Author's Notes: Not as long of a wait this time, though I wanted to have this out a few days ago. Things just didn't work out that way. I should be able to get out one more chapter before I visit California at the beginning of May. I plan to take my laptop. . .it's doubtful that I'll get a chance to write, but I'll do my best.

In the hot men department: for anyone who hasn't. . .GO SEE 300! Okay, it does have David Wenham and Gerard Butler in hardly more than a loincloth and a cloak, but quite apart from that. . .you might want to bring some Kleenex. LOTR, 300 and Gettysburg are the only movies which have made me cry as an adult. Since I doubt if I'll have another chapter ready in time, I'll just take a moment to be a truly embarrassing fangirl, and wish Sean Bean a happy birthday in advance. I hope he won't be reading this, but Sean, happy birthday, and thank you for all the enjoyment you've provided over the years.

The exchange between Boromir and Gavin was inspired by a true event in my family. My paternal grandmother's grandparents came from Sweden in the late nineteenth century, and spoke very little to no English. To repeat the entire story would take too long, but my great-great grandmother learned some words that weren't exactly used in polite society. As ever, thank you for the reviews, and by all means, if you notice a typo, PLEASE tell me! Trust me, I don't bite. I'm also open to ideas and suggestions. I can't promise I'll use it, but I will definitely take things under consideration. With that out of the way. . .on with the latest developments!

Chapter Two

Homeward Bound

It was decided that Kristin would ride back to Campbell with Elena and Nico. The suggestion was made by Gavin, but it was quickly seconded by Elena. In the first place, as much as she loved Nico, she really preferred to have human companionship. In the second place, Kristin would have her parents to herself this evening. And in the third place, Megan had enough to deal with right now, between her mother and Gavin. Elena knew Elly Trask well enough to realize the coroner would rake her ex-boyfriend over the coals for opening his big mouth. She just hoped she could be there to see it.

And though Kristin was on the point of whining a few times while they were inside the airport, there was no mistaking the worry in her voice as they followed the van out of the parking garage. She asked softly, "Do you think they'll be okay? I mean, I know Mom's kinda upset that Meg didn't tell her about Bethany. . .and Meg's upset at Gavin because he did tell Mom and Dad. She's driving, so. . ." The girl's voice trailed off and she looked over at Elena.

"Your dad will keep your mom in check," the cop answered, "especially since Meg is driving. The last thing he wants is an accident on the way home because your mom wouldn't leave Meg alone about the Lawson case." A glance to her right told her that Kristin was thinking that one over. Elena went on, "Besides, your father will have back-up from Michael. I saw the way your mother was looking at him. She'll want to mother him, mark my words."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," the girl mused. Elena wondered if her companion saw the expressions of her menfolk when they saw Michael. Elena and Megan certainly did. They talked about it while they were paying for their respective Express tickets. Megan noticed because she happened to be looking at the men in question when they first saw Michael. Actually, as Megan put it, "I saw Dad's face when he noticed Michael, and for some reason, I looked at Gavin. I dunno, I guess I thought it was contagious or something. But yeah, I saw it. It was like they knew him, or something."

They stood at the kiosk, Kristin steering Michael's wheelchair. Fortunately for him (and her), she wasn't trying to race anyone. Not that she would. Kristin knew better than that. Elena observed quietly, "Yeah, and I saw the look on Gavin's face after they came out of the restroom." Her partner frowned, and Elena had explained, "He looked sick, Meg. Something is going on with that cousin of yours. I heard your dad ask if he hurt himself while he was helping Michael. Gavin said no, he just saw Michael's wounds."

Meg bit her lower lip thoughtfully, then said softly, "One thing I know about Gavin. He can keep his mouth shut when he wants. And I have a gut feeling that he'll want to keep his mouth shut about whatever's bothering him." Yeah, Elena would second that! Megan looked at her then, straight on, and said, "I think what bothers me, more than anything else, is the fact that. . .that look we saw on Dad and Gavin's faces, when they looked at Michael? I saw that look on Ronan's face a few times."

Now that Meg mentioned it. . .yeah. Yeah, Elena watched Ronan with Michael many times. She asked softly, "You think they'll want to stick close to him, the way Ronan did?" Maybe they were making a mountain out of a molehill, and maybe they were being overly sensitive, but something didn't track. Michael didn't speak a word of English, he didn't remember anything about his past, and every thing seemed very new to him. Almost. . .almost as if he didn't belong in the modern world.

