DISCLAIMER: I do not have or own JQ, nor do I have any rights to them. I have no affiliation with Hanna-Barbera, Time Warner, or the Cartoon Network; I am writing this purely out of love and respect for JQ. This is written strictly by a fan, for the enjoyment of other fans, and I have received no payment or other compensation, so don't sue me!

CATEGORY: Family, Past, Vignette RATING: PG ARCHIVE: No archiving without permission.

NOTE: If you like this story, thank Meach. It was actually part of a longer piece that is in the works, but didn't seem to fit. I sent it to her and told her I didn't know what I was going to do with it. Meach informed me what I would be doing with it. So, I did what I was told, and here it is. So, many thanks to Meach for this story's existence (and for the longer one which is forthcoming). As always, thanks to Helen for the spelling and punctuation, and for keeping both Meach and I sane. Enjoy, Spense September 2001

INTROSPECTIVE: HEALING

Takes place approximately 1 year after Rachel's death prior to Hadji joining the family; Jonny is seven, and the setting is Palm Key.



Benton docked the boat out at the wharf in the late morning sunshine, glad to be home after being delayed by the previous nights sudden squall. He'd really hated having to stay on the mainland after the day's meetings, but it really couldn't be helped. There'd been a small craft warning. He'd worried . . . The thought was cut off by a small blond projectile rocketing towards him down the wharf.

His young son slammed into him at warp speed, nearly knocking him over as his arms wrapped tightly around Benton's waist as far as they could reach, and he buried his head into Benton's abdomen. Benton looked up at the tall, calmly smiling, deeply tanned, white-haired man who had followed Jonny more slowly.

"Is everything all right?" Benton asked in concern. Jonny had a hard time being separated from his father. And he had never been very fond of storms, but now, after . . .

Race began to reply when his son broke in. "Me and Race made a fort in the living room last night," he said looking up at his father, beaming. "We 'tended the thunder was enemy fire. It was cool! We camped there all night." Jonny finished excitedly.

Benton relaxed as he realized that his son was his usual exuberant self, and not the traumatized child he had so often come home too in the last year. He'd been concerned about Jonny given the storm and his unexpected overnight delay, but everything seemed to be in order.

He because aware of the small bulldog puppy cavorting around them. "How did Bandit handle the storm?" He asked his son about his small charge.

"He was scared at first, but then he was ok," Jonny answered, detaching himself from his father to pick up his tiny dog. Bandit answered by enthusiastically licking any part of his young master he could reach. Jonny laughed delightedly.

Benton looked up and met Race's amusement filled eyes knowingly. Bandit wasn't the only one scared by the storm at first. As a matter of fact, Bandit didn't usually care much about them, however, Jonny certainly did. 'Thank you' he mouthed silently to his friend. Race just grinned and nodded a silent acknowledgement, letting Jonny tell his father about the evening. Benton knew Race would fill him in later.

"Come on, Dad!" Jonny yelled to his father, as he and Bandit took off for the house.

"Coming, Jonny!" He called back as he turned to get his briefcase, then joined Race in walking up the path. They walked in companionable silence as Benton watched his son, who was detained periodically in order to collect the detouring puppy.

Bandit had been one of Race's more inspired ideas. The dog really seemed to give Jonny something else to think about rather than the loss of his mother. The latest in a long list of good ideas, really, Benton thought to himself. He though in wry amusement of Race's addition to the household. It hadn't been easy, and Benton himself had made it as hard as Jonny had.

Phil Corvin's insistence on live-in protection had been an added blow to Benton following the death of his wife. It still made his blood boil to think of it. Protection! If I-1 had provided protection when Benton had asked for it, Rachel would still be alive. Her laughing face, bright hair, and sparkling eyes hovered for a moment in front of him. Jonny's face. He swallowed hard. God, how he missed her!

