"A" Series

"A" Series

God! It hurts. Damn it! This isn't happening. I'm supposed to be at the Agrippa having a drink, forgetting that I'm a cop for a few hours. Instead I'm laying here in this dirty alley, in all this garbage, bleeding--maybe dying.

No, I can't be dying, not here, not now --not alone.

How did this go so wrong? They were just kids, the eldest couldn't have been more than sixteen. He was the youngest, couldn't have been more than twelve, only a boy--no threat.

I turned away, a split second was all it took.

Should be bouncing basketballs, not pulling guns from his pocket--not killing cops.

Pop, I need you, I don't want to die alone, but I'm going to I can feel it. As each drop of blood leaves my body, my life, bleeds away with it.

Move damn it! save yourself. I can't, it hurts--I'm too tired.

I am so cold, but I don't think I'm shivering, I don't think I am moving at all. Cold, still, am I dead already and I just don't know it, no can't be, hurts to much to be dead.

I can just make out the stars, a thousand lights, but even they are losing there shine, becoming a tarnished and dim. I'm losing count as the lights go out.

The darkness is settling over me, a shroud of black. I'm trying to push it away Pop, but its too heavy and I'm too tired.

I hear a noise, help me, please help me!

A Father's Fear - Paul

I have been here before, I hoped never again. To be helpless as your child fights for life, is a pain no parent should have to endure.

God Peter! Why do you always have to be in the wrong place? Why do you always have to be the one pay?

How do I comfort Annie when she gets here, when I can't comfort myself?

He never stirred, so still. His skin was a stark contrast of pale alabaster to the deep red of his blood. I touched his face and the cold and clamminess of it frightened me. The warmth and colour that was Peter was fading in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do but stand by helpless, as they wheeled him away from me.

I have been scared many times, for the lives of friends, even at times for my own, but there's is nothing compared to a father's fear of losing his child forever. It's a fear that starts from the pit of your stomach, aching and burning it's way to your heart.

Peter is mine, as much as he is Caine's--Caine? Does he know, wherever he damn well is this time? Of course he knows, he always knows. He has something with Peter that I can only envy, a bond that surpasses anything I have ever seen before.

He as Peter grew up he wanted to be a cop, like me...he made me so proud--I was honoured, he wanted to be like me. I was wrong, I should have been angry, I should have known, your good and honest heart would put in the line of fire.

Damn it! That is not important the only thing important to me is that you live my son--you have to.

You would leave a hole in my heart that could never be filled I need-- I love you son.

A Distant Anguish - Caine

The pain was agony as my arms clawed, grasping for the comforting touch of my son, but instead I find only the barren despair of empty space.

As my son's suffering pounded at my very being, my legs refusing to hold me any longer, buckled felling me to my knees. My tears flowed as I tried to control the ache and fear that was growing inside of me.

The painful images that Peter's injury conjured in my mind assaulted me. All I could see was Peter's life, as it began to flicker like a candle, dancing in wind; threatening to be snuffed into darkness.

I am left gasping for air as I tried to breath, trying to center the panic that was causing my hands to tremble; my heart to break.

I had seen Peter's face when I left, I knew he was trying to understand, but I also knew I had to go. But now, the guilt of my absence was crushing me, the weight of my decision bearing down, suffocating me.

Fate had been cruel to wait until I was not there to help--to protect you my son. Was this punishment for leaving you again? Then punish me, my son does not deserve this pain, he deserves nothing but happiness and love

I need to be with you Peter, I need to touch you, to let you know, that you was not alone. I need to tell you, my son that I am sorry, not to appease the guilt in my soul but to let you know I love you and that I can not live without you.

I have lost your mother, your light has always radiated from her life force, I will not lose you too Peter. You are all I have left, not only of Laura and our love, but as you stand as your own person-- you are everything to me now.

Wait for me Peter, please wait for me.

A Empty Embrace - Annie

I never regret my blindness, life has been more than generous in so many other ways, my man and my family--all a woman could want. I have never regretted til now, as I long to see what they all try so hard to protect me from--I want to see my son.

Oh Peter, I may live in darkness, but I see your pain, so real in my mind, so bright and sharp as it attacks you. Don't they realise that in trying to protect me from your distress, they make mine worse.

