Setting his faded leather briefcase on the table, Steve Henrick meticulously
studied the man who had called him over from his desk at Child Protection
Services. A detective by the name of Peter Caine had greeted him when he had
arrived. Medium frame, dark hair and a crooked smile, Steve saw a keen
intelligence and gentle compassion in the man's brown eyes that belied the outer
appearance, not to mention he was considered one of the precincts finest.

Even still, Steve couldn't help but feel a little put off. A half hour ago he
received a call from the detective, saying he needed him over at the precinct
right away. Weren't they supposed to come to him, not the other way around?
City detectives, especially homicide, wasn't supposed to get these cases. He
only said he'd come over due to the fact they'd probably screw things up.
Children were his area, especially abused ones. There was occasionally an
interdepartmental dialogue between the two, but it was rare and only in tragic
cases.

"Where is the boy?" he asked, trying to find out what it was exactly he came
over for. A blonde woman, Detective Jody Powell he thought he had heard her
name was, sat down at the conference table.

"He's with Detective Mary Margaret Skalaney. She's taken him to the
hospital."

Steve nodded, sitting down as well. "What is the boy's name?" he asked,
pulling out some files from his briefcase.

"Theodore Gearity," replied Peter coming into the room with another man. "And
the father's name is Keith Gearity. Mother is deceased. No brothers or
sisters. He's eight years old."

Steve nodded as he jotted the information down. "Now I want you to tell me
how you know the boy was being abused, all parties involved, and any possible
evidence." Steve glanced up at the detectives, beside the younger detective an
older man sat at the table with them. Grey hair framing a weathered face, the
late fifty-ish man seemed a block of stone. As Steve observed the man, Peter
went on, telling him that the man was his father and had befriended the boy.

Steve turned to Caine. "Alright, Mr. Caine, you need to tell me everything
you saw and did. If you leave anything out, you may go to jail or the boy may
end up with his father. Now, you need to start when you first met Theodore and
establish why you went to his house this afternoon."

Caine took a breath and looked at his hands. Steve noticed that the hands
were callused with dirt trapped around the nails. He looked at his own hands,
dark-skinned with polished nails. Hands were capable of so much good or evil.

"Teddy came with two other friends to learn kung fu about five weeks ago. He
was very shy at first, but as he kept coming with his friends, he opened up and
began to laugh more."

"Ok," Steve interrupted, "How many times did they come a week?"

"Every Tuesday and Thursday."

"And the friends names?"

Caine told the names and continued on about how he noticed the bruises, and
how Teddy never talked about his father or mother. In fact, he seemed afraid
to.

"Teddy had not come in with his friends for kung fu class that week." Caine
began. "I learned that he had not been to school either. I went to his home to
make sure he was alright. Upon coming to the house I heard a child crying
inside." Caine hesitated, unsure of how to go on, but continued. "I heard the
boy being struck and went inside to protect him. Once inside, I saw Teddy's
father upon him in a way that no man should be to a boy." Pausing, he took a
breath. "I struck the man, throwing him aside. And I grabbed the child and
came here."

Steve sighed and sat back. It seemed a cut and dry case, only the boy still
had to have the exam by the hospital and the father needed to be located and
charged.

"Will you say this in court?" Steve asked.

Caine nodded.

Steve placed his hand on his chin, feeling his thin mustache and the goatee he
was trying to grow in. A witness was rare in these cases, sometimes, the courts
questioned why the person was there. Trespassing or sometimes assault charges
could be brought against them. But, if the person wasn't afraid to bring
charges against the abuser...

"Okay, the boy needs to be documented by the hospital. I'll interview the boy
there. As soon as the exam is done, I'll draw up the warrant so that the father
can be charged and arrested. Then the paperwork goes to social services to find
the boy a placement home."

"May I take care of the child?" asked Caine in a soft tone.

Steve raised his eyebrow at the man. "Do you have any state or city licenses
to say you are qualified to foster a child?"

Caine shook his head no. "I am willing to take the necessary classes. Teddy
seems to trust me. In his fragile condition, is it not best to place him where
he feels safe?"

Steve took a deep breath, the man was right. Children heal faster when placed
in a safe environment. "Alright, I'll do a preliminary background check and
then try to fast track a temporary foster license. But only on one condition,
if your son also signs as temporary guardian."

Peter nodded, "That'll be no problem, I’m over at Pop`s a few times a week
anyway."

Steve rose, gathering the papers before him. "Well then, I'll interview Teddy,
and hopefully by tonight, the child will be able to sleep in peace."

The hospital had documented and photographed the evidence of the abuse. The
boy had cried through most of it, afraid of getting in trouble and afraid of
everything in general. Haltingly, the boy confirmed what his father had done.
Steve Henrick had a warrant issued for the father and Peter had gone with him
to make the arrest. The man had put up a bit of a fight, accusing Caine of
kidnapping. The accusations fell on deaf ears as the evidence from the hospital
burned in both the officers mind's.

"But I wanna watch cartoons!" the young boy pouted, his arms crossed,
sulking.

Kwai Chang Caine sighed, it had been a few weeks since he had taken an
abused child, Theodore Gearity, into his home. After witnessing the abuse by
his father, Caine had taken the child to safety. After several long, agonizing
weeks, the man was finally being brought to justice. The caseworker, Steve
Henrick, had said it would last about two weeks. Theodore, or Teddy as he liked
to be called, would have to testify, on what had happened.

Taking over as primary guardian, Caine had signed the child up at the local
school and taught him kung fu, trying to give him a new sense of well-being.
Teddy had taken naturally to kung fu. His lithe young body was graceful,
performing the movements with ease. It reminded him of Peter when he was young,
both the kung fu and the sulking.

Smoothing the growing hair out of the child's eyes, Caine replied the
umpteenth time that he did not have a television set and was not planning on
acquiring one. The child, fair-skinned with light brown hair, was an average
height and build for an eight-year old. He had the largest smile when he was
happy. Caine and Peter both made sure to bring back the joy to the child's
life.

Hearing noises coming down the hallway, Caine noticed Peter and Steve
Henrick coming towards them. Standing as the two men approached, the
courthouse hallway echoed the sound of their footsteps. The court date had
finally arrived to hear Teddy speak. Earlier that day, Steve Henrick had
prepped Teddy in what was going to happen. The young child would have to face
his father. There was enough hospital and supporting evidence to charge the
boy's father, but he still needed to testify.

Peter walked over to the boy. "Well Teddy, its time. Just remember to
tell the truth and know that you won't get into trouble, no matter what. And
remember that he does love you, but there's a darkness inside him that he needs
to learn to control."

The young brown-haired boy just nodded.

"How are you doing Pop?"

Caine inclined his head towards his son. "I am well."

Teddy, still sulking, insolently stared up at Peter. "He won't let me
watch cartoons."

Caine sighed, exasperated. "There are more interesting things to do in life
besides watching the television set."

Peter laughed, "you wouldn't let me watch TV as a kid. You said it would
warp my mind."

"I never said that."

"You said something like that." Peter hunkered down to Teddy's size, "I
have an idea, if you'll be brave in there, how about every Friday night you
spend at my place so you can watch Saturday morning cartoons? Sound like a
deal?"

"Can I also get Cocoa Puffs?"

Peter stood, "You bet, and I'll make sure you a eat a ton of them before
going back to Pop's."

Steve cleared his throat, reminding them of the reason why they were here.
"Are you ready, son?" He asked in his baritone voice.

Teddy looked up at the man. "Yeah, I guess. Nice suit."

Steve arched his eyebrows at the kid. "Thanks, it's Armani. Just remember,

when you see your father, you did nothing wrong. His lawyer's going to

ask you some strange questions, but answer truthfully. It'll all be over soon."

Caine sat down in the back pew in the courthouse. Ever since the trial
began, he had come to observe the event. Teddy had testified in the middle of
the trial, after several medical doctors. They had explained the physical abuse
to the child, but focused on the emotional toll. He had spoken earlier this
week. The boy's father had glared hatefully at him, but the man's lawyer could
not bend the truth to what he had personally witnessed.

Besides what he had witnessed that day, Caine also described the nightmares
that Teddy had each night. Also, the sense of abandonment and self-loathing, as
if the boy had done something wrong to deserve what had happened. While he had
been testifying, Caine had stared strait into the eyes of the abuser, and saw
only blackness in return. It had angered and saddened his heart.

Hearing the jury come back into the room, Caine knew a decision had been
made. The jury had been out deliberating for almost an hour. Watching each of
the men and women line back up into their assigned seats, each seemed to have a
burden lifted from their shoulders. A piece of paper was handed from the front
man to the judge.

Sitting back in his chair, the judge asked "have you come to a verdict?"

The front man in the jury nodded. "We have."

"Alright, what say you?"

The man, rather thin with rounded shoulders, swallowed before answering.
"We the jury find Keith Gearity guilty on all counts of child endangerment and
abuse."

The judge nodded. "Thank you men and women of the jury, you are excused.
Sentencing will commence two weeks from today." The judge pounded the gavel
before rising to leave.

The boy's father, Keith, had stood for the reading. "What about my boy?"
He screamed out. "Huh? What's gonna happen to him? You can't lock me up, I'm
his father! I didn't hurt him! You all lie!"

As the bailiffs pushed the man in the necessary direction, Keith's eyes met
Caine's. A roiling wave of hate passed into him, Caine couldn't stop the
shudder.

Giving Caine a sadistic grin, he yelled, "They can't keep me in here. I'm
going to kill you, you bastard! No one takes anything from me, especially my
son! You hear me? You're gonna pay, and its gonna be in blood!"

The court police pushed the raging man out the courtroom before he could
cause more angst among the onlookers.

Leaving the courthouse, even the warmth of the sunshine couldn't displace
the chill of the man's words. Caine looked up at the sun. As long as the man
stayed in jail, Teddy would be safe. But could they keep someone like Keith
locked up long enough for Teddy to always stay safe? Caine knew that the
darkness in the man would be all-consuming and it would be focused entirely

on him.






Kwai Chang Caine stood looking out his balcony windows. The sun was
beginning its destined journey across the sky, sure of its path and daily cycle.
He only wished he could feel the same calm. It had been over a month since he
had taken an abused child in. Teddy's father had been sentenced, the term the
man got was not nearly enough in his mind. Whenever he glanced in the child's
eyes, he could see thunderclouds of beginning nightmares. When the child slept,
Caine heard the night terrors, and that fear even reached into his dreams. He
shook his head before taking another sip of the tea. He had not had any
nightmares in years, yet the presence of the boy brought them forth in his mind.

