RULES OF SEPARATION
By Wendy : Shywalker

I could see that something was on my son's mind. 'My son.' Did I still have the right to call him that? Peter had the right amount of mothers, he now just seemed to have one father too many.

Since Caine's return, I have tried to keep the promise that I made to a sleeping child so many years ago. A promise that I would keep him safe and loved until he didn't need me anymore.

The haven of love we so gladly gave to this needing child, he soaked like a sponge. Immersing himself in everything we could give him, only then to return that love in the next fifteen years tenfold. I never imagined the pain that relinquishing this role of dad would bring; when my heart would refuse to follow the rules of separation.

I never wanted for Peter to have to choose. When my son found his...real father, his own battle did not go unnoticed. I could see his pain. Feeling torn between us, fearing any slight he may inadvertently cause to either of his fathers. No child, no matter how old should have to choose between those they love.

Caine has the due. He did not willing give up his child to the flames that night. Nor would not have stayed adrift in a sea of strangers, if he believed his child still drew breath. So who am I to claim what is his by right?

"You know I can say anything to you, anytime, about anything."

I smile inside, I'm proud Peter feels this way about me. "That's good." I replied simply. Trying not to allow too much of my emotions to show.

"W.well, why can't I talk to him?"

Why? Oh Peter, there are so many reason's why. I wish I had every answer for your questions. Answers that would take all these painful surging emotions away. I want to calm that spirit that has ached for so many answers, for such a long time.

"Well, he's you father Peter, I'm your...friend..."

No Peter I didn't miss that look you gave me. What I said caused you to react like I had slapped you, but my son, it hurt me more to say it, than for you to hear it.

I continued with half a heart. " Friends are easier to talk to than fathers."

Friend. I use to be both, friend and father.

As I watch you leave not only to protect you father, but attempt to find out who he is; who your are. I want call after you, "You are and always will be my son, even if I have to share you. There are no rules that can change that."

End