Rachel had been assassinated on a stormy evening at the theatre. They had left Jonny with a babysitter and had gone on a 'date'. Benton had been so busy with work that he and Rachel just hadn't had much time for each other, so they made plans for a special evening. Jonny had thrown a fit. He had always been frightened of storms, and was murder on babysitters. And as if the storm hadn't been enough, when Benton returned home he had had to tell his son that his mother wasn't coming back, ever again. It wasn't that she didn't want to come back, it was that she couldn't come back. That something had happened, something bad. How did you explain death to a child barely six years old?

Jonny had had a very special bond with his mother. Benton knew he could never come close to having that with Jonny---not that they weren't close, far from it. Just, well, Rachel and Jonny seemed to be able to communicate without speaking. It had been amazing from day one.

Now, however, after being told that his mother was never coming back, Jonny didn't handle any kind of separation from Benton well at all. The few times Benton did have to leave Jonny would throw a tantrum of spectacular proportions. Then, after finally calming down, would desperately ask Benton over and over if he was coming back, never seeming to be reassured by the affirmative answer. It broke Benton's heart, and was the only thing that penetrated his own grief. There were times when he even wondered if it might have been easier on Jonny had he actually witnessed his mother's death. But Benton would shudder even at the thought, and think no, the trauma would have been far greater. He had seen Rachel die and he wasn't handling it any better than Jonny. But still it was heartrending to know that while he was gone his son would search the water day after day, waiting for him to come home, just as Jonny still occasionally watched for Rachel when he was upset.

But finally, strides were being made. Within the last few months, Jonny was beginning to sleep through the nights, and the tantrums and bedwetting incidents were far fewer. And Jonny hadn't been the only one with problems. Benton also was finally beginning to heal. He thought he'd probably never be whole again, but he had to go on for his son, and that was that. But in the beginning he'd been oblivious to everything except his own grief, even his own child. Well, Benton really didn't want to go there, he still felt horribly guilty.

Benton had thrown himself into work. He worked often up to 20 hours a day. Since he couldn't sleep, he may as well work. Corvin had pointed out, rightly, that Jonny still needed protection, and he promised to send the best. Since Benton couldn't argue about that, he grudgingly accepted the Agent assigned. Agent, oh, what was the man's name, oh, Andrews! That was it . . . Agent Andrews.

Benton was still in such a fog of depression and guilt, it was all he could do to get through the day. And since Jonny looked so much like Rachel, it was hard to hold himself together when he saw his son, but he did his best. One day passed into another unknowingly. Benton was making crucial discoveries, and his career was skyrocketing. That didn't matter much to him, he worked just to get through the day.

He knew Jonny was have serious problems as well, but when he saw him, everything seemed to be alright. At least, that's what he thought until one night about 2am he left his lab after yet another marathon, emotion- numbing session. He stopped to check on Jonny, as he always did. As he made his way down the dark hall, he realized with surprise, that he seemed to be seeing his son sleeping more than he did awake. 'Now when did that happen', he mused to himself. He'd have to remedy that. Jonny deserved better.

He realized as well, that he really didn't know what day it was anymore either. Benton was reflecting on this surprising fact as he opened the door to Jonny's room. The room was dark, with only the unshaded open windows admitting light from the star filled night sky. Benton was suddenly shocked to find no Jonny---just an empty bed.

Benton was panicking and trying to think of his next move when a small movement in the darkest corner of the room caught his eye. Huddled into the corner, wedged between the wall, and the side of the dresser, was Jonny, making himself as small as possible. The faint light from the window glinted of the tracks of tears on Jonny's face.

"Jonny?" Benton asked softly. A very faint sob, almost inaudible, was his only answer. "Son?" He asked again gently, moving over to where Jonny was huddled. "What's the matter?" Benton bent down on one knee and reached for the boy.

Jonny flinched at Benton's touch, and if anything, made himself smaller yet. Benton persisted in picking the little boy up, and carrying him over to the bed. Jonny had yet to make an perceptible sound.

Benton sat down on the bed, leaning back against the pillows and headboard, stretching his legs out, and settled Jonny on his lap. He snagged a nearby quilt and wrapped it around the still, cold form of his son, and hugged the child close.