He sighed, winter was fast approaching. It was late November, yet it
felt like winter. Maybe that was what was affecting his thoughts. He missed
the earth in bloom, and now the land rested. He felt much the same, but he knew
that for him, after autumn came only winter, no spring. He would be sixty next
month, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was getting older. One good
thing was that Peter didn't know. But could he trust Lo Si to keep quiet?
Grimacing, he took another sip of tea. It was time to get Teddy ready for
school.




Across a distant water, an older Shaolin was sipping tea watching the
sun drift down towards its evening slumber. Winter was nearing and the days
became shorter. He sighed, his son's birthday was approaching. It was a day he
had not celebrated in over forty-six years. He wanted to be there with his son,
he knew there was little time left for him, yet he wondered if he would be
welcome. He had made many mistakes in his life, and fate had given him a second
chance to at least seek amends.

Matthew Caine sipped his tea and mused back onto the events of the
year. His long deceased son and grandson had appeared as alive and thriving as
his dreams had wished them. And then he had discovered he had two more sons.
Matthew closed his eyes, feeling the sun's rays upon them. It ached his heart
to discover his three sons so late in his life, all that he had missed!

Hearing his gate open, Matthew opened his eyes as his friend
approached. The fellow priest was dressed in a warm winter coat, black like the
rest of his garments. A single white piece of cloth at his throat marked him
for whom he was.

"Are you still debating upon your upcoming journey, my friend?" the
newcomer asked in a soft French accent.

Matthew sighed once again, and glanced back at the sunset. "I know he
will say that he forgives me, but his heart is a different matter." Matthew let
his mind drift back to when he entered his son's bardo. Kwai Chang was on the
verge of death and Matthew had hoped that he could try and make amends before
the land of the shadows could claim either one of them. When his son, in his
state of despair, had accused him of abandonment, Mathew had claimed that he
needed to search for his soul and peace of mind. Kwai Chang did not accept it
and further accused him of not loving him. That had cut deep into Matthew's
soul. But he knew his son was only speaking the truth as he had believed it.
The bardo world was a place where truth and emotions long buried or denied could
be released.

He realized that he needed to see his son, if not for his own peace of
mind, then for his son's. He knew Kwai Chang had many unanswered questions and
both of them had to resolve their emotions together.

Father Vashon laid a folder on a small table beside Matthew. "Both
your son and grandson will be more than accommodating to you. They will be
pleased to see that you are making an effort in knowing them and their lives.
You must not leave this world with as deep regrets as you are having. Consider
this a gift from those who wish you peace. Make sure you say goodbye to me
before you leave." With that, the priest turned and silently left the garden.

Matthew glanced over at the papers the other priest had left. It was
a plane ticket. He noticed that there was no return flight. Perhaps his old
friend was right. Finishing his tea, he went in to start his evening supper.






A week had gone by, and then another. Steve Henrick had been by a few times to
see how things were going. He said that he was looking into any chance that
Teddy might have family somewhere. In the meanwhile, Caine was to be his
primary foster parent. Caine did not mind being a parent again, sometimes Teddy
called him `Grandpa Caine.' At first he tried to dissuade Teddy from using it,
but found himself not minding anymore. He quickly discovered it was a
completely different world in raising a child compared to when Peter had been
young. He had already found that out when trying to help Teddy with his
homework. Unsure of some of the newfangled assignments, and the fact many of
them needed a use of a computer, Caine had no choice but to bring the child to
the precinct and let Peter and the others at the 101 help. Kermit was more than
happy to aid in the computer assignments. Peter had to take Teddy to the
arts and crafts store to build a diorama. Why anyone would need to make a
smaller replica of the U.S. Capital to learn about how a bill was made into law
made him wonder about the teaching methods used nowadays.

A routine was established, Caine took care of Teddy during the week and Peter
had him on Friday nights. Usually though, Peter dropped him back off Saturdays
and then came back on Sunday and random week nights. One thing he was secretly
happy about was Friday nights, he missed the quiet time he used to have to
himself, and a date with a certain dark haired detective.

As Caine slowly made his way in the precinct, his thoughts turned to the evening
before him. The beautiful dark haired detective sat at her desk, immersed in
paperwork. Sidling up to the desk, he quietly watched her before she noticed
him. Mary Margaret's smile lit up her face as she saw him.

"Well, hello Caine. What brings you in here today?" She asked, batting her
eyes.

Smiling in return, he shrugged. "It is Friday and Peter's turn to take Teddy for
this evening. I am simply dropping him off."

"Oh, really, and did this 'dropping off' include wanting to stop by and visit
anyone else?"

"But of course. Mary Margaret, do you have any plans for this evening?"

"Hmm, I believe I am free this evening. And I am free tomorrow as well."

"Would you like to come over and spend some time with me this evening? There is
a new Thai restaurant and the owner has invited me to come for its grand
opening. He said to bring the most beautiful guest I could find."

Mary Margaret sat back in her chair softly blushing. He must be taking sweet
talking lessons from Lo Si, she thought to herself, the old guy's always
surrounded by women. "I would be honored to go tonight. I will be by around
seven."

Caine nodded, "I will be waiting."

Leaning forward in her seat, Mary Margaret propped her arm on the desk. "So
what is Peter doing with Teddy tonight?"

"Right now, they are in with Kermit. There was a computer homework assignment
Teddy needed help with."

"Wow, they teach them fast nowadays, don't they?"

Caine nodded in agreement staring at the computer in Kermit's office. The two
men were engrossed with helping the boy finish his homework. He inwardly
sighed, he had never even used a computer before.

"Peter, Peter, did you see the goal I made?" A young voice excitedly yelled.

Peter watched as the very sugared up Teddy happily skated around the rink. He
and the boy usually played ice hockey on Friday nights. Peter discovered that
Teddy was a natural on the ice. Inwardly, he felt he was giving back some of
the happy childhood he'd had, well, before the Temple's attack. He remembered
going ice skating with some of his friends and his father. Laughing, skating
around, sometimes playing ice hockey, other times racing across the ice to see
who was the fastest. He had to admit, his childhood had been filled with love
and many happy memories.

Glancing at his watch, it was almost time to leave. "Hey Teddy, what movie do
you want to get tonight?" That was one thing that made him laugh, how easy his
Friday dinner and a movie went from being with a pretty young woman to watching
movies with a surrogate son.

Peter and Teddy were soon home after a brief visit to the video store. The sky
had begun to drizzle a fridged wintry mix while they had been inside the ice
rink. Happy to be back in a warm, dry home, Peter set the tape on the counter
as Teddy ran into the second bedroom to change into his pjs. Peter smiled as he
looked down at the tape, Teddy had never seen Star Wars and it was now his
favorite. It had taken a lot of talking into renting "The Empire Strikes Back"
for tonight's movie, but he promised that next week, they would get Star Wars
again.

Teddy had loved Star Wars so much that Peter got him the backpack, lunchbox, and
a few action figures. Peter sighed when he looked over at his beloved train
set. Right in the middle of the layout was Darth Vader standing on the small
rise in topography. Princess Leah was tied up on the tracks while Luke and Han
were both riding the Oriental Express. The Millennium Falcon was parked in the
train yard next to an extra railcar. It was a setup he never would have
imagined in thousand years, childhood creativity at its best.

Going over to his answering machine, the bleeping red light announced that
someone had been kind enough to leave him a message. Peter hit play on the
plastic, black apparatus.

"You have two new messages" a mechanical voice announced. The first voice was a
familure female voice, wondering why he didn't call her back. Peter grimaced,
he had been meaning to but life was a bit busy. The second was one he never
expected to hear, both the caller and the message. It was an older male voice,
soft-spoken, yet powerful and commanding.

"Peter, this is your Grandfather Matthew. I am coming to visit. My plane lands
at nine-thirty. I will see you soon."

Glancing at his watch, it was almost nine. Watching Teddy happily jump up and
down on the couch, he had little time to wonder the reason for the visit. It
would take all his energy to get the youngster in the car. And he had to go
back out into the cold, wet freezing night.

"Full house!" Mary Margaret laughed as she laid her cards down. She couldn't
believe her luck. With Peter taking Teddy on Friday nights so he can watch
Saturday morning cartoons, she finally got a chance to be alone with Caine. The
two of them had a lovely Thai supper and now they were playing poker. With the
weather being gloomy and cold, they decided just to `hang out' and play cards.
Caine had even pulled out a small radio and tuned it to a station that played
love songs.

Smiling, she took a sip of the hot cider he had made for her. It was spicy and
aromatic, perfect for a cold night and a good card game. "You know Caine, you
really need to teach me how you make this, it is so good."

Smiling softly in return, he nodded. "Anytime you wish, I would be happy to."

"So how much have I've won?"

Caine added the coins on the table, "Four dollars and ninety cents."

"I thought you were really good at poker?"

"Only when I am cheating."

Mary Margaret laughed and glanced out the French doors. The freezing rain that
the weatherman failed to predict painted the glass in an wintry design. It had
started soon after she had arrived; however, the bad weather hadn't ruined the
evening. The food had been delicious, they were having a good time playing
cards, and even the radio seemed to play some of her favorite love songs. Quite
romantic actually, there was no way she could deny the sensation of a softness,
yet charged quality in the air. She had noticed a slight tingling whenever her
hand brushed his or how he looked at her when she smiled. She went to take
another sip of the hot cider and realized she was out.

"Would you like me to get you some more cider?" Caine asked.

"No, that's ok, I'll go. Would you like alittle more?"

"Yes, that would be very kind."

Mary Margaret stood and walked around to the kitchen. She knew he was watching her, and she knew she looked good. She had on her soft tan turtleneck sweater that hugged every curve, dark brown skirt that went just below her knees, and her high heel boots. Those were her favorite winter boots, stylish for everyday wear, they gave her confidence. And a sexy swagger.