I know Paul will tell me the truth, but even he, will try to protect me from you agonies that you-- our son suffers.

How many times have I faced this possibility with Paul and now you? So many-- so many, that I have lost count, but I would not stop them it's who they are, its what makes them--my two wonderful men.

Your goodness, my son and strength of right is so strong, its a shield that you carry with you, always. But when are you going to realise Peter, that it is not made of steel, that bullets and knifes can penetrate and take you from us-- from me.

Peter, how proud I am as your mother, you have grown into a man, any woman would be proud to call her friend and son. I am so honoured to have been picked to love and be loved by you.

It is too early for me to let go of the touch of your face, your smell--your light.

This ache is of empty arms, of a empty embrace-- it is an ache that can never be filled by anyone-- but you.

A Hidden Rage - Kermit

I can't believe this, across the room I am looking at a child, not a man, not even a teenager -- a child. A child that had yesterday played pretend, with toy guns and now carries the real thing. But it's real blood that he caused to be spilt the ground--it was Peter's blood.

I watch him, looking for a downcast eye, a tear-- a tremble, any indication of remorse -- but there is none. Instead I see a boy standing tall, smiling and proud as he is informed of his rights. My stomach turns when he is told of Peter's condition, as his sniggering reverberates around the room.

My fists clench as I continue to hear his enjoyment of my friends pain. That my friend's life hangs in the balance does not seem to worry the boy, he instead celebrates and prays for the death-- of just a cop. His eyes sparkle as he brags that his friends will give him a medal for this.

I am glad my eyes are hidden from the room, if they could read them, they wouldn't like what they'd see. He's going walk, justice-- that's a laugh. He's a boy they'll cry, well boy or not, he made a man's decision, he made the wrong decision.

I don't have many people that understand me, and take me as I am--Peter is one of few, and to say he is like a brother to me is not a stretch. If that means I would protect and give my life for him, like I would have for David? Then yes, Peter is like a brother.

I have to get out of here, get away from this-- child, before he pays an adult price --before he pays my price.

A Partners Plea - Mary Margaret

I watched as Kermit's rage could not no longer be hidden behind the green shields he wore. His eye's, even though unseen, clearly had never left the boy, evident by his hands contracted into balls of fury at his sides. I watched Kermit as his anger became too much and he forced himself from the room before he did something, that none of us would regret.

I look with contempt at this-- so innocent looking child, and I can't understand how this, so called innocence, can try to kill with such unfeeling callousness. A child is supposed to be soft and impish, not hard and sneering, taking his peer pressure and contempt for the world out on others.

As I look around the bullpen I am struck by the emptiness of the room, oh, I see colleagues and friends but I don't see Peter--I don't see my partner. I am already missing his constant movements, the talking, and the world that had to be saved --and saved at that instant and of course by Peter.

Peter's new battle for life, and he has fought so many over his life time, is like a raw and bleeding wound to us all here. It is so unfair that he should suffer like this--and where is his saviour?

Where are you Caine? Why aren't you here for your son; why aren't you here for me? I miss you, you should be here, reassuring us as you has always done when Peter stepped in it.

I know, I have never understood you Caine, not completely. The man, the priest, a complex jigsaw puzzle. A maze of emotions flowing under the surface with only your son's pain allowing the ripples to break through.

Peter needs to hear you, it takes many voices to get the through that thick head of his, ours alone are not enough. Yours is one voice over all others that could make Peter stay with us--hurry Caine, please hurry.

A Wish, A Prayer: Dreams - Jody

I have had so many wishes; a glory box full of them. The wish, that you had loved me with the same passion that I have loved you with, for so long. The wish that Kira had not only not died, but that she had not come before me. She has always hung over us, a phantom of your past, so that with our likeness, its always her face you saw--I didn't stand a chance.

You guilt and pain over my sister's death, was something you carried with you always and I was the reminder of that guilt and that pain--we didn't stand a chance.

So many wishes, some many hopes. Please, understand Peter, I'm not blaming you--far from it. You were always honest, with me, you loved me but you weren't in love with me. You couldn't help the way you felt, I tried to understand that--I'm still trying.

Oh Peter! I can't lose you too. Too much death and pain, it's too much for me, I can't bear the thought of losing you.

