stood. "While Mr. Chiron has no outstanding debts, and has regularly filed income tax returns for the last several years, we were unable to discover his exact net worth, as he draws income from an offshore investment account."

She turned to me. "Mr. Chiron, can you prove your source of income is stable?"

"I can, your honor. With this," I picked up the weight, grunting ever so slightly. With my other hand, I peeled off the wrapper, allowing the shining metal within to reflect the light.

"According to this morning's paper, this bar is worth $653,741.89. And it has several siblings, in a vault in Zürich."

For a moment, the judge was speechless. She motioned for the bailiff to bring the bar to the bench, and studied it closely.

"I withdraw my comment. Your argument is very persuasive. I am still concerned with your lack of experience, however."

I could only shrug. "I am willing to learn."

Suddenly, Diana stood. "Your honor, this line of questioning is irrelevant. Mr. Chiron has the consent of the boy's parents."

"Whatever do you mean, counselor? His parents are clearly unable to give consent, unless you mean to bring in some kind of psychic."

Diana smiled. "Hardly."

She drew a paper from her case. "This is the baptismal certificate for the newborn Jason Quinn. While the godparent in attendance was a Padraig O'Malley, the document clearly indicates he was acting as proxy for one John Chiron."

My jaw dropped. Jason was my godson.

"In both canon & civil law, a godparent's duties include both mentoring the infants spiritual development, but also to act in loco parentis in case of the parents' premature demise. Hence, as a legal document signed in the presence of witnesses, it clearly indicates parental desires in this matter."

Judge Sankaran smiled broadly. "Smartly done, counselor. Please see me in my chambers after the session concludes. I may have a job for you."

She banged her gavel. "The petion is approved. Congratulations, Mr. Chiron."

I whooped, and Jason jumped into my arms. I squuezed him tight.

"Told you I'd never let you go," I murmured, kissing him on the forehead.

Jason and I slept like logs that night, content to merely rest in each others arms. And life was good.

***

Now that his situation was legal, we were able to relax. I had the local school department test Jason's mental development, and to my surprise (and joy) Jason qualified for middle school classes. I immediately began to winnow down home-schooling plans.

On another front, Jason's skill at the labyrinth increased by leaps and bounds, particularly when Dominic joined in our lessons. His natural athleticism pushed Jason to try harder, and he soon mastered the final steps.

It was Hallowe'en time. Jason was going to a party with Dominic, and was going to sleep over at the Grimaldi's afterwards. I helped him put on his Greek warrior costume (Dominic was a zombie) and handed him over to Rock's care.

The house was very empty. I turned on the TV and stared blankly at some sort of reality show. I didn't know which, and I didn't care.

The phone bleeped. I immediately grabbed it and answered "What's wrong?"

There was a dry chuckle on the other end. "A most unusual way to answer the phone. Mr. Chiron, this is Judge Sankaran. "

"My apologies, your Honor. Jason is having his first sleepover, and…"

"I understand completely," she replied, in a kind tone. "I raised four boys myself. And to answer your question, there is nothing wrong. Indeed, you might say that I hope to make things even more right."

"I don't understand."

Her voice grew serious. "This is not something I wish to discuss over the phone. Please visit my office on Wednesday morning, and bring your foster son along. It concerns you both."

"Of course. I owe you so much."

"Then I'm calling in my marker. Be there at 9:30."

I gave my assent and disconnected the line.

The next morning, my senses were on overload, listening for the sound of a car. Every nerve was twitching, and on a hair trigger. When I heard the slight crunch of the gravel on the front walk, I dashed up and pulled open the door. There he stood, hand raised to knock.

"Uncle John!"

I grabbed him up in a hug. "Welcome home, sport. did you have fun?"

He squeezed back. "They had candy, and games, and Dominic & I stayed up all NIGHT."

He looked up at me. "But I missed you. A lot."

"Me too, son," I replied, voice thick. "Me too."

On Wednesday morning, we arrived at the courthouse at promptly 9:27. Diana, who was now the judge's chief clerk, greeted us with a kiss. "She's waiting for you."

Jason & I walked past a grandfatherly black man, sitting comfortably in a chair, and stepped into her office, a surprisingly warm room with the slightest scent of incense. The judge stood, and extended her hand. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Chiron."

"Please, call me John," I replied.

"Only if you call me Puja. And how are you today, young man?"

"I'm okay, ma'am. Just feeling a little icky."

She looked up at me.

I grinned "He overindulged at a Halloween party Monday night. It came back to haunt him yesterday."

She laughed, heartily. "An important lesson for a growing boy. Please, have a seat."

I took one of the chairs, and Jason perched on one of it's arms.

Puja picked up a paper. "As you may recall, Dr. Rogers is now in custody, and we are beginning the process of assigning the wards under his care to new homes. Most of them are younger teens, and can be easily placed in various facilities. But there is one exception."

She passed me a photograph of a cherubic young boy with longish blond hair.

"Brian!" Jason cried out.

"I thought as much. Brian Nordquist, age 10. Normally, we would have simply send him to another foster home, but based on Jason's statement at the hearing, and certain other issues, I thought it might be best if I assign him to your care."

I looked at her. "Other issues?"

She nodded, pressing a button on her desk. "Diana, could you show Dr. Deacon in? And please watch Jason for a few minutes."

Jason looked at me. "Grownup stuff?"

"I think so, son," I nodded. "It's OK."

Jason stepped outside, looking back at me, as the African gentlemen entered the office, sitting in the other chair.

"John? This is Dr. Jerome Deacon, one of the CFS psychologists. Jerome, please tell John what you told me."

I reached over to shake his hand, and he grasped it in a firm grip.

"I only wish it had been under better circumstances," he replied. I looked at him quizzically.

"After what happened with your foster son, we made sure to give young Brian a full physical evaluation."

Jerome took off his glasses, and pinched his nose. "While we found no evidence of physical abuse, there was ample evidence that the boy had been abused sexually over a long period. The physical damage was not severe, but the emotional trauma may take years to recover from."

My hands clenched the arms of the chair, and the beast stirred. "How can I help."

Jerome glanced at Puja, who smiled. "You owe me $20, old man."

He turned to me. "I have agreed to act as his therapist, but I truly believe that his progress would improve if he had a stable, loving environment. I saw how much you care for your boy, and I know you will care for him as well. His friendship with Jason should help, also."

Puja spoke up. "Will you agree to take him as your ward?"

I stood, and gave a quick bow. "You honor me. Of course, I accept this reponsibility."

They both stood, and shook my hand. Puja motioned to the door. "Let's collect young Jason and his new foster brother."

Jason stood as we approached. "Is everything OK?"

"More than that, sport. Brian is coming to live with us."

"Really?" he cried, eyes wide. "Let's go!"