Coming back in the room, she noticed that he had pulled the bench away from the table and was leaning against it. Taking his cup from her, he motioned for her to sit next to him. As she sat down and leaned against him, she heard the radio softly playing an Eagles song, “Peaceful Easy Feeling.” Humming softly to the music, she felt the same feeling in the song, it was a peaceful easy feeling. She was mildly surprised when he reached over and removed her hair clip.

Looking deep into her eyes, he slowly leaned over and kissed her. As the kiss ended, Mary Margaret rested her forehead against his, her hazel eyes glowing embers as she stared into his brown eyes. The pause lasted only a moment before she hungrily went in for more. Their lips passionately tasted each other, each an exotic spice to the other.

Pulling away from him, Mary Margaret smoothed her dark curls back and stood. Gliding onto Caine’s lap, she straddled him, and felt his hand teasingly run along her thigh.

“Oh, I can play that game too.” She said seductively as she began unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling out the tucked in part, she ran her hands along his chest and wrapped them around his neck. Kissing him deeply once again, she could feel his hands touch her back.

She could feel their body heat rise as hands teasingly explored each other. The cool air tickled her skin as it chilled when Caine pulled her sweater off. Mary Margaret arched her back as she showcased her bosom, seeing in his eyes the smoky spell of desire.

Caine leaned forward, murmuring how beautiful she was as his hands lightly caressed the round female shape. Sliding his hands behind her, he released the female form.

Mary Margaret couldn’t help but giggle as Caine tossed the lacy piece of lingerie aside. Thank you Victoria’s Secret, was all she could think.

“What?” Caine gently asked, lips continuing their trail of kisses down her neckline.

“I think you are over dressed.” Leaning back, she playfully finished pulling off his shirt. As soon as the discarded piece of clothing was gone, he tried to go back to kissing her. She deftly caught his hand and shook her head no. “Oh, I’m not done yet.”

Caine leaned back as he willingly let her do as she please. Mary Margaret let her soft, feminine hands trail down to his pants. Smiling seductively, her fingers undid the button. Still sultry, she slowly pulled down the zipper.

“More comfortable?”

A soft moan was her response as she slid her hand in and felt the hot, smooth flesh. Sliding her hand back out, Mary Margaret let her fingers lazily trail an undulating line up his chest, where she once again wrapped her arms around him. Passionately kissing him again, she slid her body forward to where she could feel his wanton desire against her.

“Ah hem!” A deep male voice interrupted.

Caine and Mary Margaret both looked to see Peter and Matthew watching them.

“Father!” Caine cried out in shock as Mary Margaret cried out “Peter!” Neither had heard them enter. The two interlopers stood in the doorway, shock registering on Peter’s face as Matthew’s was an unreadable mask.

Mary Margaret jumped up off of Caine’s lap, scrambling for her sweater as Caine turned his back and zipped up his pants.

“Father, this is quite a surprise. Should I had known you were coming, I could have met you at the airport.” Caine found his shirt and slid his arms into it. Mary Margaret had grabbed her shirt and hid in the kitchen.

Matthew made no move or indication at his son’s attempt at an apology. “It is hard to have a conversation with a man when only moments before his erection was the only thing on his mind. Peter will you show me a room where I may retire for the evening?”

Peter, still embarrassed by the situation, mumbled about the room to the left. The older man turned and went into it, closing the door behind him. Mary Margaret swiftly brushed past him, her dark hair flowing behind her. She left, avoiding all contact or chance at mumbling an apology. Peter was silently grateful for that, it was embarrassing for everyone. Well, except for Teddy, whom had fallen asleep on the ride home. Lucky kid, he thought, while putting the slumbering boy to bed.

If Peter thought last night was awkward, it was even more so at breakfast. All
three Caine men had arisen early. With all three of them avoiding eye contact
with each other, there was a silent sigh when Peter went to work, Caine went to
take Teddy to the park, and Matthew wanted to rest and meditate. Each had their
day planned, but all agreed to have dinner together.

When they gathered together that evening, each had been able center themselves.
Going to the Golden Dragon had been Peter's idea. It had a variety of Chinese
cuisine and a large fish tank that would entertain Teddy if he got restless.

Sipping his tea, Peter sat back in the chair and looked how close his father and
grandfather resembled one another. His father definitely looked like a younger
version of his father.

"So Grandfather, what brings you to visit us?" Peter asked, refilling his
teacup.

The older man smiled as he looked from his son to Peter. "I have traveled to
surprise your father for his birthday. It is the first time we have celebrated
it together in over forty-six years."

"Wow, so how old is Pop going to be?" he asked, giving his father his most
innocent looking smile. Caine only raised an eyebrow.

Matthew put his hand on Caine's shoulder. "Your father is going to be sixty
years old on Thursday. It is a magic number and is worth the journey."

"So now you'll officially be over-the-hill Pop. And when I take you out for
dinner, you'll be able to get the senior citizen's discount."

A look of annoyance was the only response Peter received.

"So December eighth is your birthday. I always wondered about that. That means
you're a Sagittarius."

"Peter," Matthew interjected, "we are half Chinese. You use the Chinese symbol
for birthdays."

"Ok then. What's Pop?"

"Your father is a rat."

"Really?"

"Yes Peter."

Peter laughed and looked over at Teddy, who also laughed at Caine being called a
rat. But otherwise, he was immersed in a coloring book that the waitress gave
him. Glancing up, he saw another friend heading his way.

"Hi Lo Si," he called out to the older Shaolin. "Did you know my father's a
rat?"

The Ancient smiled as he joined the group. "Yes, Peter, I did. A rat is a
noble birth symbol, known to be perceptive and wise." Lo Si turned to Matthew
and bowed. "Ah, Master Caine. I see you are here to celebrate your son's
birthday. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. I am Lo Si, often know
as the Ancient."

Matthew rose and bowed back. "It is an honor to meet you. Please join us for
our evenings repast."

"It would be my honor." With that, the waitress brought up another chair.

"My son, would not have using angelica root and aconite root been more effective
in treatment of Mrs. Loung's arthritis?" asked a soft, yet powerful male voice.

Kwai Chang shook his head. It was one of several inquiries his father had
asked. It had seemed as if every remedy he had prescribed, his father had
challenged him. Sometimes even in front of the person. When he worked with Lo
Si, they often worked in tandem, yet his father made him doubt his own abilities
as a healer. It had been two days since his father's arrival and he felt as
though he had yet to learn anything about the other man's life. Maybe this was
how Peter feels when it came to him.

"Mrs. Loung's arthritis is caused by Wind Heat. The hands are swollen, but not
painful. They only seem to ache when she eats too much sodium. I have also
given her a tea that includes cinnamon twigs and tinospora stem to aid in kidney
function."

"The hands may not be painful, but with the cold weather they can easily become
Wind Cold and turn painful."

"Yes, that is possible." With that, Caine gave a slight bow to his father.
The older man was sitting across from him at the table, observing. Caine went
back to the apothecary hutch and began putting away the various jars and tools.
Lo Si had offered to do his rounds while Matthew was in town. At first Caine
was grateful, but now he wished he could take a break from the other man.

Caine bit his tongue after the last part. No, he did not wish to be away from
the other man. His father had traveled far just to see him, it would be
unappreciative of him to wish it so. Offering a quick prayer for patience and
forgiveness, Caine sat down at the table and poured them both some tea.

Caine studied the man across from him. The age was more pronounced, but the
eyes still had the same penetrating gaze from when he was younger. They were a
warm brown like his but had a more Western rounded shape, most likely from his
American mother.

"So Father," Caine began, "is there anything you would like to see or do while
you are here visiting?" It seemed best to keep the conversation as genial as
possible, the other man's response would help determine the real reason for the
visit.

The other man seemed to ruminate upon the question. "I came to settle any
remaining business and to get to know my son and grandson. The moment in time
when we became reacquainted in St. Adele was too brief."

Caine briefly wondered what kind of business his father meant, but knew he might
not get an answer. The man would tell him in time.

"I would like to know," Matthew queried, "How Peter became a police officer."

Caine took a sip of his tea before explaining about how Paul Blaisedell had an
impact on the profession in which Peter had chosen.

"And so Peter willingly chose to walk a life of violence?"

"Yes, however Peter does not see it as such. While, his career is violent and
he has admitted that it has torn holes in his soul, he still holds the Shaolin
values at heart. He tries to protect the innocent and apprehend those
responsible for causing such violence."

"Has he ever tried to go back to the path of our bloodline?"

"Yes." Caine answered quietly.

Matthew sipped at his tea, waiting for him to continue.

Caine took a moment to collect the words, remembering the emotions surrounding
the event. "There is a Shaolin Temple up north. Peter wanted to complete his
training. After the trials, Peter declined the brands. He realized his destiny
was elsewhere."

The other man was silent, pondering the response. "In other words, Peter did
not want to become Shaolin?"

"He has the heart of a Shaolin."

"You did not answer my question."

The two men sat in silence, each sipping their tea. Caine glanced out the
French doors and noted the slowly sinking sun. Peter was going to pick Teddy up
from school and then take him to his evening counseling session.

"When was the last time you wore your robes?" Matthew asked.

"I am not sure. It has been awhile."

"Do you not wear them on certain rituals and events?"

Shaking his head, "no, I do not perform many ceremonies."

"When was the last time you purified yourself?"

"It has been a few months."

"Besides teaching Tai Chi and healing, it is important for a Shaolin priest to
keep himself purified from outside temptations. And it is equally important for
the spirituality of the community to have a Shaolin priest in his robes
performing blessings and other practices for the community. It keeps the old
ways alive."

"Yes Father." Caine replied, keeping his voice even. Inside, he could not
believe his father was rebuking him. Before he could even think further,
Matthew reached over and slapped him, hard.

"Do not patronize me. While it may not be obvious to you it is as clear as day
to me that you have been derelict on your duty as a Shaolin priest. Perhaps you
should fast and purify yourself until the next sundown to contemplate on how
much your spirituality has impacted this community and your son."

Nodding his head in shame, Caine slowly exhaled the breath he'd been holding.
Feeling the last of the golden rays of the sinking heavenly orb, perhaps his
father was correct.

Peter's day had started out as ordinary as any other day, but then, as was his
luck, it all changed in a second. And here he was, sitting, waiting, feeling a
guilt compiled with sadness, yet knowing there was nothing else he could have
done. He sighed and leaned back against his car. Closing his eyes, he could
see it happen all over again.

