Disclaimer: I do not own One Life to Live nor the characters in it. The only thing that are mine are this storyline and the young ones :-)

Author Note: The timing of this is before Kirk Harmon is unjustly murdered.

If you haven't been keeping up, I am sorry for giving that away. If you have, don't worry this will catch up but remember it WILL become AU soon enough.

Chapter One

John McBain was tired and angry. Frowning hard into his scotch John pathetically realized that all he had been lately was tired and angry. However, that was just too damn much emotional thinking for him at the moment. Hell it was too damn emotional thinking for him ever, he wasn't sure what had brought it on. He knew he could pinpoint it to around the time of his car accident and Natalie lying to him and relying more on Vincent Jones than she did on his counsel. It could have been before that but that would have meant he had been wrong, that he had been missing signs. That was the last thing that he wanted to admit or ever realize. That his dreams of a Natalie and a little boy that was just like him but with her inquisitiveness and a little girl that was just like her but with his stalwartness, his dreams of peace and a family would never, ever happen. He didn't want to realize that the fact that those dreams could never come true were his fault. No. Nope. Better to blame it on Natalie, Vincent, hell even Truman. Wouldn't surprise him that the ass was ruining his life beyond the grave and John wasn't even superstitious. The whole relying on things he didn't see didn't fly with him; he didn't buy it. He liked cold, hard facts. Those things never betrayed you. Like the situation with Marty and ... Laurence (he really didn't like thinking their names together). There were cold hard facts that Miles was involved with Truman's murder and Manning's disappearance. And he was getting closer and closer to the proof second by second, even if the dots didn't seem to connect properly.

Grabbing his glass he downed it in one gulp, the ice clinking against his teeth, he savored the coolness of the burn. The burn, the facts, they kept him from thinking about his emotions. Natalie leaving, Marty being there, Cole not trusting him enough to tell him the truth, the fact that he was tired and angry and cold, and people he cared about were hurting because of some sadistic rascist arsonist. And he can't help but share Bo's feeling that they got the wrong guy, nevertheless he doesn't think about it. That case is too emotional for him. This case isn't. Sure he likes Marty but he doesn't LIKE like her (John orders another glass, he was starting to sound like a twelve year old in his own mind) and so what if Cole doesn't trust him. This isn't what it is about. It's about cold hard facts. About righting his wrong and making sure his emotions do not get in the way and another innocent doesn't get sent to jail. Though, John thinks as he looks into his drink again and frowning even harder than before, Vicker's is by far an innocent and if the man kept getting in his way he'd lock him in a cell for ... for .. oh, for something.

John places the glass down and steps away from the bar after paying the bartender. If he can't think of how he'd like to remove the pain that is David Vickers from his life then maybe he had had enough to drink. After all he was John McBain. Threats and being imposing came naturally to him. They were far less meddlesome than being tired and angry.

Sighing he rubbed his hands over his face and walked out. He had things to do, clues to go over, Laurence to find, and maybe, just maybe he could get a full night of sleep.

"Yeah, Harmon says that his beloved daddy won't do a thing that'll incriminate him." The man snorts as he walks along the pines. "Yeah that's what I said. He's delusional. I say we pay pops a visit and handl-" The man not watching where he is going bumps into a young boy. "Hey, watch where you're going punk!" He hisses but he gives the boy an assessing look. He's tall, and looks to be about 11 or so with smiling dark eyes. Makes him think of Tate the first time he joined their ranks. Innocent, good-looking and with an air that could have grannies giving away their pension just for a sweet smile, but he sees more just like he did with Tate. Even in the night he can see the pain in the boys dark eyes, pain that makes it easier to welcome people into the fold.

"Sorry, sir." The boy said with a rather friendly smile. "Next time I will." He gave him a slight nod before skipping off.

"Hey, wait!" He wants to talk to the boy, something about the kid said he would be worth knowing. Maybe worthy for their cause. But the boy is already gone. Shaking his head the man bends down to pick up his cellular phone, it had fallen when he and the boy had bumped into each other and luckily it wasn't broken. Standing up and making to place his phone in his shirt pocket, the same place that he put his wallet, he realized that his wallet was gone. "Why the fucking punk!"

The man growls and starts to a run. He doesn't know whether to laugh or be pissed. Sticky fingers, that could be useful, however, that also meant that the kid was poor. Probably some dirt scum, possibly interracial too and that would be the last thing they needed. Best find the kid and find out.

If he was worthy, he'd offer him a place to stay and some food. If not ...

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Rubbing his hand through his face John is secretly glad that he had decided to walk towards the bar. He didn't think he would be able to drive at the moment and he wouldn't have wanted to leave it there overnight. Deciding against calling a cab he decided to take a rare moment and enjoy the warm weather, perhaps it would help him to clear his mind.

"Darn it!" He heard a young voice yell before speeding right by him.

Raising a curious brow he watched the kid go. He hesitated only for a moment before deciding that while it was none of his damn business and he was tired as heck, the kid seemed to have been running from something or someone. It was his responsibility to make sure the kid wasn't in danger.

Growling low in the back of his throat John turned to follow the kid only to feel that his foot had stepped on something. A wallet?

Bending down John picked it up; as he stood up he turned when he heard the sound of feet. A man was approaching him and he didn't look very happy.

"This yours?" John asked, his curious brow back up.

"Yeah, thanks." The man said. Though he didn't sound particularly happy.

"Right." John answered before walking away. He had done his good deed for the day, now it was time to try and sleep.

The man watched as the cop left. Detective John McBain. Infamous for getting his guy and always being on top of a case. The man was glad that John hadn't questioned him and in turn he was happy that he remembered seeing the cop's face. It would have been strange asking him in which direction the boy had gone since he had gotten his wallet back and Tate had told him that McBain was easily suspicious.

Shame though, the man thought as he looked around realizing there was no way he would catch up with the kid now, something about that kid ... Something about that boy made him think that the kid would be important to keep an eye on.

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"Let you out of my eye sight for five seconds!" Katrina yelled at her brother more at of fear than anger. "And you manage to get yourself chased across the entire park!" J

oseph Daniel rolled his eyes at his sisters dramatics, "It wasn't the entire park." He countered with a teasing smile. The look she sent him told him that she didn't find the situation even the tiniest bit humorous. Shame that, cause he found it funny. Especially since he hadn't gotten caught. "Relax, sis." JD said with a roll of his eyes when her glare didn't let up. "I managed to get a good eighty dollars. Sixty-seven from the first guy and thirty-three something from the second guy. Enough for a HUGE supper and some breakfast tomorrow. AAAAAND! And, we can save the rest of our money for a bed and a cot. Come on, you know you don't wanna sleep on the floor." His tone needled. "And you are really hungry."

"I'm really hungwy." Delilah muttered.

"You see!" JD grinned. "I did good. And I didn't get caught."

"But they saw your face." His sister protested, not wanting to give up her worry.

"No they didn't. It was too dark. Sis, stop worrying about it. I didn't get caught let that be enough. Come on. I for one am darned hungry."

Katrina gave her brother one last stern look before sighing. "Fine. Just be more careful next time."

"I will." He quickly promised, paying more attention to his grumbling stomach than to her warning. "So where to?"

"There's a diner, in Angel Square. I saw it on the phone book. We'll go there and go to a motel."

JD nodded. He didn't really care where the motel was as long as he got to go to bed with a full stomach for once and not sleep on floor.