We followed the judge down the hall, Jason dragging me along. She opened a door to a small room, where a young boy in an oversized hoodie sat in a chair and stared at the floor.

"Brian?" she whispered, carefully touching him on the shoulder. "I have someone here to see you."

Jason ran to him and tried to give him a hug. Brian pulled back, stumbling out of his chair. Jason turned to me in confusion.

"Uncle John? Somethin's wrong."

Jerome whispered in my ear. "Brian has a developed a severe case of aphephobia [fear of touching or of being touched], as well as trust issues."

I walked over to the boys. Jason looked to be on the verge of tears, and Brian now sat on the ground, head buried in his knees.

"Brian?" I whispered very quietly. "My name is John, and I'm Jason's foster father. Do you remember him?"

He looked up at me, and I saw his face clearly for the first time. The cherubic youngster had been replaced by a blank expression with dead eyes.

"Yes," he stated, dully. "I know Jason."

My heart broke. "The pain is over. I've come to take you home."

Chapter 4

The drive home was somber. Jason slumped beside me in the passenger seat, lost in thought. Brian sat in the back seat by himself, barely moving. Finally, in an attempt to fill the silence, I turned the radio onto the classic rock station.

I saw a flicker of movement in the rear view mirror, as Brian swayed to the music. And it gave me an idea.

"Boys, I have a stop to make before we head home. I won't be long," I pulled into the local Best Buy. "Jason, watch Brian for a minute."

Jason looked at me in confusion. I grinned at him, "I have a plan."

Not five minutes later, I returned, a blue bag in my hand.

We pulled into my parking space, and I carried Brian's bag into the house, pointing out the salient features.

Brian walked behind me, barely noticing his surroundings, and Jason followed. We trooped upstairs, where I showed him the guest bedroom. We'd stripped the facade of posters from the walls, but the laptop remained.

"This is your room now, Brian. You can do whatever you want in here."

"Yes, sir," he stated, walking to the bed, and sitting down. I sat beside him, far enough to not touch, and opened the bag.

"When Jason came to stay, I took him shopping for clothes and stuff. You already have clothes, so I bought you this."

I pulled out two small boxes, containing a small ipod and a wrist strap. "This is yours. You can put all the songs you want on it."

I placed it on the bed within reach. "Welcome home, Brian."

I motioned to Jason, and we left the room.

"Uncle Jason?" he asked thoughtfully.

I turned to him, "I'll get you one for Christmas. Brian needs it more than you do, right now."

Jason shook his head. "It's not that. Is it OK if I sleep with Brian tonight, if I don't touch him?"

"It's up to him. If he says it's okay, you can."

Dinner was a quieter affair than usual, and I noted that when the time came to take a bath, Brian took his clean underwear and PJ's with him, and locked the door to the bathroom.

Jason walked up to him very slowly, and said. "Brian? Wanna pretend it's a sleepover? I won't touch you or anything. We can hang out like we used to."

Brian looked at him dully. "Okay."

Jason turned to me, and I nodded slightly.

"Cool! I'll help set up your iPod!"

I didn't mind sleeping alone that night, but kept my ears open for signs of trouble. Eventually, I dozed off. Around midnight, I felt Jason"s familiar weight climb into bed.

"Something wrong, son?" I whispered blearily.

He sniffled a bit. "Brian isn't there. I mean, his body is there, but he isn't himself."

I cuddled him close. "He's in there, but he's buried deep. Dr. Jerome is going to help him, and so are we."

"I h'pe so" Jason replied, blurrily. I held him close as we slept.

In some ways, Brian was the perfect foster child. He was unceasingly polite, and always performed his assigned chores without complaint. He never raised his voice, never caused any trouble. If he wasn't eating or helping around the house, he was up in his room, listening to music.

He also never laughed. He never cried. He simply drifted through the day like a robot, instead of a 10-year old boy.

Twice a week, I drove him to Dr. Deacon's office for his therapy sessions. I wasn't experienced enough to tell if they were working, but I thought I sensed some frustration in Jerome's body language. He truly wanted to help him. We both did. We just didn't know how. And I feared we never would.

There was one incident, however, that changed my mind. Jason & I had been working on the Labyrinth, and as we walked upstairs something tickled the edge of my awareness. I hushed Jason, quietly opened the door, and concentrated.

A high pitched voice was singing, and while I could not make out the words, the tone was both heartbreaking and beautiful. I listened for a moment longer, and then closed the door with an audible click.

The voice stopped singing, and when we went upstairs to wash up & change, Brian was at his usual seat on his bed. I looked at him thoughtfully, and knew there was hope.

Even this silver lining had a gray cloud attached, as Jason's personality began to change. He became very quiet, and less affectionate. Wrapped up in Brian's issues, I barely noticed.

Things came to a head in mid-November. I was sitting in my favorite chair, reading a battered old paperback, when Jason walked in, a sober expression on his face.

"Uncle John?" he whispered.

I put down the book, "Yes, sport?"

"Do you still like me?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do. I care about you a lot."

"B-but we never hang out like we useta. You're always driving somewhere, or lookin' up stuff online, or fillin' out papers. I miss you." He burst into tears. My heart broke.

I opened my arms, and he crawled into my lap. "I'm so sorry, Jason. I didn't realize. I'll make it better, I promise."

He sniffled, "You mean it?"

"Scout's honor."

The promise was easier said than done. At Brian's next session, I talked to Jerome about it.

"I've seen this before, John," he murmured kindly. "The siblings of children with special needs often feel neglected. The only real way to undo that is to dedicate time to them, make them feel special. Have you considered taking a vacation?"

I shook my head. "I couldn't. Someone has to watch Brian, and I don't want to disrupt the work you are doing."

He shook his head solemnly. "Treating the family is equally important. It does no good to help Brian, if young Jason is damaged in return."

Jerome took off his glasses. "I'm not suggesting a two-week trip to Hawaii. But a long weekend? That will do him a load of good."

He made far too much sense. My mind started whirling. "But who would watch Brian?"

"What about Dr. Grimaldi's family? I've worked with him before, and he still maintains his caregiver's license."

I thought about it. Rock knew about Brian's issues, and he and Carla were the kindest couple I knew. In retrospect, it was the obvious answer. I thanked Jerome, and left.

That night, I made the call. Rock didn't even hesitate to agree. In fact, he wasn't even surprised.

"I've been expecting this, Horse," he said, thoughtfully. "Actually, I was wondering what was keeping you. I taught you better than that."

"I know. I feel horrible about it."

"Que sera, sera. Now you have to fix it. Carla and I will watch the boy."

That night, after dinner, I pulled Jason onto my lap for a cuddle. He was a little tense, but cuddled back.

"Jason, how'd you like to take a trip?"

He looked up at me, startled, "You are sending me away?"

"Shhh… no," I murmured holding him close. "I would never do that. I mean both of us."

"Wha' about Brian?" he mumbled, head buried in my chest.