"Jonny," he asked again soothingly, "what's the matter?" Benton made a huge effort to control the anxiety he was feeling. Keeping his tone soft and warm, he whispered coaxingly into his son's ear, "You can tell me."

Benton felt Jonny's small body shudder, and finally, in a barely discernible whisper, he asked "How come you don't like me any more? Did I do something to make Mom go away? Is that why?"

Benton was momentarily stunned into immobility. "What . . . Jonny, I love you. How could you possibly think that I don't like you?" It was all he could do to keep his tone quiet and not shout. Everyone had thought that Rachel was the emotional one and that had always given her fits of laughter. They just don't know you as well as I do, she'd laugh.

He just couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What on earth gave you that idea? And no, there was nothing you did to cause Mom's death, son. We've talked about this before." Many times, he added to himself grimly.

"You're always in your lab," came the faint reply.

Benton mentally dammed himself, and looked down at the top of his son's head. Jonny had yet to look directly at him. "Yes, I've been busy." He thought a moment, suddenly realizing that Jonny hadn't visited him in his lab for some time. He used to come say hello several times a day. He and Rachel would often just visit, or 'kidnap' him for lunch, or . . . Benton shut down that thought, it was too tender to touch, and he needed to concentrate on his son now; Rachel's son; and not fall apart yet again.

Jonny had continued to visit after Rachel's death---at first, Benton realized. He would always stop what he was doing a take a moment for his small son. To admire the latest seashell, or drawing, or . . . Whatever. But, come to think of it, Jonny hadn't been into see him for, well, several weeks now. Had it been that long? Benton knew he was working too much, trying to block out Rachel's death, but still. "You haven't been to visit me for quite awhile, son. Why not?"

"Agent Andrews says I shouldn't. He says you're too busy and I mustn't intrub . . . introo . . . bother you. He says you're working on really important stuff and I shouldn't get in your way. That you don't have time." Jonny's tears started in earnest. "Agent Andrews tells me to go play. He doesn't have time for me either, he just reads.'

"Jonny," his father commanded in a firm voice. "Look at me." Jonny looked up at Benton for the first time, the blue eyes wide and brilliant with tears. Benton's face was as kind as his eyes, the exact same azure blue as his son's, met Jonny's gaze directly. He said deliberately to his son, "Agent Andrews is wrong."

Jonny started at that blunt statement, and frowned, "Wrong?" Benton caught the slight frown and repeated decisively, "Wrong. I will always have time for you. If I'm busy, I will tell you myself, NOT Agent Andrews. You can always come see me."

"But, Agent Andrews said . . ." Jonny began.

"I'll talk with Agent Andrews in the morning," Benton cut in firmly, thinking he would probably get very tired of hearing 'Agent Andrews said'. Benton was going to have a long talk with Phil. Agent Andrews was history. Benton disliked the idea of an on-sight agent anyhow, and he felt incredibly guilty for not having kept better tabs on the situation. He never thought that Jonny wouldn't come to him if there was a problem, or that the agent would keep Jonny from him. Obviously, there was another agenda, one to make sure that Benton had the time to produce for the agency. Well, that was over.

Jonny looked up at his dad's face with relief beginning to show. "I don't like Agent Andrews," he said softly. "Agent Andrews doesn't like me either."

Benton was shocked again, for the umpteenth time that evening. His son generally liked everyone and thought everyone liked him. Rachel had worked hard to keep that bright innocence alive. Difficult given his line of work, but she had succeeded admirably. For Jonny to make those statements about someone whose care he was in made Benton's blood run cold. "Agent Andrews will be leaving," Benton said strongly.

Jonny turned his face to Benton's chest and went limp. "Good," he said, barely audible. Benton rubbed his son's back soothingly.

"Would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow? Just the two of us?" He asked. "I could really use a day off; especially a day off with you." Benton suddenly realized that this was true.

Jonny nodded enthusiastically and looked up at this father with a huge, sweet smile. Benton suddenly realized how long it had been since he seen his son look so happy. He laughed, and said, "I take it that's a yes!"