He had been called out to a possible homicide on Lincoln street. There was a
body, a young woman who looked too old for her age. Bruises and needle marks
lined her body while a small pool of blood around her head gave further
testament to her hard life. As Peter was examining the crime scene, a carload
of gang tough-wanna-bes drove up shouting insults. They would have ignored them
except a group of rival gang members had been observing the police. Not liking
the slow escalation of gang members, there were only two other officers and a
mortician besides himself at the scene, he called for back-up.

Next thing he knew, he heard the loud pops of gunfire. The gangs started firing
at one another. A bullet whizzed by him, another hit the officer to his left.
Pulling his gun, he fired three times, knowing that each of the shots had hit
their mark.

As soon as it had begun, it was over. Both gangs, those uninjured, had fled the
scene. A news reporter that had been there to cover the finding of the body had
switched into high gear. Even its van had been hit. A large bullet hole
spider-webbed its windshield. Back-up had arrived too late. Three were dead
and six were injured. Peter knew he had killed the one man, the rest would be
sorted out by forensics.

Opening his eyes, he watched his captain, Karen Simms, finish speaking with some
minion from IA. As she walked over he knew the procedure. Removing his gun and
holster, he handed it to her as she stopped and shook her head.

"Well Detective, I don't know whether to say you have good timing or bad."

He snorted, "I guess it all depends on the outcome."

"It could have been worse if you weren't here." The blond haired woman surveyed
the scene, dozens of police officers, ambulances, TV news crews, and the bodies
covered by a black tarp. "You might've saved both officers' lives, as well as,
any innocent bystanders."

Peter shook his head. "Its all up for debate. There's not to many innocent
people in this area. Otherwise, they wouldn't let such thugs run their streets.
The girl had her head bashed in, probably for something as stupid as pissing of
the wrong person. This is the third homicide here this year and we aren't even
close to closing those." Crossing his arms and watching the ambulance drive
away with one of the wounded, he said more to himself, "it just never changes."

Watching the same ambulance drive away, Captain Simms put her hand on his arm.
"Well Detective. You have a mandatory three day paid leave while IA
investigates. Spend the time with your grandfather while he is in town. Also,
tomorrow is the last court date for the Teddy's father. He has one last appeal
before a judge."

"That's right, my father said he needed to be there. Am I officially off duty?"

Captain Simms sighed, "yes, Detective. Try not to get into any trouble while
you're off."

Peter laughed. "I can't make any promises."

As Peter drove to his father's home, he wondered how his grandfather was going
to take the news. His father would want to pray for the lost souls, but he
would accept the loss of life as inevitable. A vicious cycle of karma had
brought about their fates.

Coming into the home, the strong odor of incense overwhelmed his nasal passages.
Coughing slightly, he came into the meditation room and saw his father prostrate
before the golden statue and then slowly rise.

"Whoa Pop, what is this? Incense burning run-amok? And why are you in your
robes?" Coughing again in emphasis, he waved his hand in front of his face.

"Peter, you should not mock my devotion." His father said sternly. Bowing
deeply to the alter, he once again moved in fluid motion to a kneeling position,
then a prostrate before rising once again. The priest's golden saffron and red
robes adding an increased importance to the homage.

Observing the alter, Peter noticed it had more fruit and other offerings than
usual. "I apologize Father" he said sincerely, "I mean no disrespect." Coming
over to stand next to his father, he bowed deeply to the Buddha. The two men
stood together for a moment before Peter spoke. "I took a life today."

Silence hung between the two men, one absorbing the words spoken and the other
awaiting their impact.

Shifting nervously, Peter continued. "A girl was found dead, I had to
investigate. Two rival gangs showed up and began a shootout. He was probably
some low-level thug with priors. No one even seemed to care that a girl was
found murdered. Only that one gang was on the other's territory." Peter shook
his head in anger. "It was senseless, all of it. The death, the bloodshed,
even the petty posturing between the two gangs."

"And yet, it was enough that they risked their lives over it." The older man
responded.

"No, its worth nothing. They rule in fear and intimidation. Kinda like Teddy's
father. His appeal is tomorrow. I hope they throw away the key to his cell.
Animals like him deserve to be punished for all the damage they cause. Teddy
will be haunted by it for the rest of his life."

Caine listened silently to his son, a growing sadness ached in his heart. "My
son," he said softly, "pray with me for their souls. We all deserve peace, even
the most wicked of us. And Teddy has us to help him in his journey of
recovery."

The younger man closed his eyes, a rising insubordination against the well
wishes of the violent souls. Yet, deep in his heart, he knew his father was
correct. "I did not want to take the man's life."

"I know." With that, Caine reached up and removed his prayer beads from

around his neck. Kissing them softly, he whispered a silent prayer over them

and then placed them over his son's head.

"And yet you did." A deep voice came from behind them.

Both men turned and saw Matthew Caine standing in the doorway. His graying hair
and elderly features belied the strength of spirit inside. Using a cane to aide
in his steps, he moved with unexpected grace.

"Taking a life is a serious matter. It is against all principles and is only
done as a last resort. A Shaolin does not purposefully take a life, but feels
the remorse before the spirit has even left the body. Your father tells me you
are an expert marksmen, could you not have controlled your weapon to avoid the
taking of life?"

The younger man paused to consider. "It is possible; however, with them
shooting at me and my fellow officers, but it is hard to determine. You can’t
always predict what might happen next."

"So it was an accident?"

"No, I shot to end the violence."

"Then there was a choice made and ending a life by your hand was the outcome."

Peter inhaled sharply, he had replayed the scene over in his head since it
happened. But perhaps his grandfather was right, did he purposefully end a life
because he had the choice?

"Grandfather, surely you have taken a life. When you served in the Army in
World War II, didn't you ever have to defend yourself or your comrades to the
death?"

The grey head vigorously shook his head no. "Never have I taken life, even when
it might have meant my own demise."

"Sometimes you have no choice." Peter responded. "When Dad faced Tan and the
Chi Ru Master, they were going to kill him and any innocent person who got in
their way. He didn't have much of a choice."

"Is this true Kwai Chang, did you take life?"

The younger priest reluctantly nodded. "Yes, but it came at great cost."

"I am disappointed by this. A true Shaolin can always find another way. Were
those the only two lives you took?"

Peter watched as his father stared the other man down. Caine's face was
unreadable, yet the tension was palatable.

"No, I have taken other lives."

"Who were they?"

Caine stared at him, unmoving, unawnsering.

Matthew stared back, face just as unreadable. Turning, he walked over to the
doorway. He paused at the threshold. "I will tell Theodore that only him and I
will be eating this evening's repast. You both should meditate on the lives
lost, the consequences to their families, and the core Buddhist values." With
that, he continued through the doorway.

Peter glanced over at his father, he seemed to be taking the reprimand in his
usual fashion, stoic and boxed-up. Peter had hoped to find a stronger family
bond with the visit and now all he felt was a shameful rapprochement. Nervously
running his hands thru his short brown hair, he was at a loss for words for
once.

His father sighed and turned back to the alter. The golden candlelight made him
seem more wise, yet more weary than in daylight.

Following his father's actions, Peter stared at the golden Buddha. He seemed
serene, yet there was a glow in his eyes that bespoke of hardships and
suffering.

"How long do we have to be here? Because I have to help Teddy with his
homework" he asked, finally finding something to say.

The priest shrugged. "Until they are finished their meal. I will make us some
rice then."

"Does it have to be rice? I'm really hungry, I missed lunch today."

Caine gave an even deeper sigh. "I can make you what you want then, my son."

Peter nodded but felt like his father wanted to say something else. He waited,
the streetlamp outside came on and the candles flickered.
"Was Grandfather always like that?"

"Yes."

Peter closed his eyes to the candles. "How many people have you killed?"

He heard his father inhale sharply. He knew it wasn't a question that was easy
to ask, but he didn't respond when his father had asked.

"Four."

He knew about Tan, The Chi Ru Master and a drug dealer who had died by
accidentally falling into his poison, but he needed to know if there was anyone
else. And now he knew there was.

"Who was he?"

"It does not matter. I took his life, that is all."

"Well, I find it hard to believe that you'd just murder someone in cold blood.
Why did you kill him?"

This time, Peter could hear anger in his father's voice.

"Because I had to. Peter please, let it be."

"I could arrest you and make you tell me. You've just confessed to killing
someone to a police officer. I have a duty to uphold the law."

Caine grabbed Peter's shoulders roughly, forcing him to look at him. "Peter, do
you think this is a game?" The older man hissed. "Why do you continuously try
to push me?"

"Your life has been nothing but a damned mystery to me. I just want to know
what you've been through and the choices you've been forced to make."

Peter stared at his father, not backing down. The two men stayed that way for a
moment, then Caine bowed his head. In a rare display of emotion, Peter watched
as a single tear trailed down the older man's cheek. Oh god, I didn't mean to
upset him so much, Peter felt as though someone had kicked him in the stomach.
He didn't realize the stress the other man had been under. His father coming to
visit must have brought up bad memories that were usually left buried. He had
Paul to go to when he needed to vent but his father had him and obviously, he
did a poor job.

Sighing, Peter lovingly rubbed the other man's back. "I'm sorry Pop, you know
how nosy I am. You keep your secrets but remember I'm here if you ever need
someone to talk to, alright."

The older man slowly nodded, but Peter noticed that his hands were still in
fists.

"Well Pop, I'm hungry and am gonna crash dinner. Think Grandfather would be mad
if I made a bowl of Spaghettio's?"

A chilly December morning had broken clear and bright, but Peter still shivered
as a breath of air pulled at his unbuttoned coat. Standing next to his father,
he noticed Steve Henrick waiting for them at the top of the courthouse steps.
The man did not look happy.

"Detective Caine," the man called out in his deep voice, "Didn't you get the
message?"

Peter quickly hurried up the last of the steps. "No, I just got here. What
happened?"

"The boy's father, Keith, just escaped custody along with another fellow
inmate."

"Damn, how long ago?"

"About a half hour ago. I thought someone would've called you by now."

Peter silently cursed again as the wind ruffled his hair. Glancing over at his
father, he could see the alarm in his features.

"Any idea where they might be heading?" The CPS worker queried, worry evident
in his voice.

"Yeah," he grimaced, "to get Teddy back."