Why Peter?

Why do you have to wear that heart of yours on your sleeve, where everyone can see it? Why do you have to be the one to save the world?

As I sit in this small hospital chapel praying for you, I can't help but smile, I have the answer, I've always had it-- it's the reason I love you. You were just being Peter-- you could never be anything else.

I can endure you not being mine, never having you as a lover, but I cannot suffer living without you-- living without my best friend.

A Nobody - The Boy

It was so easy, the cop was such an easy target. This poor little innocent boy that he pushed away to the side and forgot about, I wouldn't hurt him or so he thought.

Man! His face when I shot him, it was so cool, he couldn't believe I'd done it to him. Me! A nobody, had done and gone and killed him.

I could see his eyes, as he was fallin', they was askin', " why did you kill me?" Man, I just stood there and laughed, "one less cop in this world, Pig!" I remember spitting at him.

I looked over to the others, I was so proud. I had done somethin' they hadn't been able to do and in doin' it, I had saved them--I was a hero. But instead of thankin' me, they ran and left me, didn't say a word of thanks for what I had done for them--not a word.

I tried to get away but some other pigs caught me, but I ain't worried, you see--I'm just a little boy.

As they push me through the doors, of the station, I'm smilin' because they cain't touch me. They glare at me and want to know my name and address, hey I tell 'em, I got nothin' to lose. There won't be no one home, there never is. Even when the old man's body is there his mind is drowning in the bottom of a bottle. Anyways he hadn't been home for a week--who gives a shit, let them waste their time trying to find the old drunk.

I wish they would hurry up, I have things to do, my friends are going to want to be talkin' to me.

These cops are just standin' spinnin' their wheels, when they know they are goin' to have to let me go, they might as well do it now save paper work.

What! I don't believe it, he's still alive, that pig is still alive, I knew I should have hit him again. Now what's the gang going to say? This isn't fair he's supposed to be dead--shit!

A Drowning Man - The Father

He has done it again, the little shit has gone and done it again, but this time he has really gone and done it. The little fucker shot a cop this time, not that I care, about the cop or the stupid kid for that matter.

The way those cops looked at me, you would swear it was my fault. Hey I didn't put the gun in the little bastard's hand and I certainly didn't pull the fucking trigger, he did that all by himself. This not my responsibility-- he is not my responsibility.

I knew I shouldn't have come back to this dump, never anything but a bed to come back to. Fucking kid! As useless as his mother. The whore, was nothing but trouble, just like her kid. Why do I even bother?

What am I supposed to do now run around trying to save his ass, well hell will freeze over first. The kid did it all by himself and he get himself out of it. I gotta teach the kid right, he plays the game he plays by the rules, just like I had to when I was a kid. Nobody was there to pick up after my ass, gotta teach the kid right.

I should have known the kid would turn out bad with a mother like he had, anything in pants or more like out of them. This is all her fault if she had been a better mother, none of this would have happened.

A Bedside Vigil 1 - Paul 2

I feel like I have been kicked in the stomach, as I looked down at my son's so still form. He is so hurt, I have to stop myself from reaching out to him, pulling him into my arms. Instead, I carefully reach out my shaking fingers to gently glide across the top of his, gingerly I take the tips of his fingers in mine. Such a small touch, too light, I worry he won't feel it--I need to know that he feels me, that he knows he is not alone.

He is so scared of being alone. I promised you Peter, you would never be that way again. Now you are in the loneliest place you could be and I can't help you--the boy broke my promise.

Damn! I told myself not to do this, crying is not going to help you, but you have me scared this time son--and you don't want to do that to me do you? So come on Peter, open those eyes of yours, look at me--I'm begging, please look at me.

Okay not yet--I haven't seen your father, Lo Si tells me he is on his way but he has long way to come,<You wait for him, you hear me. That's an order from your captain -- more than that a plea from your fathers>

I remember all that you were from the moment I met you, I remember all you became from that time. You are everything I father could wish for in a son and yet so much more. I am so grateful that you were sent to me, you know that? You stopped being my foster son, a long time ago--you became my life and breath just as your mother and sisters are.

So you see son. you have no right to leave me, after all you the only other man in the house, two to three have always been better odds than one to three.