Jonny grinned and nodded, then settled down again in contentment, drifting off to sleep in his father's lap. Benton held him the rest of the night, thinking. When Agent Andrews came to get Jonny up the next morning, he was surprised at the scene in front of him, and even more surprised at the steel in Dr. Quest's quiet voice as he informed him to get off the island and out of his sight as soon as he packed his things. Agent Andrews obeyed. Most people did when faced with Benton in such a mood. There was a core of pure titanium in his spine, and more passion and emotion than anyone bargained for in the brilliant scientist. Still waters did indeed run deep, and deeper in Benton Quest than most.

As the next week passed prior to the next agent arriving, Benton spent most daylight moments with Jonny. Once the boy was in bed, Benton would head for his lab. He still couldn't sleep, so he may as well work. But Benton felt incredibly guilty as he came to realize that Jonny was not sleeping through the nights either, not even close to it, and apparently hadn't been since Rachel's death. After he had assured Jonny that he wasn't 'pestering' him, Jonny began waking him the few times Benton did sleep, or finding him during his late night lab sessions, usually at least 2-3 times each night. Sometimes he was having a nightmare, sometimes he had an 'accident', or other times he just wanted to reassure himself that Benton was still there, and hadn't 'gone away' like Mommy.

Usually, it didn't take long to get him back to bed, but the conclusion was unmistakable, Jonny was understandably as traumatized as Benton by Rachel's death, and Benton, locked away in his own grief, hadn't noticed how outwardly his son's was manifesting itself. Selfishly, he had assumed Agent Andrews would let him know when and if problems were arising. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the case, and instead, had created additional problems. Benton vowed that this would not happen again.

Benton realized now, as he watched Jonny head up the path to the house in front of him, that this was probably the biggest factor in learning to deal with his own grief, and get it under control.

So, with that being how matters stood, Benton and Jonny met Agent number 2. Jonny greeted the agent with his usual openness. Benton was relieved. He would have hated to see that trust tarnished at this early age. Phil had promised that this agent would work out better than Agent Andrews. Agent O'Hara seemed fine. Fine that is until Benton, who was much more active in tracking the interaction between his son and the agent this time, had unexpectedly checked on Jonny late one afternoon. He'd found the man out soaking up the sun, and Jonny locked in his room sobbing, where he had apparently been all day, and the last few as well, it appeared. The dual purpose seemed to be to do his lessons, and to keep from 'pestering' his father while he worked. Agent O'Hara's program was to work on his tan, and again, make sure Benton was free from interruption. Jonny's education and well-being seemed to have little place in the agent's daily schedule.

Benton lost it. All the passion that Rachel had known existed, erupted to the fore as Benton placed a blistering call to Phil Corvin after evicting Agent O'Hara. Holding an inconsolable Jonny, Benton let Phil have it with both barrels before slamming the phone down hard enough to nearly break it.

Phil came personally with agent number 3 a few days later. Benton waited coldly, holding a very subdued Jonny, who was looking with mistrust at the new arrival. This Agent Bannon seemed to be more of the same. Hadn't Phil gotten the point yet? He and Jonny just wanted to be left alone. He sighed slightly. Jonny picked up his father's mood and clung to him, turning his face into Benton's shoulder, not looking up at his new protector.

Poor Race, Benton remembered with a grin. He and Jonny had made it pretty rotten for him that first day. Race never revealed what he knew of the other agents, but right off, he had started differently. Bent had reluctantly handed Jonny over to Agent Bannon in order to have a much needed and sure to be volatile private conversation with Phil. He really didn't want Jonny subjected to the scene he was going to generate, and he didn't want his son's presence to stifle what he needed to get across to Corvin. Therefore, the only option was the new agent, and Benton didn't trust him.

Given Jonny's anxiety about being separated from his father following his mother's death, added to the recent history of the last two agents, Jonny had pitched an impressive tantrum. Benton hadn't had the heart to discipline his son; he understood his reaction completely, and didn't blame him one bit.

Agent Bannon had seemed unperturbed and just said calmly to Benton as he took the flailing child from him, "Leave him to me. We'll be fine." It was probably the hardest thing Benton had done in his life, handing his upset child over to a complete stranger. But he did it, with trepidation.