The ride to the school had been a nerve-racking one. Even with the small bubble
siren, the fifteen minute trip felt like an hour. Caine had enrolled Teddy at
the local Chinatown elementary school. Peter knew that it didn't take a genius
to figure out where Teddy might be. All Teddy's father had to do was have his
lawyer get a copy of the foster record, it would have all the information about
Teddy's temporary home and school.

Pulling into the school parking lot, he saw one of his worst nightmares.
Teddy's father had the boy by the arms and was forcing him into a car. The
boy's father, Keith, was a mid-sized man with a squared head. His dark hair was
slicked back as he roughly shoved his son into the back of a small car. He
glanced up as he slammed the door shut. Seeing Peter pull into the lot, he
moved swiftly to open the driver's side door,

"Stop!" yelled Peter. Throwing the car into park, he jumped out. He noticed
his father had done the same, each man concerned over getting Teddy back safely.

Keith pulled out a handgun. Pointing it at them he paused. "I wouldn't come
any closer." He commanded, gun still leveled at them. "Teddy is MY son and I'm
taking him with me!" A string of obscenities followed, but all Peter could see
was Teddy, wide-eyed and staring at them.

A standoff between the men seemed inevitable. Both Peter and Caine stood their
ground, blocking Keith from being able to escape easily. Police sirens could be
heard in the distance, making it only a matter of time.

Peter noticed Teddy, staring out the back window at him, eyes wide with fear.
Nodding his head to give support, Teddy sat back down in the vehicle. Sliding
over to the passenger side, the door slowly opened.

Moving it an inch at a time, Teddy courageously began his escape. Hoping his
father wouldn't notice, he nervously slithered out when the door was open
enough. Once free, he closed the door enough to make it seem like it had never
opened at all.

Teddy could hear Peter talking to his father, telling him that there was another
way. Caine was there, watching. But he knew that the man could move faster
than anything if he needed to. Crawling under the car next to him, he rolled
away from the danger. Creeping out a little, he watched his father turn and see
that he was missing.

It was in that instant Peter sprang into action. Rushing Keith, he smashed the
door into the other man, gun clattering to the ground. Grabbing him roughly,
Peter slammed the surprised man into the ground.

Teddy, shocked by the events, blankly watched Caine come over to him and tell
him it was safe to come out. He could hear the sirens of police cars getting
closer. He could see his father, also on the ground, continue to struggle and
curse. Folding his arms in front of him, he laid his head down and cried.

"How's he doing?" Steve Henrick asked, concern softening his deep voice.

Caine shook his head as he sat down at the table. "He will have nightmares
tonight." After a brief visit to the precinct, he had brought Teddy home while
Peter took care of the necessary paperwork. Staring at his nearly untouched
teacup, he realized how close he was to losing the boy and how attached to him
he was becoming.

"Damn" Steve whispered, playing more with his teacup than drinking it, secretly
wishing for something stronger. "Well, at least that bastard of a father is
going back to prison for a much longer sentence."

Opening a manila folder, he slid it over to Caine. "I need you to fill out what
you saw today. It'll help add more years onto the jail sentence and sever all
rights of parental guardianship. You might also want to keep Teddy home from
school tomorrow and Friday, give him a long weekend to get back into his comfort
zone."

While Caine filled the forms out, Steve studied the room. Taking in all the
apothecary tools and dried plants, he couldn't keep from chuckling when he
looked over at the windowbed. Perched among the potted plants was Luke
Skywalker with R2-D2 and Darth Vader was hidden in some type of fern.

"I take it Teddy likes Star Wars?"

Caine smiled, "Yes, Teddy plays with them for hours on end almost everyday.
When Teddy first started kung fu lessons, he wanted to be a Shaolin monk, now he
wants to be a Jedi knight."

Steve laughed. "I wanted to be a Jedi knight, too."

Caine was right, the nightmares came later that night for Teddy. Peter could
hear his father in the room, soothing the boy's night-terrors with a comforting
voice and loving embrace. Closing his eyes, he remembered back to when he was
young and had nightmares. His father always seemed to be there, holding him in
his arms, rocking him back and forth, soothing his imaginative dreams. He felt
so safe and loved. As if his father could make everything better just by being
there.

Staring at the room where his grandfather was staying, he wondered if the man
had ever done the same for his son. Caine hardly ever talked about the past,
and almost never what it had been like when he was a child. He knew about his
father's temple being attacked and the death of a good friend, but that was all.

Peter went out to the kitchen. He was hungry and wanted a snack. Opening the
cupboard, he saw the cake he had gotten for his father's birthday. It was
chocolate with white icing and a big red 60 written on the top. He was going to
make sure his father had a good birthday, now that he knew when it was. He only
had to figure what to get the man as a present.

Peter hung up the phone and swore softly. The day had started out smoothly
enough, he and Teddy went to find a birthday gift for Caine then and then he got
a message that he had to stop by the precinct. Once there, he was told that the
other inmate that escaped with Teddy's father was still on the loose. His name
was Ernie Reyes and he was a known low-life who would strong arm for hire. He
probably wouldn't pose a threat to them, but Steve Henrick wanted to make sure
to be on extra vigilance. With that said, Peter needed to give a timeline on
Teddy's whereabouts over the next few days.

Leaning back in his chair, he glanced at his watch. He had promised Teddy
they'd be there only for ten minutes and now, almost an hour had gone past. The
boy sat in a chair opposite of him, staring at him.

"Are we done yet?" Teddy asked for the umpteenth time.

"Not yet. Where should we take my dad for dinner?"

The young boy sat back in his chair, exhaling loudly. "I told you already,
Chuck-E-Cheese."

"We are not taking Pop to Chuck-E-Cheese. What about the Golden Dragon?"

"Been there already. How about Paco's Tacos? We could tell them its his
birthday and they`d make him wear this green giant cowboy hat and sing to him."

"No, not a good idea."

"Hi boys," interrupted a soft female voice.

Peter looked up to see Mary Margaret smiling weakly at him. She still avoided
eye contact with him, but he didn't want to meet her gaze either.

"What are you going to do for Caine's birthday?" asked the brown-haired
detective.

"Don't know, any suggestions?"

"Sure, he likes the Thai restaurant off Maplewood."

Peter snapped his fingers. "Great, that's where we'll go. Would you like to
come with us, Skalany?"

She shook her head, "No, I wouldn't want to intrude. I have a gift for Caine,
can you give it to him for me?"

"Nope, you have to give it to him yourself. Besides, it`d be a great time to
formally introduce you to my grandfather."

"But Peter,…"

"I'll see you there at seven. And there`s one more thing." Peter scribbled on
the sheet of paper in front of him. "Can you fax this to Steve?"

The sweet smell of simmered spices made him salivate. Spicy Thai food was one
of his favorites. Peter sipped his tea, tummy happy and full after the
delicious meal. So far so good, he thought, everyone was behaving themselves.
Mary Margaret had come by and was sitting next to Caine. It was awkward at
first, but Caine had introduced her to Matthew and things seemed to have
smoothed themselves out.

Teddy had happily told everyone about his planet presentation when silence
seemed to awkwardly reign. Peter had helped him on the project, and was beaming
as if Teddy was his own son.

Caine walked Mary Margaret out to her car as Peter paid the bill. Peter watched
as his grandfather observed the interaction between Caine and Mary Margaret.
The man's face was as expressionless as a stone wall. At least he now knows
where his father learned it, he thought sourly. Going outside, Teddy ran over
to the car, calling shotgun. He and Matthew walked over a much slower pace as
Caine came over to join them. Matthew had given both him and his father deep,
evaluative observations during the meal, as if he was judging the value of their
lives.

All three men watched as the brunette detective drove away. Matthew shook his
head sadly, "Kwai Chang, we need to talk."

Caine arched his eyebrow, the only sign of acknowledgement. "Did you not enjoy
the evening's repast?"

"The meal was more than provisionary for nourishment. It is about your lady
friend."

Peter watched his father stiffen, but the man remained silent.

"Do you not feel she is a bit young for you? She would be a better mate for
your son."

Damn, Peter thought, and so far his father seemed to be having a good birthday.

"I am only saying that your thoughts should not be toward finding a lover for
you, but a wife for your son. Since he is still single, perhaps he needs
someone to help him find a suitable mate." The family patriarch explained.

Is that what his grandfather is thinking, that he needs help with the ladies?
Peter bit his tongue and waited for his father to give some sort of response.
Caine seemed to mull the comment over before responding.

"Is that what you thought when you had a brief affair that produced my
half-brother, Martin"

The older man's face darkened. A sharp, cold breeze kicked up, tearing at their
coats. Pulling his tighter around him, Peter had a feeling that the December
night was warm in comparison to the conversation between the two men.

"Perhaps you should walk home and meditate on what you have said and the way you
live your life. When you return, we must discuss the negative energy that has
been dwelling upon all of us."

While sitting down and discussing the matters of the heart sounded like a good
idea, Peter found himself realizing that the demons that lie hidden in the past
may be more damaging if brought to the light. But was denial of the past
healthy? He watched as his father poured Matthew Caine a cup of tea before
serving himself. Peter realized that while his separation from his father was
one of violence and treachery, his grandfather willingly left. As much as Peter
and Caine had tried to understand each other in the healing from the separation,
the topic of how Caine dealt with the separation from his father was never
delved into.

He mentally sighed, he had hoped his father would share his past with him, but
the older man never wanted to talk about it. Was it because something really
bad happened? Or was it the Buddhist mindset in learning from the past, but not
dwelling on it? Peter could feel his arm hairs rise at the tension in the room.
He had always wondered what his grandfather had been like. After hearing mostly
stories of his great-grandfather, he never found out much, other than learning
he had fought in World War II and often traveled around China looking for lost
treasure.

As the two men sat at the table, Peter stood off to the side, trying to seem as
invisible as possible. It was blatantly obvious that his father did not want to
be there. Matthew had insisted it needed to be discussed before he was to gain
any serenity in passing over to the other side.

"Kwai Chang," Matthew began, after taking a slight sip from his tea. "I will
answer all of your questions as honestly and simply as possible. I would hope
you answer with the same truthfulness as I am. Let us not talk in koans and
platitudes this evening."

Kwai Chang nodded, reluctantly yielding to the request of the family patriarch.