As I lean over to kiss his forehead, I whispered one more order in his ear<Don't you leave son, I love you and I'll be damned if I let go>

A Bedside Vigil 2 - Annie 2

My fingers carefully inch, painstakingly slow through the tubes and wires that seem to be the only thing that are keeping my son with us. When finally, I find his chest, I gently lay the palm of my hand over his heart, inhaling through touch the beat, until the rhythm of our breathing has become one.

I don't know how long I have sat here soaking in your essence with this sensation of our contact. Long enough that I find, I have to wipe the tears that are now falling down my face. Long enough that my heart is aching to hold you in my arms and just long enough to know, that I would trade places with you in a single heartbeat.

What can I say that your dad hasn't begged of you, that we all have prayed for?

Only the prayers of a mother, who's loves her child with all her heart and soul. Who would fight hell to save the life of her son--oh, if only it was that easy.

Oh Peter, it must be so hard to come home from where you are, or you would have woken up by now. I know sometimes it can be just too hard, but if anyone can do it you can.

I would like to say rest...sleep my son, but I can't, I love you too much and I am far too selfish to let you go.

Don't sleep too long Peter, my empty arms are aching to hold my son.

A Bedside Vigil 3 - Caine 2

Everything I had been feeling, so vast in it's emotional and physical pain, was nothing when compared to the face to face, of my son's reality. All the air left the room, as our pain mingled to become one, continuing it's piercing journey into my heart.

At last I take a breath and I rush to your side, I have to feel you, the touch of skin, know your not a dream--that you have not left me.

The first touch is like fire and as I run my hand through your hair, I saviour the life that still tenaciously holds on.

The distance that has kept us apart, claws at me, my guilt leaves it's scratches on my soul. How can you ever forgive me for not being here when your body and heart needed me so badly?

But this is not the time for my pain. I must banish my heartaches, bury them to a place where you will not be able to sense them. You must be free to rest and heal--you must be free to return.

I know how lost you must feel...lost and alone, but you must hear...feel the love.

I can feel it Peter, the love, it still lingers in this room, your family and friends, their passion for your life, it still flows here. You cannot turn away from such passion, you cannot leave them to suffer without you.

I lean close to you, tenderly caressing the side of your cheek with the back of my fingers. This caress is my heart, my prayers, my love, this caress is all I can do to tell you--to show you, I am here. Feel it my son, sense it, come toward it--come to me.

Take all I have it is yours... my strength... my love...my life is yours...anything...just come back to me.

A Father's Anger, A Father's Pain - Paul & Caine 3

When I saw Caine emerge from the end of the hallway, all I could think of was the pain his last disappearance had cause my son. Yes, my son. I have earned the title of father. I earned it with my worry, my love, my pride. So, as I saw him quietly make his way toward me, I didn't know whether to welcome him or slug him.

Annie, with her usual intuition, picked up what I was thinking; begging at me with a tug of my sleeve. With a quick glance and reassuring pat of her hand, I decided for the former and welcomed Caine back.

Caine had been in there for an hour when he reappeared, looking at me with a silent unanswered question.

The spell was broken by Annie's voice. "I think I will sit with Peter for a while." Taking her hand and with a backward glance at Caine, I helped her to her feet, and walked her into our son's room.

Caine still stood patiently waiting as I re-entered the hallway. We both stood looking at each other, but Caine was the first to voice the words.

"You wish to speak to me." It was not a question, it was a statement of fact.

I looked at Caine, wanting to say so much, but instead walked over to the window and stared out over the car park, "Why?" Was all I could ask.

Caine shrugged, I saw his own guilt gnawing at him, "I needed..."

I didn't even let him finish. All Peter's pain and frustration's became mine and the words flowed with them. "You needed! What about what Peter needed. You left without a word Caine, No letter...nothing. He just walks into your home and your gone...He just puts his heart back and you rip it out again. I know the past wasn't your fault, but there is not excuse for what you keep doing to him now."

I watched, as my words wounded Peter's father and heard the quiver in his voice, as he tried to answer my anger. "When my son wakes, I will ask his forgiveness for not being here for him and for not explaining my reasons for leaving him again."