"Papa Rock will take care of him. It'll be just you and me, just like before."

He gave me the cutest puppydog look. "I'd like that. I really would."

I considered and rejected various options, including the Mouse, but I decided the simplest solution was the best, and booked a four night stay at a nearby resort. When I told Jason about it, his eyes grew as wide as saucers, and he hugged me tight.

As we drove to the Grimaldi house, Brian was his usual uncommunicative self, earbuds stick in his ears. I parked the car, opening the door for him. A subdued Rock & Carla waited at their front door.

And then I heard the thumping.

"Cugino!"

"Dominic, no!" I cried, but it was too late. He'd tackled Brian, giving him a big hug.

I've never heard a louder scream.  Brian pushed Dom away, and huddled into a fetal position, shuddering. It was frightening to watch, but also the first emotion I'd seen from him. I waved everyone else away, and knelt by his side.

"It's okay, he isn't going to hurt you. He just got excited."

I was torn. My every instinct was to hold him until the pain went away, but I also knew that holding him would cause more pain. All I could to was talk quietly to him until he calmed down, and walk with him into the house.

Rock called me over with a gesture. "Sorry, Horse. I told him the boy was skittish, but Dom has his own mind."

"I should bring him home. Forget the whole thing."

He shook his head. "You need to take care of both of your boys. Jason needs you now. We'll take care of Brian, even if I have to put Dominic on a leash."

I snorted, "Leg irons wouldn't stop him. I'm not sure a steel vault would."

We returned to the others. Jason was whispering something to Dominic, while Carla kept a careful eye on them. Brian had turned back into the robot. I knelt in front of him, and carefully laid a piece of paper on his lap.

"This is my cell number, son. If you ever need me, call. Any time, day or night."

Brian took the paper and looked up at me. There was something in his eyes, but I couldn't tell what. Still, it was something.

The hotel was the fanciest in the area. Jason stared in amazement as we walked into the wood-paneled lobby. At the desk, the young receptionist seemed perturbed.

"My apologies, Mr. Shirron, but there seems to have been some sort of mixup with the travel agent. You asked for the finest room we had, and we hence assigned you the Presidential Suite. But we assumed that you were traveling as a couple, not with a child, and there's only one bed. Would you like to be assigned a different room?"

I winked at Jason, and he grinned slyly. "Oh no, I would not want to be a bother. We will just have to make do."

Luxury accommodations, and my boy to share them with. How could I possibly refuse?

A bellhop picked up our bags, and led us to the elevator. We entered the suite, and both Jason and I gaped in amazement. I wasn't sure, but it may have actually been larger than my house. I tipped the bellhop, and we entered the bedroom. Jason immediately jumped on the bed.

"It's HUGE, Uncle John! You could fit an army on this!"

"I'd settle for just one godson, thanks. Hang on for a second."

I stepped to entryway and called Rock. He picked up on the second ring. "Everything's fine, Horse. There hasn't been another incident."

"You could at least let me ask the question first, Rock."

"I know you, Horse. And you need to focus on Jason now. We'll be fine. Call us when you get back."

The line disconnected. I'd been given my orders.

Seeing the smile on Jason's face as he rolled on the bed, I decided they wouldn't be too hard to follow.

We'd checked in late, and Jason's stomach was growling, so we decided to grab a quick supper from the room service menu. The selection was quite extensive, but once Jason spotted the PB&J, his mind was made up.

They were damned good sandwiches, though. The soda may have been a mistake, though, as Jason was soon bouncing off the walls. But they say pride goeth before a fall, and caffeine before a crash. Before I knew it, he was wobbling on his feet.

"Time to turn in, kiddo," I commanded.

Jason stumbled to the bedroom, leaving a ragged trail of clothes behind. I closed the shades and followed, noting him sprawled face-first on top of the sheets. I lay down next to him, and stroked his back

"'Thass nice," he mumbled into a pillow. Keep doin' it."

I gently stroked one finger down his spine, and watched him shiver, and visibly relax. He rolled over into my chest, and smiled sleepily. "I wanna stay like this forever."

I wrapped my arms around him, and we dozed off.

The next morning, I was the first to awaken. The bed was incredibly comfortable, and I was content to vegetate for a bit

Shortly thereafter, Jason awoke. "Mornin'" he yawned.

"Morning, son," I responded, kissing his forehead. "Sleep well?"

He wriggled. "I had happy dreams. I don't 'member them, but hey were happy."

"Good," I swatted his behind. "Now go put on some clothes, and we'll go down to breakfast."

We hit the buffet. Jason was soon digging into a sizable stack of pancakes, while I was noshing on a quite tasty blueberry muffin.

"What do you want to do today, sport?" I asked.

He followed his current mouthful of cakey goodness with a swig of milk, and swallowed. "Dunno, Uncle John. What do you want to do?"

"It doesn't matter to me, as long as I get to do it with you." Jason smiled a syrupy grin.

"Does that mean no lessons today?"

"No lessons all trip. This is a vacation." His smile grew even wider.

A thought popped in my head. "We could always use the hotel pool. That sounds like fun?"

Jason's face fell suddenly.

"Something wrong, son?" I asked, concernedly.

"Uncle John? Can I tell you a secret?"

I nodded. Worries echoed in my mind.

He leant over, and whispered, "I don't know how to swim."

I snorted. "Don't feel embarrassed, son. I was twice your age when I learned. And I can teach you. Would you like that?"

He nodded. "B-but I don't have my swimsuit!"

"Well then," I smiled mischievously, "you'll just have to skinny-dip."

Jason flushed red, a look of horror on his face.

I laughed, ruffling his hair. "Just kidding, son. I'm sure they sell suits at the hotel."

Jason rolled his eyes. I had a feeling I'd pay later.

After a brief break to digest, we walked over to the concierge, and asked about swimwear. He pointed us towards a small shop on the 5th floor called 'Surfing Safari', and we took the elevator there.

Jason wandered the racks for a while. At first, he spent more time on the speedo racks, with an oddly speculative look on his face. But he eventually settled on a pair of bright blue board shorts, with a palm tree design. We made the purchase, and headed up to the room to change.

We headed down to the outdoor pool, Jason fidgeting nervously.

"Relax, son. It'll be OK."

We dumped our towels on a handy chair, and headed to the shallow end of the pool.

"Ok, Jason. The first step to swimming is to learn how to float. So I want you to lean back, and let your body relax. I'll be right here."

It took a couple of tries, but he soon got the hang of it, and was lying on the surface of the water, supported only by my hands on his thighs and upper back.

"That's right, now just let the water carry you," I murmured. He relaxed further, and I let the water take him, maintaining only the slightest touch to help his confidence.

Then I let go. His eyes grew wide, and he sank a bit into my waiting hands.

"Good! You did great!".