The eldest Caine sat back in his chair, studying the other man seated across
from him. While the weathered face seemed unreadable, the eyes spoke a volume
of emotions.

"My son," he began, "let me once again say that it was a blessing from heaven
finding both you and Peter. When I had visited your gravestone, it had given a
mute testimony to how valuable your lives were, and how much I had missed. You
both being alive gives me eternal happiness. I am old and do not have much time
left. And while I had made many mistakes, I never regretted any of them."

Peter watched as his father's eyes narrowed. Not a good sign, but what was he
expecting. If there was one thing he learned, it was that Matthew Caine was
tough. He did what had to be done. No regrets.

"What are your questions, Kwai Chang?"

The other man shook his head. "What if I do not have any? Maybe I do not care
to hear your answers."

"But you do. In your Bardo, you accused me of not loving you. You wanted me to
come with you to the land of the shadows. Obviously, you have never faced your
sense of abandonment and when I had appeared, so had your anger towards me. We
must deal with it if you are ever to find enlightenment. Your entire body
language during my visit confirms it."

Kwai Chang stiffened, glancing out the French door windows, he paused,
thinking. Turning back to face his father he sat back in his chair and cocked
his head to the side. "Well then," he responded smartly, "If you say you will
answer my questions, how come you never told me that I had a younger brother?"

Now it was Matthew's turn to stiffen. "When I had delivered you to the temple
for training, you were four years old. In 1942, when I went back to America to
enlist in the war, Damon had just been born. I had hoped that the Army would
send me to China where I would be able to be with your mother and brother, but
that was a miscalculation on my part. While I was in France, the Sing Wah
attacked the village, killing your mother and as I had thought, your brother. I
did not tell you about Damon because I wanted you to focus on your training, the
Shaolin Temple was your new home."

Matthew paused, adjusting his glasses. "Now it is my turn to ask a question."

Kwai Chang arched an eyebrow "Is this not your palaver to answer my questions?"

"Did you really think that I would not require some open dialogue from you?"

The two men stared the other down for a moment before the younger man
responded. "Alright, what is your question?"

"How come Peter is not following in our family tradition?"

"He is."

"He is not. You said that he completed his training at the temple up north but
declined the honor of the brands. How are you ensuring that our family will
continue as our ancestors have?"

The younger priest leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Peter is a
man who makes his own choices. His path is still unveiling itself, but he has
the heart of a Shaolin."

"Neither Martin nor Damon have children; and with their current ages, I doubt
they ever will. Peter is the only hope to continue on with the line, unless you
are planning on having another child."

Caine shook his head no. `Why did you really come visit if all you offer is
criticisms of our lives?"

"Like I said, I want to reconcile with you and ensure the survival of our line.
Is it not a sobering thought that if Peter should die before producing
offspring, our entire line dies with him." Matthew sat back in his chair and
shook his head, "I was arranged to be married to your mother. She was the
daughter of a local merchant I had healed. I accepted because it allowed me to
continue the line. We grew in love with time, but love was not the only thing
to consider."

Both men at the table turned to look at Peter. All three absorbing the gravity
of the words. Peter shifted, uncomfortable under the stares of his father and
grandfather.

Caine broke the silence. "Peter will marry when he finds the one he loves, all
we can do is be patient."

Matthew adjusted his glasses, "No Kwai Chang, you need to be more proactive.
You are seemingly lax on your duties, survival of the line and our heritage are
paramount. It was behind many of the choices I had made. I brought you to
America because China was going though a turbulent time. By placing you with a
former Shaolin, it ensured the continued existence of our heritage. Also, he
had a daughter you could marry when you came of age."

The look of shock crossed Caine's features, mask totally forgotten. Leaning
forward, he opened his mouth to say something, then stopped and looked away.
Going back in his chair, he shook his head. "You actually gave me to that
bastard for safe keeping just to continue the line? Did you even know him?
What he was like?" He hissed the last question, eyes glaring.

The elder man stared him down, unyielding. "I met him when I was leaving China
to go enlist. He seemed a nice enough man. He was mixed Chinese and American,
like me. He was leaving to take care of his mother back in the US. We kept in
touch and he seemed a logical choice. He had studied the way of the Shaolin and
yet was American. What better teacher could I have found for you?"

"You could have been there!"

"Perhaps, but there were other matters that I needed to take care of back in
China as the Maoists started taking over."

"Did you even know what kind of man he was?"

"He seemed like a good man and you were a teenager at the time; a strict
disciplinarian was the best choice in order for you to learn American ways and
still retain your heritage to become a Shaolin priest."

Pursing his lips, Caine shook his head and said darkly, "You could not be more
wrong, and I have the scars to contradict what kind of man you thought he was."
Standing, the chair scraped back harshly. "This is a waste of time. If all you
came here for was to ensure our linage as Shaolin continues, then you may be
waiting awhile. My brother Martin is in the law enforcement profession and
Damon is Sing Wah, a Shaolin's enemy. Neither of my brothers are Shaolin nor do
they have children. Maybe if you had been there for any one of us, you would
have your wish."

"Kwai Chang," Matthew responded angrily, "Sit down! No son of mine will treat
me with such disrespect."

The men stared each other down, like two alpha tigers in a cage. Caine moved
to stand behind his chair, hands clenched on the top of the of the chair.
Matthew sat, hands grasping tightly to his cane, candlelight flickering off his
glasses.

Peter, a silent observer, realized he needed to interfere. Calling forth every
bit of patience and negotiation ability, he stepped up to the table. Both men
turned to him, watching him now. Placing his hands on the back of the chair, he
cleared his throat before speaking.

"I think we have reached a moment in the discussion, where if anything else was
said, it may be regretted later on. Lets call it a night and resume the discussion when everyone has a clear mind."

Momentary silence followed, a breath of air. Caine nodded and Matthew inclined
his head in agreement.

"You have a wise son, Kwai Chang."

The younger priest answered darkly, "Yes, he is a very wise man."

It was the calm before the day began. Heavy rain-laden clouds darkened the
sunrise, shrouding the beginning of the day in a drapery of soggy abandon.
Staring out of the windowpanes, the first few fat water droplets hit the glass
in a gust of wind. Maybe that was how he felt, like a drop of water doomed to
fall to the earth. Yet didn't even the smallest drop of water flow into the
ocean or evaporate up to heaven to become a raindrop again?

Sighing softly to himself, he felt a presence behind him.

"Great day to sleep in, huh Pop?"

Caine smiled, "And miss the beginning of a new day? Can you not see the
sunrise, my son?"

Peter yawned and stretched, muscular arms lengthened. Settling one arm around
his father`s shoulders, he stared out the window. The younger man was still
dressed in his pajamas, a tee shirt with flannel bottoms.

"Nope, I don't see the colors, but it doesn't mean that there isn't any."

Caine nodded his head in acknowledgement. He had risen a few hours ago to
meditate and have some time to himself. Now that Peter had mentioned it,
sleeping in would have been nice, especially on a chilly morning like this.

Peter scratched the back of his head and shifted, a nervous gesture. Caine knew
he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how, so he waited.

"Um, Pop, I just want you to know this. I didn't take the brands because it
didn't feel right at the time. Something told me to wait. I'm sorry for not
discussing it with you, but I was confused with everything."

Bowing his head, Caine kept his features calm. It had hurt him deeper than
Peter would ever know.

"But, uh, just ignore what Grandfather said last night. He doesn't know you and
has no right to judge you. You have done more to help people than he will ever
realize. And you mean a lot to me and this community." Peter shifted again,
and used both hands to scratch his head. "I love ya, never forget it." With
that, he turned and folded Caine into a hug.

Slightly surprised by the unexpected gesture, he couldn't help but put his arms
around his son, returning the embrace. Relaxing, he could feel his tension
ease, just basking in his son's love. Peter moved to plant a small kiss on his
forehead before breaking the embrace.

The younger man smiled as he walked away. "You looked like you could've used a
hug, Pop. Now I'm gonna get Teddy ready for school."

"Did Steve not say to wait until next week?"

"Yup, but he has a vocabulary test today. And I'm going with him."

There was a stillness in the air that seemed to keep him on the verge of
peaceful meditation, as if something was not quite right. Getting up from the
table, Matthew moved to the kitchen. A small pot of tea had been simmering. He
replenished his cup before returning to the main room. Going over to the
windows, he watched the water droplets pelt the earth in a flurry of movement.
It had been raining all day, the outdoor gloominess mirroring his internal
gloominess.

Turning, he sat back down at the table, journal open before him. He wrote a few
words, but his mind kept getting distracted by last evening's event. He sighed
and adjusted his small, wire frame glasses. Rereading the short, half-written
entry, its contents profoundly impacted his mind. "Tonight I have confirmed
with my words that my son never felt loved by me…" read the entry. Affairs of
the Shaolin, of country, of lost treasures had taken precedent over his son, but
surely he had shown his son that he loved him, even if it was not in so many
words. Everything he did was for Kwai Chang's best interest. The study in the
Temple, the US caretaker to teach him English and the ways of the US, did not
either one of those aid him in his development?

Matthew closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Absently rubbing his
hands, the arthritis was worse on cold, rainy days. His son had been making him
a remedy that had eased the pain greatly. Kwai Chang did not make it for him
this morning before he left to do his rounds. Sighing again, he missed the
administrations of his son, even if he never told him so.

Hearing the main door open, the pounding of sneakered feet announced the arrival
of Teddy and Peter. The young boy raced down the hall, stopping when he saw
Matthew sitting at the table watching him.

"Hi Mr. Caine." The young boy cheerily said. "Where's Grandpa?"

Matthew both secretly enjoyed a young boy calling his son "Grandpa" and despised
it. The child was not even a relation to them, so why would he give such a term
of endearment? However, he ultimately hoped it would inspire fatherhood in
Peter.

"He is with people from the community." The elder Caine explained. "He will

be back soon." At least he hoped he would.

"Hello Grandfather." Peter greeted him, walking in the room. "Ok Teddy, lets
get you outta these wet clothes and get your homework started, alright?"

"Aw, come on Peter, snacktime first."

Peter laughed, "alright, you get changed and I'll get you a snack. But then you
start your homework. Deal?"

"Deal!" Teddy turned and raced back down the hallway, light brown hair slicked
to his forehead.

Pulling out a chair, Peter sat across from the elder Caine. "Hi, how's your
journal coming along?"