"But what if he doesn't wake, Caine? Have you thought of that?" I knew it was a low blow but I was running on fear now and there was no stopping my harsh words. " Have you ever thought when you do one of these midnight flits of yours, what it would do to Peter if something happened to you, just like it has to him and he never got to say goodbye..again...have you?"

"Paul! That's enough!" Annie's voice ordered from the doorway of Peter's room.

I was startled and ashamed as I turned to see Annie, red faced and stunned by my outburst, "What would Peter think if he could hear you talking to Caine like this? This is not Caine's fault, and words that you will be sorry that you said, will not help Peter."

I knew she was right; she always was and I knew I had gone to far, but I couldn't put the words back; I needed to be with my son.

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

I looked to see Annie quietly apologise, as she tenderly took Paul's arm. "I am sorry Caine, he's just scared, we all are. He didn't mean his words."

Paul stopped, rubbing his forehead, as he gently shook his head. "Annie is right, as always. I am sorry Caine. I can't say I agree with the way you do some thing's, but you would never intentionally hurt Peter. I had not right to take my pain out on you."

I bowed to my son's parents as they disappeared into Peter's room. Paul is right. My legs began to shake, my guilt is a weight my legs can no longer hold. Finding a chair, I fall.

Pondering what Paul's angry words had meant, I see truth the of them. They were spoken with the fear and love of a father,but they honest.

What would I do if Peter was to die? Would his last thoughts of me be ones of anger and betrayal? What would I leave my son in his last moments, but pain?

Forgive me Peter. Forgive my legacy of pain. Please Forgive Me!

A Lost Soul - Peter 2

Where am I? It's dark, can't move, what the hell? Damn it! Think Peter... I don't remember what...the child...god the child!

I was worried for him, scared he would be hurt... what was I thinking? The child...that's right, I was scared for him. All those faces, looking for trouble, stand back here, out of the way...protect...<pain>

The child I had to save the child... I moved him out of harms way, I remember that. Then came the pain ... No, there was more, some thing...<it hurts, can't think>

Dad?... Pop?... No Pop's gone... must help myself.

Okay, remember, I heard something and I turned. The innocent face was gone...a hideous smile had taken it's place...What have you done with the boy?

Give him back.

The smile dissolves, the face is, I turn away...<pain> No don't want to think, it hurts.

But I need to know.

The face is there again, but this time I don't turn away.

I see the gun...I see the boy...NO!...I see the bullet...The pain...Why?

The child...he did this to me...why?

God why?...you're a kid...a kid with a gun...a kid who wanted my life.

Did you get it?

Am I dying...Oh god am I dead?

A Confrontation - Kermit & The Boy 2

I just couldn't hold myself back any longer, I had to talk to the boy. I needed to hear why he had decided that my friend deserved to die. My request had been met with silence, until I promised to talk to this... child in full view of an audience, for the...boys sake.

He could of refused to talk to me but he didn't. He sauntered in, with not a care in the world. For a moment I regretted my request as my anger threatened to overflow into action, but I stayed in control for Peter. The answers I craved were as much for him as they were for me.

I stayed seated in Peter's chair, trying to look as unconcerned as his manner projected. But beneath the surface of my skin, it was a different Kermit-- it was the old Kermit, who was screaming for justice.

"Well is he dead yet?" He spat, pulling his arm from the Broderick's grasp.

"You alright with this one, Kermit?" The Sarge asked me, throwing a disgusted look toward the boy.

"Kermit? Your kiddin' ain't ya?" The boy laughed. His voice grating down to my bones.

"I won't be far, if you need me." Broderick barked, as he started to leave, then leaning into the boy." And I wasn't talking to you little shit."

For a moment, there was a flash of uncertainty as he looked at my silent form, but this mask of callousness quickly returned. "Ooh, am I supposed to be scared?"

"No," I said, as I shook my head, "your too tough to scare, I know that."

The boy looked around the room, knowing full well, he was the center of attention. It puffed his chest, as he casually threw himself into the chair, to sit opposite me.

"You like this," I gestured to the number of eyes that were focused on him," your very proud of yourself."

The boy's face dropped it's smile. " No, your wrong," he glared, as he leaned toward me, " I'm not. I fuckin' missed. Anyway, you didn't answer my question, did the pig bite the big one or not?"