Elena knew Megan's family well enough to know that Francis Rafferty had never been to Europe, which was where Elena believed Michael was from. Gavin had been all over the world, but. . .it didn't add up for her. Kristin said, interrupting her train of thought, "Is that why you wanted me to ride with you?" Huh? Elena quickly glanced at her companion out of the corner of her eye, and Kristin elaborated, "Just in case Mom decided to lecture Meg about not telling her and Dad while they were on vacation?"

"That was a part of it, yeah. It's gonna be crowded, in the first place, and Meg needs to focus on her driving. Besides, I really needed human companionship. Nico's a doll, but kinda lacking in the conversation department." Kristin giggled at that. Elena continued, a little more seriously, "Honestly, I probably should have asked Gavin to ride with me, since Michael is more comfortable with you. He's known you the longest, and he trusts you. But. . .Gavin would be miserable with his long legs in the passenger side, and there's no way I'm gonna let him drive my baby."

Kristin snickered, though Elena meant every word she said. Megan referred to such comments from Elena as being 'half in fun and full in earnest.' She apparently picked it up from her paternal grandfather, who emigrated from Ireland to Canada as a young boy. As much as Elena groused about it, her partner had it about right. Elena teased Gavin about driving her car, but she still wouldn't do it. About a year earlier, her younger brother Felipe borrowed her car while his was in the garage for the week, while she rode with Megan. At first, everything seemed to be fine with her baby. Up until she started having trouble with her steering wheel shaking, and a strange whining noise emerged from the engine. Felipe had apparently become a little overly enthusiastic while parking one day at work, and ran over the concrete blocks used to indicate parking spaces. It tore a hole in a transmission hose.

So now, Elena was extremely hesitant about letting anyone drive her car. While she knew Gavin, she never rode with him. Ergo, there was no way she would let him drive her baby. Elena told her companion, changing the subject, "I don't know about you, but I have all of my Christmas shopping." She was favored with a pout, and Elena shrugged, adding, "Hey, I didn't spend all my time at the hospital, you know. After Meg and I made the decision to bring Michael to Campbell with us, we also decided that we should finish our shopping before he was released from the hospital. Think about it, Kristy. . . the poor guy was just released from the hospital. He speaks no English. Do you really want to subject him to the insanity of the malls at this time of the year?"

"Ew," Kristin said plainly, and Elena laughed. The girl said, "Okay, so you're gonna leave me to face the crazies, all by myself?" Elena drew to a stop at an amber light, looked at Kristin. . .and nodded with an evil grin. Kristin sighed, "I was afraid you'd say that. All right, since you're abandoning me, you can at least help me figure out what to get Meg for Christmas. Sometimes I think you know her better than I do." Half in full, full in earnest, Elena thought, but nodded. As it happened, she did have a few ideas. . .

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In the van driven by Megan Rafferty, the atmosphere was a weird mixture of a joyful family reunion and a tense confrontation. Especially for her cousin Gavin, who divided his attention between the back of Megan's head and staring out the window, when he was trying not to stare at the final passenger in the van. Between Meg's tension, his own mixed emotions and. . .him, Gavin was almost wishing he had remained in Miami. Okay, maybe telling Ailsa wasn't the smartest idea he ever had. But at the time, he thought he was doing the right thing, and didn't that count for something? Apparently not where Meg was concerned. The kid was weird that way. Always had been. But he supposed that was part of the reason he was so protective of her. Because she was a bit weird, and that made her vulnerable.

He knew why she was so upset with him. It wasn't that he told her mother about Bethany Lawson's murder, so much. . .that played into it, especially since they were on vacation. But the real reason? To Meg, his action said that he didn't trust her. Which was completely untrue. Gavin trusted her, implicitly. He knew she would have eventually told her parents about the murder. . .after they landed in Raleigh and before they reached Campbell. She would have wanted to soften the blow, if there could be such a thing.

The reason he made the announcement was so she wouldn't have to. Gavin knew Meg, about as well as he knew himself (and better than he knew his own son). He was in the airport, getting ready to fly down to Miami, when Damaris Franklin called him on his cell. She wanted to know if he talked to Megan and if she was all right. Gavin was a little confused. . .why wouldn't she be okay? That was how he learned about Bethany Lawson. Damaris also told him that Megan and Elena were the detectives who not only found the girl's body, but also apprehended the murderer. Damaris didn't bother with alleged, not when the son of a bitch confessed.