We worked on floating for a couple more hours, as the sun climbed in the sky. I was thinking of starting him on the backstroke, when he suddenly seized up, and started splashing.

"Owowowow! My leg!" he yowled.

"Cramp?" I asked.

"I g-guess so. Can we stop?"

I nodded, and helped him out of the water.

I sat on the lounge chair, and pulled him onto my lap so I could massage his leg. It took a few minutes, but he eventually relaxed.

"Want to go back in, sport?"

He shook his head. "Nah… It's so warm now… I kinda want to soak it up."

I looked for another chair, but they were all occupied, so I decided to make do. Stretching out the chair, I laid flat, letting Jason lie on top of me. Where our skin touched, I could feel goosebumps.

We lay like that for a while, eyes closed, soaking up the heat.

"Uncle John?" Jason whispered, dreamily.

"Yes?"

"Can we do this again tomorrow?"

"Anything, son," I kissed the top of his head, nose filled with the scent of chlorine.

"I love you, you know that?" I murmured.

"Me too," he replied.

The rest of the trip passed quickly. We spent most of it around the pool, and Jason proved to be a natural swimmer, picking up the basics with ease. I started thinking that a membership at a local pool would be good for him, and made a mental note to check them out.

When we checked out, Jason was as happy as I'd ever seen him, and I knew Jerome had been right all along. As soon as we reached the car, I gave Rock a call.

"We're heading back. How is everything going?" I asked. I could hear laughter in the background.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Come on over."

I looked at Jason, and he returned my baffled expression. We piled our bags into the trunk and drove away.

We pulled into the Grimaldi's driveway, and as I stepped out of the car, I could hear the laughter again.

This time, I could tell by the tone that it was Dominic… but he wasn't alone. I turned to Jason and we ran around the back of the house.

To my utter shock, Brian had Dominic in a headlock, and was rolling around with him on the grass. Rock sat watching them in amusement, a bottle of beer in one hand.

"W-what's going on?" I stammered.

"Well," Rock drawled, "Your boy is ahead 2 falls to 1. It looks like he's going to win."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. What happened?"

He pulled on his beer. "Damnedest thing. The first night, Dominic sat close to him, but was very careful not to touch him. A couple of times the next day, he brushed against him, but immediately apologized. It went on like this all day. A hand on the arm, A cheek on the shoulder during TV time. And the boy just got used to it."

"He was planning something, though. The day before yesterday, Dominic was idly stroking Brian's arm. The boy was nervous, but allowed it. Then my grandson pounced on him and started tickling."

I held my breath. "Brian screamed, but Dominic wouldn't stop. I was moving to pull them apart when I realized the boy was laughing. Hard. So hard he couldn't breathe. Then he started sobbing. Dominic held onto him until he stopped."

He drained the last of the beer. "The next day, Brian gave HIM a hug good morning. And they've been inseparable ever since."

My mind flashed to Jason & Dominic before we left. "I think we've been had, Rock. Dominic didn't plan this by himself."

"Jason? Could be. He's a smart ragazzo."

Brian pinned Dominic and shouted "One! Two! Three! I win!" He jumped up and made the noise of a roaring crowd. He saw me standing in shock and cried, "Uncle John! You're back! Wait one minute!"

He dashed into the house, Dominic right behind him. I turned to Jason, who's mouth was opening and closing as he struggled for words.

"Looks like your plan worked, son."

"B-but, I didn't think he'd change THAT much," he stuttered. "He looked a little interested when I helped set up his iPod, and I thought maybe we could give him a little push."

"You did the right thing, kiddo. I'm proud of you."

Carla walked out with two Cokes. "It's a miracolo, no? All day yesterday, he and Dominic were running around in circles in the backyard, stomping like bulls. And last night, he asked for Tonio's old chitarra."

True to her word, Brian came out lugging a battered old guitar, while Dominic held a chair. Brian sat down and looked me straight in the eyes, mischievously.

"This is for you, Uncle John." He started strumming a complicated melody. My jaw was getting used to dropping. Then he lifted his voice, and began to sing, in a quiet voice:

Climbing up on Solsbury Hill,
I could see the city light.
Wind was blowing, time stood still.
Eagle flew out of the night.

He was something to observe.
Came in close, I heard a voice.
Standing, stretching every nerve,
I had to listen, had no choice.

I did not believe the information.
Just had to trust imagination.
My heart was going boom, boom, boom.
'Son', he said, 'grab your things,
I've come to take you home.'

His tone changed, and he began to smile.

When illusion spin her net,
I'm never where I want to be.
And liberty, she pirouettes,
When I think that I am free.

Watched by empty silhouettes,
Who close their eyes but still can see.
No one taught them etiquette,
I will show another me.

Today, I don't need a replacement.
I'll tell them what the smile on my face meant.
My heart going boom, boom, boom.
'Hey,' I said 'You can keep my things,
they've come to take me home.'

He put down the guitar, walked over, and gave me a hug. "Thank you, Uncle John. You're my eagle."

I hugged him back. Brian had come home.

Chapter 5

After Brian's breakthrough, his therapy sessions became much more productive. Jerome insisted we continue them, as there were still things Brian was unwilling to confront. At home, we began the process of feeling things out, and discovering what Brian could handle. He still preferred to bathe in private, and did not like being touched by surprise.

I was gratified to know, however, that he no longer minded initiating contact, and most nights he joined Jason and I on the couch for cuddling and a movie. However, his more open emotions came with a price. When Judge Sankaran reported that Rogers had jumped bail and disappeared, Brian had nightmares for several nights in a row. One night, Jason even asked if he wanted to share our bed, at which he looked a bit wistful and said that he wasn't ready yet. Jason latched on that 'yet', and decided not to press. As time passed without incident, things soon settled down again.

Dominic proved to be the only person who could touch him unconditionally. When his parents relocated to the area to be closer to their relatives, their friendship deepened. Dominic slept over several nights a week, and he and Brian often played together in private.

(I had my suspicions about what kind of playing they did when I overheard Dominic whispering something to Brian one day about "il gioco di bacio". But they were still young, and I was pretty sure it was harmless.)

I expected Jason to join them, but he always chose to sleep with me instead of them. One night, I finally asked why.

We were cuddling in bed, listening to Dominic and Brian try vainly to hide their giggles. I nudged his shoulder and he looked up at me.

"Uncle John?"

I ruffled his hair. "How come you never join Dom & Brian in their games? Brian was your best friend for a long while."

Jason bit his lip in thought. "He was my friend. And he made me very happy. But now he's sorta my brother, right?"

"Yes, in a lot of ways," I nodded.

"Then I want to make sure that HE is happy. Dom'nic makes him happy. That's good enough for me."

I kissed his forehead. "How'd you get to be so wise?"

He kissed my neck. "I have the best teacher."