Matthew arched an eyebrow. "I have not been able to write much today."

"Oh," Peter responded, seemingly occupied. Running his hand through his hair,
he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Grandfather, I just have to say this.
Don't you ever talk to my father like that again. We were separated for fifteen
years, and its hard sometimes to communicate, but he has never talked like that
to me. He has never put me down or rebuked me for my profession. All he has
ever shown me was love."

Matthew stayed quiet, letting his grandson speak, listening to what the younger
man had to say.

"Perhaps if you knew him better, you'd see how the community truly values him.
He has helped ease the pain of so many, whether it's by his apothecary or
listening to them. If you'd like, please come with me tonight so I can
introduce you to some of my friends and coworkers at the precinct. It's a
chance to get to know us better. Pop can watch Teddy tonight"

The elder Caine sighed, knowing the younger man was correct. "Yes, my grandson,
I would like to get to know the both of you better."




Sipping his beer, Peter shook his head. The usual gang from the precinct was
there, telling all the stories they could think of about him. Mary Margaret had
just finished telling the story about him being naked with only an apron on when
he had captured the bakery robbers.

Glancing over at his grandfather, he seemed to be listening to everything they
said. All of his heroic escapades, and his not so heroic moments. Matthew had
even surprised him by ordering a beer, something his father had never done.

Noticing Frank Strenlich standing by the door, something about the former Marine
grabbed his attention. Excusing himself, Peter hurried over to the other man.

"Peter, got some bad news. A few hours ago a prison van was hijacked."

"What? Was everyone ok?"

"The officers were just bruised, but they got a good look at who orchestrated
the assault. Ernie Reyes, the same inmate that escaped with Keith Gearity."

"Oh no."

"It gets worse. Keith Gearity was in the prison van."

Caine closed the book and laid it on the nightstand. Teddy had fallen asleep
halfway through the chapter. His innocent face slept peacefully as his mind was
far off in the land of adventure. Caine smiled, it was not all that long ago
when he read the same story to another child. Rising, Caine finished tucking
the child in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

Turning off the bedside lamp, he walked over to the door. A strange, ominous
feeling was beginning to beg attention. Something bad was going to happen.
Caine placed a hand on the door. It was closed to keep the colder air from
flowing in. There was a malicious presence behind the door. Caine closed his
eyes, he had to escape with the child.

Suddenly, there was no time to react. The door exploded in splinters as Caine
felt pain burn his middle. Falling back, Teddy's father pushed through the
remains of the door, twisted smile upon his face. Turning on the light switch,
he smiled down at the wounded man.

"Oh, I got you good, you bastard. Now I'm taking my son back." Walking over
to the now stunned child, Keith walked past Caine. Teddy just stared at his
father in horror.

"Get out of bed, we're leaving." Keith demanded. Teddy looked to Caine.
Keith erupted in anger. "Don't you look away from me when I'm talking to you,
boy!" With a wild yell, Keith backhanded Teddy, causing the boy to fall to the
floor, landing next to Caine.

"Run!" Caine commanded through clenched teeth. Teddy jumped up and bolted for
the door. Keith grabbed at his son, only to be tackled by Caine.

Teddy heard his father cursing as he fought off the wounded priest. Rounding
the corner of the door, he ran headlong into Ernie. Landing on his back, Teddy
kicked up as the other man lunged at him. He heard the other man groan as his
foot connected with Ernie's groin.

Scrambling up, Teddy shot down the hallway, toward the French doors of the
patio. Ernie, not completely disabled by the kick, lunged at the boy. Catching
the back of his leg, Teddy fell forward, smacking the floor with a sick crack.

Crawling forward, Ernie darkly smiled, "I have you now, you little pest."
Grabbing the boy's leg, Ernie laughed as he tried to control the boy. As
suddenly as the first gunshot, a second shot brought their scuffle to a pause.
Ernie, looking back toward the room the boy had just come from, started
laughing.

Teddy, kicking out again at the man's head, hit his target. Hearing the
swearing, Teddy rolled into the nearest doorway. Realizing he was in the
meditation room, he ran over to the alter. Grabbing the ceremonial jade dagger,
he turned to see his father enter the room with the same wicked gleam he used to
have when he wanted something. Ernie, hand holding his bleeding nose, came in
with a long-barrel gun.

"He's not coming to help you anymore, Theodore." His father calmly, too
calmly, stated. Holding the handgun by his side he stared at the boy. Blood
stained his clothes, testament to the level of violence he was capable of. "Put
the knife down, we're leaving."

Teddy froze, fear and anxiety holding him hostage of what he knew would be
coming. A small gash on his forehead from when he fell began to burn. He
needed to stall, he realized. If Caine could not come to the rescue, then
hopefully someone heard the gunshots and called the police.

"No," he quietly whispered.

His father looked stunned. "What did you say?"

Teddy swallowed a knot of fear rising, "No, um, sir."

The man laughed, "That is not an option for you, my dear son. Now give me the
damn knife."

Teddy raised the knife. His father easily knocked the weapon away and grabbed
the boy by the neck. Pulling him forward, he warned the boy, "You do as I say
or you`re gonna know exactly how pissed off I am right now."

"The boy stays" said a firm voice.

Teddy looked up to see Caine standing in the doorway. The man leaned against
the doorframe, holding his hand over a wound in his abdomen. By the tone and
the fact the man could stand, Teddy felt hope at being saved.

Keith paused before a dark smile crept across his features. "Bullshit, you're
too weak to fight, you're stalling. I'm going to kill you this time." He
raised the gun and pulled the hammer back.

"No!" Teddy screamed and struck out at his father's arm. Keith's arm went
wide, a gunshot sounded as the glass in the nearby window shattered. But it was
the distraction Caine needed. Quickly crossing the room, Caine rushed the
violent man. Several blows soon dropped the man to his knees.

“Stop, or I’ll make sure there’s nothing left of your skull” said Ernie. He had been leaning against the wall holding his gushing nose, but now, he stood, blood still coursing down his chin and unto his soaked shirt, gun leveled directly at Caine’s head.

Keith, laughing at this turn of events, grabbed his handgun and stood, wicked gleam back in his eyes. Placing the barrel end right between Caine’s eyes, he smiled. “Kneel” he commanded.

Caine didn’t move, only stared back at the man.

“Last time I’m saying this, kneel, you bastard. I have something else in mind before I kill you.”

Caine swallowed the rising taste of blood in his mouth before he slowly knelt. Keith stood in front of him and unzipped his pants. “Time to suck my dick you bastard. And you’re taking all of it.”

Horrified, Caine shook his head.

Keith laughed and placed the gun at his temple, “open up, and if you bite, your brains are going to be all over the wall.”

Still shocked, the priest could only shake his head no. Staring at the hardened length of the other man, he prayed that Peter and the others could get there in time.

Grabbing his head, Keith tried to force himself into Caine’s mouth. Caine pushed back, getting more of his blood on the other’s clothes. Keith pulled the hammer back and paused.

“I’m going to count to three, and if your mouth’s not open, you’re dead.”

Closing his eyes, Caine bit his lip before responding. “Get the boy out of the room.”

“Hah, why? He should see this.”

“Please, he is only a boy.” Caine pleaded.

The other man snorted. “Fine. Ernie, take Teddy to the truck. I’m gonna finish this bastard and then be right behind you. Honk the horn five times if the cops are coming”

“I wanna watch and see him squirm” said the other man with a sick smile.

“There you have it.” Keith responded. “Just cover the kid’s eyes then.” Ernie grabbed Teddy, covering the boy’s eyes with a bloody hand. “And now, the pleasure’s all mine.” With that, Keith grabbed Caine’s head and forcefully shoved himself into Caine’s mouth.

Caine gagged as the other man thrusted. Bile and blood threatened to rise. Trying to fight against the aggressor only prompted Keith to thrust harder and faster.

“Oh god, you feel so damn good. Who’d ever guess a priest could give me this pleasure. Hey Ernie, maybe you should be next. Fuck, this feels good.”

Caine closed his eyes, still trying to fight what was happening. His throat felt ripped and bruised, while the gun barrel was being drilled into his head. He felt light-headed and heavy at the same time. Disgust at the other man and himself tore his mind in two.

“Open your eyes!” Keith commanded with in an exerted voice. “I wanna see all the hate and humiliation in them.”

Caine grudging obeyed. He felt weak, and could feel the blood still seeping from his wounds. And he could easily feel the emotions the other man wanted to see. He hated this other man now, and felt humiliated.

Suddenly, Peter and Kermit surged into the room, guns raised.

“Oh god, Pop!” Peter exclaimed, horrified by what was happening.

Keith breathlessly laughed, “oh no, you’re just in time!” With that he started thrusting faster and rougher, mind filled with lust-filled frenzy. Climaxing, he swore loudly as his hot liquid exploded down the priest’s throat. Caine let out a muffled cry at the pain and revulsion. The other man thrusted a few times before slowly pulling out, his energy spent. Keith pushed Caine away from him, gun still aimed at the incumbent man.

“Don’t you fucking puke. This gun’s still aimed at you.” Keith looked at the two cops that had entered. “And now, Ernie and I are going to take Teddy with us. If you try to stop us, either the priest will be dead or Teddy will.”

“The building is surrounded by cops. There are snipers on the building across from here. Anyway you look at it, you’re both dead men” said Kermit in a too controlled voice, Desert Eagle raised. “Put the guns down.”

Ernie looked to Keith. “What do we do?”

“Shut the fuck up” commanded Kermit.

Caine leaned against the wall. Coughing softly, he moved the hand that was pressing against his abdomen, seeing the blood spilling out at an alarming rate. The second gunshot had gone through his left side, while the shot that Keith had used when he had fired through the door tore a hole in his midsection. Closing his eyes, he knew he had lost too much blood. And he felt sick, both physically and mentally. He wanted to die. Could not live on after what had just happened. Maybe if his son hadn’t seen the violation, but it was too late. He opened his eyes and stared at Teddy, even more pain welling up into his heart. Ernie had his hand wrapped around the boy’s throat. Keith had his handgun pointed at him. Peter and Kermit both had their weapons drawn, pointing at the two men. And Teddy was scared, crying, he kept looking back and forth between him and Peter, hoping one of them could save him. Caine knew he couldn’t. A slight gasp drew his attention back to the doorframe. His father stood there in shock, looking at his dying son.