While he could certainly understand how Meg would be sickened by the murder of a child (and anyone who was the same age as his son qualified as a child), Gavin couldn't figure out why this particular murder would upset her so badly. He really wasn't familiar with Bethany. He knew that she was about eighteen or nineteen, around Kristin's age, but beyond that? He drew a blank when he heard her name. Damaris reminded him that not only were Bethany and Kristin of an age, but they looked remarkably similar.

At that point, everything made sense to Gavin. Megan was as protective of Kristin as Gavin was of both girls. Even though her baby sister was more or less safe, finding Bethany would have done a number on Meg. He supposed he should have been just as concerned about Elena. . .things like that did a number on her as well. The difference was. . .well, there were a few differences. The main reason was, Elena had her entire family right there in Campbell. Megan's support system was scattered to the four corners of the world. All right, that was an exaggeration.

But it didn't take away from the truth. . .Meg needed her parents. She needed them to know about something so horrible, so they could support her. Yes, once she reached Raleigh, she would have Kristin, but in truth, Gavin wasn't sure if she was ready to be the older sister. He watched those two grow up. And even after he joined the Corps and got married, he could still see how the elder sister looked after the younger. In some ways, Meg was Mommy Two for Kristin. Was Kristin ready, was she strong enough, to give her more vulnerable older sister the support she needed?

That was why he called Ailsa. However, Meg wasn't ready to listen to him, not yet. He wouldn't go so far as to accuse her of hiding behind Michael (the warrior angel, was it? Well, he could think of worse things to call him. . .and had, on occasion). But it didn't take a great deal of intelligence (or observation skills) to notice the way she fussed over him. She fussed that way over Gavin, over Elena, over Kristin, over Damaris. It was her way of protecting herself and he couldn't say she was wrong to do it. Still. He really wished she would relax a little. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles were turning bone white. Literally. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, just as soon as they were all inside the van (and Gavin had to ask her where she got the van. Eventually). From his position, he saw the tail of her hair, the nape of her neck, the crystalline dolphin earrings which he bought for her, to mark her twenty-first birthday. And he saw the tension in the back of her neck and across her shoulders.

He wasn't the only one watching her. So was B. . .Michael. When he first saw the blond man, sitting in the wheelchair at the airport, he couldn't believe his eyes. How could it be the same man? Boromir died eons ago. But. . .the reincarnations of those who lived in Middle-earth during the second War of the Ring found each other again over the millennia. All except one. All except Boromir. Then Megan began to tell them how Michael was found. . .unconscious in a Raleigh alley, with three arrow wounds in his torso. She told them how he was dressed, and Gavin had to accept the truth of what he was hearing. He just didn't know what to do about it. Yet.

Francis said suddenly, distracting Gavin from his troublesome thoughts, "You know, this is rather unexpected. I would have never believed I'd see you driving a van, Megan." Meg laughed and cast her father an affectionate glance. He was seated to her right, in the front passenger seat, and continued, "I'm serious, princess! I know you hate large vehicles! You're driving this as much for Michael's sake as for ours. I guess what I want to know is where you got it. . . did you rent it, or borrow it?"

"It was loaned to me, by Michael's doctor and Kristin's mentor, Dr. Ronan Daly. You'd like him, Dad. He's around your age, originally from Ireland. He took Michael under his wing. Not just being his doctor, but going above and beyond. Ronan's the one who started teaching Michael English. We took that up as well. . .in fact, we taught Michael a few words on the drive to the airport. He was getting carsick, poor dear man," Megan replied and Gavin suppressed a smile, hearing their grandfather in those last words. Gandy never said that, but their grandmother was another story. She often referred to Gandy as 'the poor dear man,' usually after she got the better of him.

"That reminds me," Francis observed, "I meant to ask you. How, exactly, did you convince the hospital to release him into your care? And how did you pay for his care? I doubt if he's got health insurance, and given how he was found. . ." Ah. Good question. While Megan could have put B. . .Michael. . .on her insurance, it would have been complicated, to say the least. Gavin shook his head a little. It would take him time to get used to calling the blond man 'Michael.'