After a coordinated attack on his parents by all three boys, Dominic soon joined our home-schooling sessions. Thanks to the work I'd put in, it was easier than I expected to adapt my lesson plan to his needs. He struggled a bit in math, but proved to be a whiz at history.

I did make one exception to the lesson plan, as I'd not made allowances for Brian's musical talent. After some research, I found some self-led guitar courses, and allocated at least an hour a day to guitar practice. Tonio Grimaldi gladly donated his old acoustic to the cause. Brian also finally joined our labyrinth sessions, and proved to be a graceful mover. His real contribution, however, was a wrinkle I'd never even considered.

It was on Thanksgiving. While Rock had invited us to the Grimaldi dinner, I wanted our first holiday together as a family to be something special. Unanimously, all three of us decided that the thing we were most thankful for was each other, and we wanted to celebrate that. The food might not have been as good… to be honest, the turkey was dry, the potatoes lumpy, and the dressing a touch on the burnt side. But there was a lot of it, and we ate it together as a family, and that made it perfect.

I pushed the last piece of pie away from my plate. It was store-bought, and hence edible, but I was completely stuffed. Brian, on the other hand, had the metabolism of youth, and scarfed it down without taking a breath. I rolled my eyes and groaned.

"By the gods, I'm full. Anyone feel like a couple of rounds on the labyrinth, work this off?"

Jason poked his stomach. "I think I can handle it. Bri?"

Brian open his mouth, and emitted a world-class burp. It had both length and volume.

"I think not, bro. But I'll come down and watch."

We trooped downstairs, and bowed to the eikon, before Jason and I started the first circuit. Brian watched us for a few moments, but when I looped back around, I saw he'd left. I mentally shrugged, and continued. As Jason and I rounded the 5th turn, I heard the unmistakable sound of Brian's guitar. I was going to stop and ask him what he was up to, until I realized that the music he was making was in perfect tempo with our movements.

I had a flash of pride. All on his own, my son Brian had turned a physical challenge into a dance. Lifted by his music, Jason and I danced the rest of the way to the center. As we bowed, he applauded. Jason and I glanced at each other, and, without a word, returned the accolade.

***

Autumn turned to winter, and our lives continued peacefully. I started to believe that I'd finally found my path in life, as the happy father of two wonderful boys. And then, in a flash, everything changed.

It was the week before Christmas. I'd (successfully, I thought) managed to hide the boys' gifts, and was eager to spend my first Christmas with the boys. While Brian was indeed nestled all snug in his bed, I could make no claims to know what visions were dancing in his head. Although, Jason and I WERE settled down for a long winter's nap.

Sometime during that night, I had a dream. A dream of a misty forest, and a bridge over a river. In the distance, I could hear birds singing, and the wind in the leaves. I could even hear bees buzzing.

Actually, the buzzing was pretty loud. And something smelled wrong.

My eyes snapped open. The fire alarm was buzzing like mad, and I could clearly smell smoke.

"Jason! Wake up!" I shouted. He sat up with a start.

"Uncle John? What's that noise. And who is cooking?"

I spoke very carefully. "I think there's a fire. Stay very calm, I'm going to fetch Brian."

He scrabbled on the night-stand for something as I dashed to my feet. As I headed to Brian's room, I could see the flames spreading downstairs. I grabbed a large bathrobe and threw open his door.

Brian was sitting up, a look of alarm on his face. Smoke was starting to fill the room.

"Do you trust me?" I demanded. He nodded. I picked him up under my left arm, draping the robe over him, and started to run.

"Jason! Go limp!" I shouted. I scooped him up under my other arm, ducked my head, and threw myself at the bedroom window twisting in midair. As my left shoulder struck it, it shattered, and we fell through the air.

I landed hard, taking the full impact of the fall. Something in my left leg popped, and I collapsed.

"Go get help!" I groaned, letting go of my boys. Jason was the first to stand, but Brian soon followed. I hobbled to my feet, and turned to watch the carnage.

One of the boys screamed, and i felt a crash against my skull. I dropped to my knees, and someone grabbed me in a headlock.

"Remember me, sraka?" a thickly accented voice snarled in my ear. A bloody face flashed in my memory. "Let's see your fancy dancing now!"

My mind turned red. This scumbag had set fire to my house! He endangered my boys! The beast snarled in my mind, and I let him run free.

With a roar, I threw my head back, smashing him in the face. I did it again, and again, until his grip loosened, Then I reached up, and grabbed his head, pulling him down and over my shoulder. I rolled on top of him, wrists crossed, and leaned on his throat.

"Die. Die! DIE!!!"

All I could see was his face. All I could hear was his gasps for air. And that's all I wanted.

Then Brian screamed. "Let me go!"

The rage evaporated, and I looked up. Down by the end of the driveway, a man with scraggly hair had Brian by one arm, and was pulling him towards a car. Jason had his other arm, and was pulling with all his strength.

I stood, knee protesting, and tried to hobble over to help. Every step was agony, but I could see in the red light of the flames that Jason's grip was slipping. I pushed myself harder, but they were so far away.

Jason let go.

The man shouted "Yes!" and began dragging a struggling Brian away. I tried to follow, but my knee gave out.

I took a deep breath, and shouted. "BRIAN! SIXTH CIRCUIT!""

He dropped to one knee, twisting into the man's grip. In theory, the next step was a punch to the breadbasket. Due to his lack of height, Brian's punch landed a bit lower. The man keened, letting go, and Brian ran for it. I heard sirens approaching, as blackness took me.

***

I woke up in a cool white room, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. The pinch in my arm felt like an IV drip.

"Where," I croaked, mouth dry with disuse.

A burly shape swam into view. "You're in the hospital, Horse." A straw was placed in my mouth by an unseen hand, and I felt the blessed drops of moisture open my throat.

"The boys!" I rasped. "Are they OK?"

"They are both fine. Some minor cuts, a few bumps and bruises. That's all."

He picked up a chart. "You, on the other hand, were in a light coma, and managed to do a real number on your ACL. It'll be a miracle if we can save your knee at all, particularly after you tried to run on it."

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Three days. Carla and I are watching the boys. Jason called us."

I shook my head. "How? I didn't give him his Christmas gift yet!"

"I told you he was a smart boy. He grabbed your phone and wallet from your room. We arrived right after the fire trucks."

The fire. I remembered the house burning. Everything was gone. Their clothes. Their favorite books and toys. Even their Christmas gifts.

I'd never get to hear Brian play his new guitar.

Rock was watching my face, carefully. Finally he spoke.

"I know exactly what you are thinking right now, Horse. And it doesn't matter. Physical possessions don't matter."

He was right. Only two things mattered. And I missed them.

"I want to see the boys."

"They've come to visit you every day, but visiting hours are over, so Carla took them home. They'll be here when you get out of surgery tomorrow. Now, you need to get some rest."