Coming back into the situation, Caine heard Peter begin to count. Keith pulled the hammer back on his gun. Peter called out a second number. Ernie dropped his weapon and laid down with his hands behind his head. Caine had trouble making out what was being said. His vision was beginning to get hazy and he found it hard to concentrate.

“Get the boy out of here” he heard himself say. Peter nodded and inched closer to the boy. Now that his captor lay face down on the floor, the boy had just stood there scared, unsure of what to do.

“Get behind me, Teddy” Peter said, not losing sight of Keith. “If you lay down your weapon, Keith, you still have a chance to be with your son.”

“I’ll be behind bars! Fuck you, cop. Teddy, come over by your daddy, son. I’ll get us out of here. You want to be with your daddy, right?” Keith, risking a side-glance to his son, saw the boy torn, wanting the love and acceptance that a father is supposed to offer, yet afraid of the monster the man actually was.

Seeing the pain and indecision on the boy’s face, Keith glared back at Caine. “You fucking bastard, you turned my son against me!”

The sound of the gunshot stunned Caine. Keith fell to the floor, eyes of hate staring back at the incumbent priest. Trying to take a breath, he felt his lung refuse to cooperate. Looking down at his chest, he saw a new wound blossom. Strong arms encircled him as he could feel himself slowly slide to the side. Peter filled his line of sight as he felt the younger man apply pressure to the wounds.

“Pop! Pop, pay attention! Help is on the way.” Peter said frantically, speaking to him and saying something to Kermit.

Caine turned his head to the side. The cold, dead eyes of Keith stared back at him. He felt another person apply pressure. His father lifted his head and put something in his mouth. The elder Shaolin smoothed back his hair and kissed him on his forehead.

Bending down to whisper in his ear, Kwai Chang heard his father say the words he had waited sixty years to hear. “I love you, my son.” Caine smiled back at the older man.

Peter once again filled his line of sight. Reaching up his hand, Caine cupped his son’s cheek. His senses couldn’t even feel the smoothness of his son’s skin. Swallowing the rising taste of blood, he whispered, “I love you, Peter, my son. I love you” His voice trailed off at the last few words. A slow, darkening of his vision was making it easier to slip away. Vaguely he heard his father begin to chant softly in Chinese, a prayer to aid his soul. Hands pressed harder on him to stop the bleeding. He wanted to tell his son that he was at peace, but the darkness gently pulled him from conciseness.

*****************************************************

EPILOUGE

A light blue sky held a soft yellow sun. No clouds obscured the horizon as the
bitter cold day seemed to hold its breath. Peter slowly released his and closed
his eyes. The dry air was making his eyes tired, robbing them of moisture. A
few geese chuckled in the distance as the sound of silence calmed his frayed
nerves.

It was hard, seeing his father that way. It was hard, holding in the blood. It
was hard, convincing him to want to live on. It was hard, going on.

Opening his eyes, he shifted his shoulders, easing tight muscles. Putting his
hands in his pockets he stood, waiting. After a moment, a black sedan could be
seen coming up the driveway. After the 'incident', he thought it best to
retreat to Paul Blaisedell's cabin. He missed Paul, his guidance, his wisdom.
He always seemed to know what to say or do, even if he admitted he didn't. But
he was gone, off fighting his demons.

The car stopped and the engine cut out. Peter watched as the front door opened
and Steve Henrick stepped out. Looking as stylish as always, the man
straitened his coat before preceding over to him.

"It was a beautiful drive up here. Peaceful, serene, now I know why you picked
it." The man said in his deep baritone voice. "But it sure is cold." He
followed the line by rubbing his arms for warmth.

Smiling tightlipped, Peter nodded in agreement.

"Got some good news and some bad. Any particular order that you want it?"

"Give me some good."

"Teddy's mother is flying in from Omaha. She'll be here next week. She's also
bringing Teddy's younger half-sister and her new husband."

Peter nodded at the news. Steve had called to tell him that the Center for
Missing Children had contacted him. When Teddy had been put into the system,
his information had been placed into the national database as well. A diligent
caseworker spotted Teddy's photo and contacted Steve. Teddy's mother was alive.
Keith Gearity had kidnapped Teddy during a divorce custody dispute five years
ago, disappearing with the child. It had been welcoming news for Teddy, but
Peter couldn't help but feel a twinge at the forthcoming loss. It was something
akin to losing your own child, he guessed.

Speaking of losing your own child, Peter grimaced. His Grandfather had barely
left his father's side, afraid of losing his son, again. It had been a
harrowing past three weeks. They let his father go from the hospital a few
days ago. He had been through two surgeries, intensive care, and then critical
care. After ministrations from both Matthew and Lo Si, not to mention his
father threatening to walk out, they finally released him, tentatively. Peter
knew that bringing his father up to the cabin would give him the peace and quiet
he was craving.

While in the hospital, Peter noticed that his father had basically shut down,
not wanting to communicate or talk about what happened. The doctors recommended
counseling and rehabilitation, but Peter wasn't sure he'd be able to get his
father to go. The cabin seemed a more natural choice than any hospital or
clinic when it came to healing his father. He knew that the serenity of the
surroundings is where he would find the most comfort and solace.

Matthew had stayed mostly at the hospital. Even Annie had come by. Matthew and
his foster mother had many conversations. She brought over an old photo album
from when Peter was a teen. Even though she couldn't see the photos, she
remembered everything as if she could. She even volunteered to watch Teddy,
something he was extremely grateful for.

The child, while traumatized, was beginning to recover. He had gone back to
school last week and even joined a soccer club. When Peter told him that his
mother was alive, he seemed to glow with happiness. That happiness was soon
overshadowed by the realization that he'd have to leave.

"I take it the bad news is that Teddy will be leaving next week?" Peter asked,
coming out of his thoughts.

Steve nodded. "There seems to be no reason for him not to be able to leave with
his mother."

Peter stared at the cold ground, remaining emotionless at the news.

"It seems as if the mother's home is a safe environment." Steve continued. "And
he'll have a sibling and a family that will help him heal."

Letting out a deep breath, Peter shook his head. "Yeah I know, but I'm gonna
miss him."

Steve chuckled, "so will I. He's the only one to recognize my Armani suit."

The two men paused for a few minutes in silence, observing the surroundings,
lost in their own thoughts. Then, without saying a word, both turned and went
inside.

The inside of the cabin was cozy, wood and stone blended together in a
harmonious natural look. A fire was warming the cabin with its destructive, yet
beautiful flames. Several chairs and bookshelves accented the room, with a
small kitchen opposite of the fireplace. A comfortable looking sofa was placed
by a large picture window, facing so the one seated could look out at the
picturesque landscape.

Matthew glanced up at the visitors, eyes half-lidded from meditation. He had
been sitting most of the afternoon on the sofa, meditating, or so Peter had
thought, but there had been moments when he thought he saw the older man wipe a
tear from his eye.
Peter glanced over to his father and Teddy. Both were sitting at the table.

"Hi Mr. Henrick." A child's voice rang out.

Steve waved to the boy. "Hi Teddy, whatcha working on?"

"Look," Teddy held up a coloring book, "I made Yoda purple!"

Peter and Steve laughed at the brightly colored picture.

"Well, you have quite the imagination and artistic ability. What else you've
been working on?" Steve pulled out a chair and sat across from the youngster.
Nodding a greeting at Caine, the other man nodded back.

"Oh, nothing that interesting, just some math."

"Why don't you tell Mr. Henrick your multiplication table that we have been
working on?" Caine asked softly.

"It's boring."

"But you need to know it. What is one times three?"

"Three."

"Good." With that, the two went over the numbers again. Peter smiled, he loved
how his father could interact with children. He hoped that he had gotten good
practice with him when he was young.

"That is quite impressive, young man, learning all those numbers." Steve
complimented to Teddy. Turning to Caine, he asked, "if you ever want to foster
a child again, I'd be more that happy to place one with you. We always need
good, caring folks to help a child feel special and wanted."

Caine faintly smiled. "Thank you, it is something I may think about."

"Do you want to see my fort?" asked Teddy, jumping up and running over to the
door.

"Sure, why not, it's only twenty degrees out there." Steve got up and followed
the child out, bundling up for the cold air.

Peter and Caine watched out the window as the child happily ran down to a
distant wood pile. A small tent was beside it, aka, his "fort." Steve followed
slower, rubbing his hands for warmth.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Peter asked to no one in particular.

"Yes" his father answered. "He has a strong spirit and knows that he is loved.
But it will take time and patience. He found a mother who missed him, a younger
sister, and a new father who wants to protect and raise him. So yes, he is
going to be okay."

The younger man nodded his head in agreement. "Are you going to be okay?"

His father paused, taking a slight breath.

"Just like the child you have taken in," Matthew Caine interjected, coming
around to stand next to them. "He will fly like an eagle because of what you
have done and the new life he has found. And so will you, my son. He will
remember, but go forward, becoming stronger as each gust of wind becomes more
powerful. He has found many people who love him for who he is and that will be
enough.

"Kwai Chang, my son, can you please forgive this old man? I was wrong and
judged you without knowing who you are. I failed to see the good of what you
have done. I know it will not be easy, but if we both overcame the physical
distance, perhaps we can overcome the emotional distance. Will you please
forgive me?"

Caine bowed his head. "All of us have been separated by forces beyond our
control. When Peter and I were reunited, it was the sun breaking through the
clouds after a long stretch of storms. When you and I were reunited in St.
Adele, it was a comet streaking across the sky, so unexpected yet leaving many
questions in its wake. A part of me wants to get to know you, while another has
many doubts." Caine looked up and stared the other man in the eyes. "Yes, I
will forgive you. And we will be stronger, all three of us, as a family."

Matthew bowed his head and acquiesced to his son's honesty. "To become as a
family would grant this man an eternal peace."

Caine bowed back to his father. Peter, standing there watching, broke out into
a grin.

"Aw, come on, we can do better than that, how about a hug!" He laughed, while
hugging his surprised father. Caine smiled at the unexpected show of affection,
hugging his son back. Then he hugged his father, who was just as surprised as
he was.

Laughing still, Peter put his arm around his grandfather and smiled. "Now
what's this about you trying to marry me off?"


THE END