I flinched, at his heartlessness, which brought another smile to his face.

"If you are asking whether my friend is alive, yes he is, and he will stay that way. If you think that little piss ant like you could ever kill him, your wrong. He is hundred times the man you will ever grow up to be..if your lucky to grow up at all."

I trying to read this boy, was this all bravado or could a child be this cold-blooded. I had met a lot of sadistic and cruel men in my time, changed by war and death, but a boy this bent so early life, I just didn't understand.

"Look, ask what you want to ask, I'm outta here in twenty minutes anyway."

The boy's insolent voice broke through my wandering thoughts. Looking at this boy was making my stomach turn but I had to know, "Why?"

The boy leaned back in the chair, ignoring my question, as he looked indifferently around the room.

I leaned forward and asked again," Why? Why would try to kill an innocent man, who's only mistake was to try and help you?"

"None of you fuckin' cops are innocent." He snarled loud enough for the room to here.

"No, don't give me the home boy shit, you haven't got a record, never even been picked up for picking your nose. What's the real reason you gunned my friend down?"

The boy stopped looking around and stared at me his eyes cold and dead. "You wanna know why?" He asked, leaning toward me again, his voice dropped to a whisper, "Because I wanted to."

That was it? This boy had the answers of a monster, answers that would only break Peter's heart.

I stood, looking at he boy, only managing to shake my head, "I feel sorry for you."

The boy stood to try and face me, "Don't feel sorry for me, I'm going to fine and with any luck your friend might still die and my day will be made."

"No," I said to him," you don't understand, the only thing that died the day you decided to become a killer, was you."

The boy shifted nervously from one foot to the other, "What? Are you threatening me, man?"

I had to admit to myself I was enjoying the boy's sudden anxiety, "No," I stated with out emotion," your a nothing, not worth one more minute of my time. But some where out there, today... tomorrow...next month? Some where out there you will meet another you, and it will be you laying, bleeding on the ground, but you won't have any friends that give a shit."

The boy face starting to burn red as he choked on my words, I couldn't look at him any more and called to Broderick to get him out of sight.

[end Part-15 -Kermit & The Boy-2--??]

*The debate over this child, is wonderful, but I did want to make it clear that some people are, whatever the circumstances (born or made mean) and are never sorry for what they do. No one has the right to take their frustration's and pain out on the innocent or some one who just happens by.

I could have made the child sorry for what he did, a more compassionate character, but I really felt this boy would not be sorry. So no matter how ugly he is to look at, he is part of the society we have now. We have to learn to deal with ugly as well as the beautiful parts of life.*

A Discussion In Pain 1 - Paul & Annie 4

I had been devastated when I heard Paul's pain so verbally attack Caine. I didn't mean to yell. Paul was living the same despair as Caine, but I could not allow him to inflict any more anguish on Peter's father.

As soon as we entered our son's room, I felt Paul's body tremble and as I opened my arms he allowed himself to swallowed by them.

"I'm so sorry Annie, I didn't mean to say those things to Caine..." Pushing himself away from me, I felt his confusion, "or maybe I did. Maybe I wanted him to hurt, like Peter's hurts. I just don't know any more, Annie."

I heard Paul walk to our son's still unmoving side, and his heart felt, whisper; a plea of return and love.

"Paul, are you all right?"

A deep breath caught my ears, as Paul came to my side. An arm encircled my waist and his lips lightly brushed mine." I'm fine beautiful, we will all be fine."

"But you have to go?" I always knew when work was about to drag my man away. Reaching up to his cheek I smiled." It's all right Paul, Caine is here, we will look after our son until you get back."

"I know, he's in good hands, with you...and Caine."

I felt his head turn toward the bed as he called quietly, " And don't you even think of going anywhere and that's an order detective Caine."

With a warm kiss on my cheek he was gone.

I made my way to the chair that had become, my second home, and carefully found my son's hand. "Oh baby, do you know what you indecision is doing to this family?"

A Discussion In Pain 2 - Annie & Caine 4

I don't know how long, I had sat there, or how long Caine had been in the room, but I did eventually pick up on his presence. "You know Caine, you are the only one that can sneak up on me. How long have you been there?"