After a very heated and very loud discussion with Corvin, Benton agreed to give Bannon a chance, against his better judgment. However, the previous scene, and Agent Bannon's calmness in the face of Jonny's hysterical behavior, had swayed Benton. He informed Corvin that this was it. If Bannon didn't work out, this was over . . . No more agents.

Both men knew that this wasn't the end, that there WOULD be an agent at Palm Key, but Corvin was under no illusions as to just how stubborn Benton could be. He was also getting a picture of how deep the passion of emotion ran in this man. He felt like he'd just opened Pandora's box, and wasn't sure if he could shut the lid on it again.

After the confrontation, leaving Corvin to draw a long sigh of relief that this particular scene was over, and he was relatively unscathed, Benton went anxiously in search of his son, whom he had left with a complete stranger. He found them, unexpectedly, in his own bedroom. Jonny was lying on his stomach, sound asleep on Benton's big bed with a comforter thrown over him. Agent Bannon was sitting in an armchair with in reach of the bed, reading quietly aloud from C.S. Lewis' 'The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe".

Benton just looked in amazement at his peacefully sleeping son. "How on earth did you ever get him down for a nap?" Jonny had always been notoriously difficult about naps, and truly impossible after Rachel's death.

"I told him that he couldn't see you until you were finished talking to Mr. Corvin, but that we could wait where ever he wanted to and he chose your room. He just crawled up on your bed and cried. I found this book in his room---it looked like a favorite. So I just started to read, and he gradually calmed down and finally fell asleep. He was a pretty tired boy. I hope I didn't overstep any boundaries," Agent Bannon answered with a smile as he quietly shut the book.

Benton just looked again at his sleeping son, carefully covered with the comforter, and answer absently, "No, you didn't overstep anything." He shook his head in amazement. "Jonny hasn't slept more than a couple of hours at a time since his mother died . . . And that book was her favorite."

And Race had continued to amaze him, Benton thought gratefully, remembered that first week. He had asked permission to give Jonny his lessons in a corner of Benton's lab, since Jonny had a problem having his father out of sight. That worked well for all concerned, then gradually they were doing lessons just outside the big windows of the lab, then down on the beach, still within sight. Finally, they were out at the various islands in the area.

Race also took to letting Jonny use the portable communicator he carried in case of emergencies to let him talk to Benton when he needed too. He also made sure that if Benton was working at Jonny's bedtime, he would buzz him in the lab to remind him to take a break and come put Jonny to bed.

He also was wonderful with Jonny. He handled the energetic little boy with amazing skill. Jonny was very difficult at first. Not only for the trauma of his mother's death, and the two previous agents, but also from the more mundane problem of lack of sleep. He'd sleep very little at night, between nightmares, bedwetting incidents, and having to reassure himself that Benton was home, yet trying to get him down for naps in the afternoon was just about undoable. Somehow Race managed it, with little effort. Jonny was almost always asleep in the early afternoon for a least an hour, sometimes as much as three, and seemingly with very little fuss. Benton still didn't know how he did it, but Jonny's temper was dramatically improved, making life easier on all concerned.

Yep, Bandit was just the latest in a long line of good ideas. Race had also become a very good friend to both of the Quests', much to Benton's surprise. He seldom got close to anybody. I-1 had made sure he was too busy for that. But while Jonny slept in the afternoons, Race made a habit of joining him in the lab. He would assist as needed until Jonny would sleepily join them. As Benton got to know Race, he found that they had a surprising amount in common. Race was also far smarter than he let on. Benton found his quick mind to be an asset in his work. Jonny was certainly better adjusted. His lack of panic at Benton's unexpected absence due to the storm last night told the true tale.

"Come on, Dad! Come on, Race! You're too slow!" His son's voice encouraged them on to the house.

Benton smiled at his son. Sometimes things did work out well in spite of what he thought. Better not let too many people know that though---his reputation for being brilliant could be tarnished beyond repair.