Rest? How could I rest? I needed my boys! And my, that was a cool sensation spreading from my left arm. It was like a nice blanket, and I just wanted to let it roll over me so I could slee…

***

I was standing on a cliff, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I glanced down, and saw a zigzag staircase leading to a small private beach.

"It won't be long now," a female voice came from behind me. I turned, and found myself looking at a dark haired woman with bright gray eyes, dressed in a sharp business suit. In the distance, I saw a large house, flanked by bungalows.

"My half-brother has had you in his hands for far too long. But Fate cannot be denied, and your feet are back on the proper path. Very soon now, you will find what you were always meant to become."

I shook my head. "I don't understand."

"You will," she smiled, eyes sparkling. "But right now, you have to…"

***

"Wake up, Unca John! Please! Wake up Da-"

My eyes opened, and I saw Jason's tear-streaked face over mine. "I'm here. I'm awake!" I said muzzily.

He smiled through the tears, and wrapped my torso in a hug. "I was so scared! You were sleeping so long!"

I reached up with my free arm, and rubbed his back. "I will always come back for you. Never doubt that. Where's Brian?"

"I'm here, Uncle John." His voice came from over my shoulder. I reached out to him, and he squeezed my hand carefully.

"Children! You have to let him rest." A fairly prodigious woman in a nurse uniform entered the room.

"It's all right," I replied. "They can stay all they want."

"MISTER Chiron," she declared. "As head of ward, it is my decision, not yours. And I say you need more rest."

I decided, in my current condition, she could probably take me, so I whispered to the boys. "It's all right. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Jason nodded, and left. Brian was more reluctant, and held my hand for a few minutes longer, until nurse Attila harrumphed. Then he too left.

Later that day, Rock came for a visit. "The surgery went well, Horse, and we were able to save the knee. With rehab and exercise, you should have about 95% capability in six months or so. You were lucky. Damn lucky. Someone must be looking out for you.

I had an odd image of gray eyes.

"Rock?" I asked. "By my count, Christmas is in two days. I want the boys to spend it with your family. They need it right now."

He snorted. "Your count is off. The recovery from your surgery took longer than expected. Christmas was yesterday, and the boys spent it right here."

He pointed at a messily wrapped box on the night-stand. "They even bought you a gift at the hospital shop."

I tore it open with my free hand and teeth. It was a cheap coffee mug, but the legend made my eyes tear up.

NUMBER
ONE DAD

"I love them so much, Rock," I whimpered.

He nodded. "I know, boy. They love you too."

The next day, I had two sets of visitors. The boys came by in the morning, as I was being transferred into a wheelchair, and were overjoyed to know that I would be released by the end of the week. We sat together for a long time, happy in each other's presence, until they left around lunch.

After a fairly disappointing meal, Rock stopped by, followed by a truly large man in a County Sheriff Department uniform.

"Horse," Rock called. "This is Deputy Douglas Hämäläinen."

"My friends call me Doug," he rumbled, reached out a hand.

I shook it as firmly as I could manage. "Finnish, eh?"

He nodded. "You know my country?"

"Olen käynyt sitä toisinaan, kyllä?" I replied with a smile. He stared at me. Rock chuckled.

"Horse does that. He likes to throw people off balance."

"That is why you are called Horse?" Doug asked.

I looked at Rock. "There are lots of reasons. But if it's easier, you can call me John."

"Very well, John." He pulled a notepad from his shirt pocket. "I have news about the assault on your home. The LAPD caught one of the attackers as he tried to flee the country, and we will be interrogating him the day after tomorrow."

"Which one?" I growled.

He flipped a page. "Wasyl Mashkov. Ukranian national. Has been accused several times of drug trafficking & smuggling, never convicted. He dropped out of sight a few months ago after some sort of assault."

Pieces clicked into place. I knew who this Mashkov was. But how did he know who I was?

"I want to see him," I growled. "I want to see the man who made my boys homeless."

Doug nodded. "We thought as much. We want this bastard badly, so we can't let you in the interrogation room, but you may observe in secret."

I nodded. It would have to do.

Two days later, Rock wheeled me into the dimly lit observation room, and we watched as the prisoner was led in in handcuffs. He wasn't as stylish as he'd been when we'd first met, as he had a pattern of thin scars on his forehead.

Doug walked in, carrying a clipboard.

"Wasyl, my friend. How good to see you after all this time."

He looked up at Doug sullenly, and snarled a streak of Ukranian invectives.

"Now, now. There is no call for that. Particularly since no matter what you say, you are going to prison for arson and attempted kidnapping of a minor. I am sure you will make many friends there."

Mashkov's eyes widened. "Kidnapping? That is not what he said."

Doug leaned close, eyes intent. "Who said, Wasyl?"

"I do not know his name. He said a man had taken one of his children. When he showed me a photo, I recognized him as the man who did this to me," he motioned at his face, "and agreed to help, for $10,000 American dollars."

I gripped the arms of my chair tightly. Rock put his hand on my shoulder.

"He was glad to pay. All he cared about was having his angel again."

I snarled, and tried to throw myself out of the chair. Two deputies had to hold me down.

"We can make a deal," Doug replied. "We'll drop the kidnapping charges, if you testify against him."

Mashkov looked at him, and nodded. "If you can find him. He left before I did."

I struggled harder, and a third deputy had to join in. Finally, my rage turned cold.

"Rock. Bring me my phone."

"What are you up to, Horse?" he asked, warily.

"Get. The. Damn. Phone."

He dug around in the pack attached to my chair, and handed me my battered smart phone. I dialed a number I thought I'd never need again, and entered a 10-digit passcode.

"This is the Horseman. The game is afoot. Find me."

Rock shook his head sadly. I hung up the phone. Now, I only had to wait.

Two days, and I made arrangements to move into two linked motel rooms until I could find more permanent arrangements. I also called my bankers to free up some funds.

The time came to leave. Jason and Brian were trying their best to push my chair to the waiting van, but were having a hard time of it. After the third near-miss, a large figure appeared behind them.

"Little ones, please let me help," the figure said. They looked up (and up) and stepped aside.

"Toshiro Oyama, as I live and breathe," I whispered. "What took you so long, Mountain?"

"My apologies, Horseman. I had business elsewhere. I came as soon as I heard."

I nodded. "Been there. I'm glad you did. I was afraid Orion held a grudge."

Toshiro shook his head. "Much has changed since you left us. It is now my honor and duty to lead the Wild Hunt."

I inhaled sharply. "You honor me with your presence, old friend."

"How could I not? But time is short. What need have you of us?"

My voice grew cold. "A bounty. One million dollars, for Doctor Britt Rogers, PhD."

"And Mountain? Let everyone know that I… no, that the Fifth Horseman wants him ALIVE".