She was right, I had been standing there, watching the love and strength, my son's mother tried to pass on to her child. "I have not been here long. Do you wish me to leave?" I did not want to intrude on her pain, or her time with Peter.

Always so polite and controlled, our Caine, but I could see, maybe not with my eyes, but with my heart. I could see his suffering; his love for his son, that burned with such passion, that it's light seared you to your soul. No wonder Peter agonised so, when his father would leave. To lose this light, even for a short time, must be like the end of the world. "No, please come and sit with me, maybe together we can talk some sense into this stubborn boy of ours."

I looked at Peter, and the gentle strokes of his mother's hand on his<You are so loved Peter, how could you not want to come back, unless...I have left you just that one time too many. Am I the reason you have not come back to us? Is your anger toward me the barrier to your return?>

"Caine? " I reached out my hand, trying to bring Peter's father back from that place of guilt, he had made for himself. "Please don't do this, Peter will come back to us. He knows I will tan his backside if he doesn't." < Oh god, I really wished I believed my own words> "We all make our way in life as best we can, but we all tend to slip up and make mistakes, even a shaolin priest is not perfect."

I smile, I have never professed to be perfect, is that the way I seem to my son? Is that what Peter thinks he has to measure up to? " Perfect? No, far from perfect Annie. I have made many mistakes where Peter is concerned. I only hope he will come back to us, so I get a chance to try and make amends for just a few of them."

"We all want that chance," I sigh," we all just want him to open his eyes and smile."

A Beacon Calls - Caine & Peter 6

The movement was slight, like the viewing a whisper of wind. A flutter of life was beginning to stir in my son. At first wishful thinking? Then hope bore forth part of it's reality, as Peter's eyes stirred ...but they still did not open.

*Help me! I want to go home so bad ...but I can't ... it's still there... waiting for me.*

I take your hand pressing it between mine, an act I have played out so many times. Feel my strength, feel my love. Take hold of them, let it guide you back to us.

*I feel a familiar heart...No! ... It's a trick...he's gone...it has to be a trick.*

I feel your fear, I feel your pain. I wish I could tell you it will not hurt when you come back, but I cannot. The pain is still here, you cannot run away from it. If you do, then you also run away from the love and the people that love you.

*Maybe not a trick ... all waiting patiently for me come home ... what do I do?.*

A vibration, a tremor of returning life. I stand, leaning my lips to your ear, as I run my fingers through your hair. I try to touch you mind, I try to touch you heart. My son we are waiting-- you are nearly here.

* If I continue this journey home... the pain will be there ... waiting for me.*

More than a flutter this time. Please Peter, I plead in your ear. I see a tear slip down your face, to be joined by mine, now a single tear--always a single heartbeat.

*Maybe pain is waiting and yes it will hurt ... But they're also waiting ... their love is waiting.*

Fingers move, gently touching mine, I return the hard won gift. Eyes open for only a second in time; long enough for our eyes to meet. I kiss you cheek, "I love you Peter."

*I know, Pop ... Love you too.*

A Strength Renewed - Peter 7

I have woken from the a nightmare, illusions of innocence forever lost--or are they?

I have had time to think on what transpired that night. What passed between his eyes and mine. A moment trapped in time--a moment when a decision was acted without thought.

I fought so hard to stay away from this pain, wanting a place to hide. To cower from this ugliness, that in my despair, I believed had killed my heart--I was wrong.

I have found that this pain is only a small part of me. I will not allow it to take the best of what I am, or what I can be. I was wrong to hide from it, I had to face the cruelty that can be man--or boy.

I have seen forgiveness in my father's eyes, forgiveness for the child inside a man's actions. Mercy--a simple act, one he does with a heart full of love for all.

I am afraid I cannot forgive that easy. I believe forgiveness should be earned, with another simple act. If that same child accepted his guilt and asked for my pardon, then maybe my heart would open for him--until then, there will be no absolution from me.

Now is for Peter Caine coming to terms with what I have seen, and faced, but I now believe that I am stronger than one persons actions. I will not give anyone the satisfaction of taking my strength, my love for life or my love for the people in it.

If I give in to hate and pain, I lose myself and everything around me. No one can take these things from me unless I allow them to and I don't--I won't.