Disclaimer:I own nothing, only the few people I've created.

A/N: I've had this rattling around in my head for years now, figured I'd just get it out of my system.

"You really think your gonna scare a burglar off with a lightsaber?" asked Cheyenne Montgomery. She, her husband Van, and her mother Reba Hart were standing on their stairs.

"I will if I use the force," came Van's reply as he activated the toy sword, lighting up a section of the dark stars with a blue light. Another rattle came from the kitchen as they moved down the stairs and into the main living room. They moved into the kitchen, ready to swing at whatever was waiting on them. A shadow like figure dove away from the kitchen window and behind the island in the middle of the room. Reba reached over and flipped on the lights as the three of them converged on the island.

"Got ya!" shouted Van as he came around the edge near the refrigerator, lightsaber held over his head, ready to hit someone.

"Are you seriously using a lightsaber?" asked the teen that was propped against the oven, his hands held up in surrender. The teen was ragged, looking like someone who had lived on the street. A small backpack sat in his lap, making it look like the teen was ready to protect it at all costs. He was barefoot and his jeans were torn.

An hour later the whole house was lit up. The teen was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, his arms rapped around his pack like a parent protecting a small child. Everyone in the household was standing around in the kitchen, except for Reba who sat in the chair next to the teen.

"You're going to have to tell me your name sometime," said Reba, breaking the uneasy silence. The teen didn't respond, but rather lowered his chin onto his pack. He looked sorrowful, like he was full of regret. Suddenly, Brock and Barbra Jean burst in through the kitchen door.

"Alright, where is the little snot nosed punk?" asked Brock before his eyesight settled on the teen.

"I have half a mind to call the cops right now young man, what where you thinkin' when you broke in here?" said Brock, almost ranting.

"Knock it off Brock, the kid's had a rough night as it is and you're about as intimidating as a tooth pick," said Reba.

"He is a sinner, do you know what we do to sinners in our church, huh? We pray for them," said Barbra Jean. Kyra rolled her eyes as she leaned against the refrigerator.

"That's still not very intimidating," she said. The teen sat up slightly, unzipping his pack in the process.

"Maim, I'm sorry for disturbing your night and entering your house without permission. But I was trying to get a closer look is all," he said, speaking up for the first time since being caught. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a set of papers and offered them to Reba.

"Just have a look, and you'll never have to worry about seeing me again," he said. Reba reached out and took the papers from the teen. She looked through them, puzzlement and shock filling her.

"These can't be real," she said, looking up at the teen. But she could only find truth in his eyes.

"Every bit of them are," came his reply. Reba returned her attention to the papers and re read them. Finally she let out a sigh.

"Brock, you may want to see these," she said, holding them out. Brock took them and read the papers, holding them close so the others couldn't read over his solder. Then he looked at the teen.

"If this is some kind of joke," he said.

"What would I have to gain by lying?" asked the teen, interrupting Brock with a slight irritation in his voice. Brock returned to his shocked silence.

"What is it, Dad?" asked Cheyenne.

"Your not going to believe this…"