Chapter 6

The hotel suite was not as extensive as the one I'd shared with Jason on our getaway, but it proved roomy enough for our needs. . One bedroom had two twin beds, and was ostensibly for the boys. The other a king-sized bed, supposedly for me. I fully expected, however, that we would return to our usual sleeping arrangements. I was wrong.

That first night, with the assistance of the boys, I'd hobbled my way from the wheelchair onto the mattress. Brian went to the other room to change, while Jason climbed in next to me, carefully avoiding jostling my knee.

We were just getting comfortable, when there came a tap on the bedroom door.

"Uncle John?" Brian whispered, "may I come in? I need to ask you something."

"You can ask me anything, son," I replied, voice pitched low, "Any time, any where."

The door clicked open, and Brian walked in, clad as usual in his full length pajamas. He took a deep breath, and paused.

I waited patiently. Jason looked at him, then at me, a baffled look on his face.

Brian let out a slow breath. "May I… um… sleep with you guys tonight?"

I looked at him thoughtfully. "Are you sure you want this? Are you absolutely sure?"

He nodded. "I… I think I'm ready. No. I know I am ready."

Wordlessly, I opened the covers, as Jason scooted over to make room. But the surprises weren't finished yet.

Slowly, and with aching precision, Brian opened up his pajama top, and let it drop to the ground. The long pants followed. For the first time, I saw his bare chest, pale in the light from the window. Clad only in his briefs, he gingerly walked to the bed, and climbed between us.

Jason turned to face him. "Are you sure you're happy, Bri?"

Brian carefully leaned back against me. At the first touch of my skin, he froze, but then relaxed. Then, he opened his arms for Jason.

"I am, bro. I have you guys. " He wrapped Jason in a hug, as I did to him.

Jason snuggled close, and our family drifted off together into the arms of Morpheus.

***

For the next two months, all we could do was wait. My lesson plans had been lost along with everything else, but I tried to make do with what details I remembered. The boys helped each other as well as they could, while I focused on healing & rehabilitation. The extended Grimaldi clan also helped out, but at the end of the day, the hardest job was mine alone.

Eventually, I recovered sufficient mobility to hobble around on crutches, although initially the boys insisted on acting as my wingmen. The day I successfully crossed the entire room without falling was declared by the boys an official holiday, one deserving of ice cream.

Actually, most of the milestones in my rehab were deemed such. At first, I simply submitted to their desires for frozen dessert, but I sadly had to deny them when they declared "Uncle John put on his own shoes" worthy of celebration.

Particularly since they were sandals.

Holidays were on my mind quite often as winter faded and spring fought back. While the insurance covered the lost Christmas gifts and most of the immediate essentials, both of the boys' birthdays were coming up fast.

(Jason's birthday was April 1. Brian's, on the other hand, was April SECOND. My boys were a year and a day part in age.)

I'd been racking my brain, trying to think of what to get them. There were the usual suspects, of course: clothing, toys, books, etc. But these would be my first gifts for them, and the 'usual suspects' seemed insufficient.

The answer finally came one morning as I was drinking a cup of hot tea. In a flash, I knew what to do, and cursed myself for not thinking of it sooner. That afternoon, while the boys studied, I made some phone calls.

The big day came. There was cake. There were sodas. And yes, there were clothes, toys, and books. But just as they thought it was over, I pulled out two brightly colored envelopes.

Jason & Brian looked at each other in confusion.

"What do you think they are, Bri? Cash?"

Brian looked pensive, "Perhaps, bro. Uncle John would be more likely to give us gift cards of some description, however."

Jason nodded. "Probably, yeah."

I ahemed, "You know, boys, there IS an easy way to find out,.quot; I waggled the envelopes.

They looked at each other and laughed sheepishly, and each took one envelope. Inside each was one simple piece of paper with three words written across the top in bold letters.

CERTIFICATE OF ADOPTION

"Does this mean?" "Is it official?"

The boys looked at each other, and said, in near perfect unison, "You go first."

Brian stepped back. "Age before talent, bro."

Jason glared at him, but curiosity won over irritation.

"Uncle John? What does this mean?"

I looked down at him, smiling kindly. "Officially, we've only just started the process. But I've spoken with Judge Sanakaran, and she thinks an exception could be made in our case. So, there're really only two things to decide."

"What are they, Uncle John?" Brian asked, quizzically.

"First, you need to fill out what you want your names to be. You can use all or part of your original names, if you like."

"And the other?" he replied.

"What you want to call ME. 'Uncle' doesn't fit anymore."

***

Four weeks later, Jason Harold Quinn became Jason Quinn Chiron. And Brian Nordquist became Brian John Chiron.

And I became 'Dad'. Their dad. Forever. The very next day, I set up trust funds, in their names, with my bankers in Zürich. No matter what my sons (my SONS!) chose to do in life, I wanted to be sure they'd have a chance to do it.

I didn't spend that month idle, either. With hard work, and the help of my boys, I graduated from crutches to a cane. While I didn't have full mobility yet, we were no longer tied to the hotel. We rented a small car, and made several visits to friends in the area, particularly Rock's family. I knew he'd never admit it to me, even with his new openness, but Brian missed Dominic a lot, and their reunion brought smiles to everyone's faces, including mine.

I tried to walk every day, and build my strength. One or both of the boys insisted on accompanying me, "just in case."

One day in early June, Jason and I were strolling in the shopping district, enjoying the warm breeze, when I stopped, raising a hand. I limped over to a nearby bench.

"Are you OK, Dad?" Jason asked.

I nodded, wheezing slightly. "Just a little tired. I'll be fine in a min-"

Something was different. The pattern of the traffic had changed. I soon saw why when a long black limousine pulled up to the curb. The front doors opened, and two very large, very scary looking men in dark suits got out. One opened the back door.

"Drago. Please help Mr. Chiron and his son into the car," a thickly-accented voice commanded. Thing #2 stood me up, taking my cane. Strategies riffled in my mind, but none that would allow me to protect Jason. I submitted to his somewhat gentle ministrations, and climbed into the back seat. Jason followed, eyes wide with fright.

The doors closed, and we found ourselves facing an older man, well dressed, with a salt & pepper beard.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Chiron. And also to you, young Jason. My name is Zelenko. You know my nephew Wasyl."

I chose my next words with great care. "I know of you, and I know that at this moment I am at your mercy. You may take whatever vengeance you see fit on me."

"Dad! NO!" Jason cried, holding me tight.

I squeezed him back. "WHATEVER vengeance. The only mercy I ask is that my sons be spared. Naught else matters."

Zelenko looked at me a long time. Then he suddenly laughed.

"They said you were brave. I can see they were right."

He leaned forward. "Mr. Chiron, I am a businessman. I deal in stolen cars, smuggled artifacts, and other activities that your government deems illegal. This is known."

"But I am also a father, and a grandfather. And I have worked very hard to ensure my activities do no harm to children."

He sighed. "My nephew Wasyl is a sick man. Had it been up to me, he would have vanished a long time ago. But his mother, my blessed baby sister, is a woman of strong personality. To be honest, she's a shrewish bitch."

Against my better judgement, I snorted with laughter.

"For her sake, and for peace in the family, I overlooked his perversions. But his cowardly attack on your home went too far."

He raised a hand, and one of his men placed a manila envelope in it. "I must make amends. I know of the man your myslyvtsi seek, and this information will help."

I took the envelope, at a loss for words.

"Live well, John Chiron, and love your family. We will never meet again."

The limo door opened, and we stepped out in front of the hotel.

***

My rehabilitation moved to a new phase. With my sons' help, I duplicated the basic layout of the labyrinth in the lounge of our suite, duplicating the steps with papers on the floor. When it was completed, I stood at the beginning, ready to try the first circuit.

"You can do it, Dad," Jason cried, while Brian tuned his guitar.

I shook my head. "Something isn't right."

Jason looked over the pattern, and shifted one piece over a little. "Is that it?"

"No, this is," I limped over to the wall, where Brian and taped up a picture of a centaur he'd copied from a comic book, and pulled it down. In its place, I put up a picture of the boys from the last dinner at Rock's house.

"Now it's right. You two are my spirit now."

They both sniffled a bit, and gave me a hug. Then it was time to walk.

It was slow going. Over the next two weeks, I fell more than once. But Jason, Brian, and even Dominic (during his frequent visits) were always there to helped if I needed it. And soon, I felt my old skills return.

A week later, my phone rang.

"Horseman, this is Coyote. We have your package. Are you available to accept delivery?"

"Yes. I have been waiting some time for it. When and where?"

"Tonight. Eight PM. At the following location." He rattled off an address.

"I will be there."

That evening, I put on a dark suit, and drove to the designated drop off point. When I knocked on the door, giving the traditional passcode, it opened to reveal Mountain's smiling face.

"Your rabbit led us on a merry chase, Horseman. Even with the intel you gave us, we had to recruit local talent to make the actual grab. We promised him a 5% cut for his aid."

I looked up at him. "Give him 10%."

"The customer is always right," he shrugged. "It was good to see Maui, again, anyway. Shall we go in?"

The building was a former auto dealership, and hence was mostly empty. In the middle of the room, a spotlight revealed two uniformed soldiers flanked a bound figure in a chair, head covered by a pillowcase. As we approached, one pulled off the mask.

Rogers looked like hell, his face covered with bruises. He blinked at the sudden light.

I turned to one of the guards. "Problem in transit?"

"He fell, sir," he replied with a straight face.

"Fell…"

"Yes sir. Multiple times," he added, almost, but not quite, suppressing a smile.

"Ah well, can't be helped," I smiled nastily. "Hello, Doctor, having a nice day?"

Rogers looked up at me, venom in his eyes. "You!"

"Yes. Me. When last we spoke, you said you knew who I was. Do you remember?"

He laughed, rasping painfully. "You are the Horseman."

My voice grew cold, "That's right. I was once known as the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse. One of the most dangerous men on the planet."

I backhanded him across the face, knocking him to the floor. "Sit him back up!" I commanded.

The guards picked him up and dropped him back into his seat.

"And you DARED threaten my boys!" I growled. "Did you think you could tempt the beast and live?"

I raised a hand behind me, and Mountain dropped a pistol into it. Worked the breech, and pointed it at Rogers' forehead.

"The Horseman always takes his prize."

Rogers looked me in the eyes, and saw only the grave. He whimpered, and I pulled the trigger.

The loud click echoed in the cavernous room. I tossed the empty pistol to Mountain, who caught it deftly.

"Luckily for you, Doctor, the Horseman died eight years ago. Mountain, take him to Deputy Hämäläinen at the Sheriff's department. They have a lot to talk about."

I sniffed the air, and grinned. "Don't change his underwear."

I left the room, and the beast, behind.

***

I never told my sons what happened that night. When Rogers' arrest was made public, Doug Hämäläinen was able to keep our names out of it, and they never realized my involvement. All they needed to know was that he would never hurt anyone, ever again.

That night, Brian slept in my arms, perfectly content.

It was time to move on, in more ways than one. I traded in our sedate rental coupe for a zippy little 4-seat convertible, and we spent the next several weeks driving up and down the coast, looking for a place to set down roots. It was on a trip through Palos Verdes that our quest ended.

We were driving down Palos Verdes Drive, the boys snoozing in the back seat, when I came by an open gate in an iron fence. Seized by a sudden whim, I turned right and drove onto the property. The drive headed toward a Mediterranean-style villa that had seen better days. I parked the car. There was something familiar about this place.

Behind me, the boys stirred.

"Dad?" Brian asked. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure, son. But I feel like I've been here before. We clambered out of the car, and I fetched my cane. Then we followed the drive around the house. On the far side, we saw that the property not only had a half-dozen guest bungalows, but a full-sized swimming pool, albeit one now cracked and infested with weeds. Jason stared at it, imagining it full, while Brian wandered off.

I looked up to see him close to the edge of the property. I tapped on Jason's shoulder, and we walked over. Soon, we were all standing on a cliff, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I glanced down, and saw a zigzag staircase leading to a small private beach.

I HAD been here before.

"…in a dream!" Jason whispered, eyes wide with wonder.

Brain turned to face us. "Me too. It happened while Dad was in the hospital. I was standing right here, and I heard a man's voice tell me, 'Here, you will finish your healing and find harmony.' I turned, but all I saw was a swan, flying away."

Jason gasped. "My dream was almost the same! 'Cept it was a woman's voice, an' she said I'd find new hope here. All I saw was a dove!"

I thought for a moment, remembering flashing gray eyes. "Sons? If this place is for sale, would you like to live here?"

They looked at each other, and nodded.

"I'm not sure," Jason added, "But I think we're supposed to."

Lost in thought, we walked back to the car. Brian glanced up at the house, and gasped. "Dad! Look!"

He pointed at the name of the estate, carved over the front door. It read 'Mount Pelion'.

"Isn't that…?"

I nodded, staring. "Yep. You were right, Jason. Looks like Chiron has finally come home."

Three months later, renovations were complete, and we moved in. Each of the boys had their own room, although we still often snuggled together, and I'd arranged to have both indoor and outdoor copies of the labyrinth constructed.

It was a warm Sunday evening in early October. The boys were off somewhere playing, and I sat in my study, sipping from a glass of tea and remembering the events of exactly one year prior. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in boys!" I called.

Jason and Brian walked in, pensive looks on their faces.

"What's up, guys?"

Jason glanced at his brother. "Dad, Bri and I have been talking, an' we have an idea for you…"

The End

Pelion has passed on its legacy, but the story isn't over yet.
The Chiron family will return in Book II: Pelion's Promise.