Megan gave a brief laugh, replying, "Ronan was a living, breathing guardian angel. He loaned us the van, convinced the hospital that we were Michael's best bet. . .and he paid for Michael's medical care. I asked him a few times why, if he'd never met him before. It. . .he always got this sad look in his eyes, and when I asked one time, he told me that Michael reminded him a lot of a friend he lost a long time ago. Apparently, this friend was really good to him after Ronan lost a member of his family, and it ate at Ronan that he couldn't return the favor. So, I guess he's trying to atone with Michael."

Gavin stiffened a little. Lost a member of his family? Was it possible that one of the Nine Walkers. . .or rather, his reincarnation. . .was here in North Carolina? Actually, he supposed it would be eight in this case. Either way, he needed to know more about this Ronan Daly. That, however, would wait until he reached Campbell. His own family would need him, especially now. Besides, he had some old Marine comrades in Raleigh and he was sure some of them would have information about this man. He wanted to believe that the doctor who took both Kristin and. . .Michael under his wing was the reincarnation of an old friend. But he needed far more information before he arranged an encounter with the man in question. Christmas was a short time away, and he knew that the rest of the Rafferty clan would be arriving from Virginia and Canada.

Ailsa's voice cut into his reverie, asking smoothly, "And that reminds me, darling. Speaking of family. . .when exactly did you plan to tell us about Bethany Lawson's murder? I would have liked to have known, preferably from you, before we reached Campbell." Megan sighed, shooting Gavin a murderous glare in the rearview mirror. He cringed, offering her an apologetic smile. He would never apologize for looking out for her. . .but he would apologize for the way he had gone about it.

Unexpectedly, Francis said, "Leave the girl alone, Ailsa, especially while she's driving. We were on vacation, and there was no need for us to know. She's fine, Kristy is fine, and the miserable son of a bitch who tortured and murdered Bethany is behind bars. Our daughter did her job, so if that piece of dirt goes free, it won't be because of a technicality. And that's good enough for me."

Gavin glanced at the older woman out of the corner of his eye. Her mouth was opening and closing. As Kristin would have said Ailsa was doing her stranded fish impression. Then, to make things absolutely perfect, B. . .Michael reached over, put his fingers under her chin, and gently closed her mouth. He said nothing during the conversation, but Gavin noticed the way he was looking at Megan. The newcomer was still wobbly, and yet, he was already becoming protective of the petite brunette. Then again, that shouldn't come as a surprise. The man he had known, all those ages ago, had a protective nature. . . and he would be even more protective of a young woman who had looked after him.

At last, Ailsa said plaintively, "But we could have helped her! She shouldn't have been alone!" Gavin smiled to himself. Seemed like they were on the same page, after all. She looked at the back of her daughter's head, and, like Gavin, saw the tension in the back of her neck. It was a reasonable assumption that she also saw just how white Megan's knuckles were as her hands gripped the steering wheel.

Meg answered softly, "I wasn't alone, Mama. Elena was with me when we found her, and when she wasn't there, Nico was. I've never been alone." Not even when I wanted to be. Gavin wondered if anyone else heard the unspoken words. After a moment, she continued, "Anyhow, I'm not the important one right now. Michael is. He needs all of us. And we really need to decide what we'll do about lunch." Gavin looked over at the blond man, who was regarding them all with curiosity and frustration, and for the first time, something else occurred to him. He wasn't alone anymore. Boromir was here, and he would help Gavin look after Megan and Kristin. The why of it could wait until later. For now, that was most important. Boromir never apologized for looking after those whom he loved most, and nor would Gavin.

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Across the country, a man sat in front of his computer, reading over his email for the tenth time. He ran his fingers through his graying dark hair, not sure if he should feel frightened or exhilarated or. . .what. Of all the things that happened since he awoke, this had the potential to be the most devastating. He needed to hear the words, as well as read them, so he began reading aloud, Gabriel, please forgive me for not telling you of this sooner. I have my reasons, but they are difficult to explain at the moment. But I am telling you because out of the entire mailing list, you are the only one I trust with this information. Odd, isn't it, considering I was present at your death? But it is true. I know you have tried to make amends for the wrongdoing of your previous incarnation. What I am about to tell you may make that easier.

I have found Boromir of Gondor. . .or perhaps, I should say, he found me. When I say that Boromir has been found, I don't mean his reincarnation, but the young rascal himself. I do hope you are sitting down, Gabriel. About two weeks ago, he was found in an alley not far from the hospital where I work, still dressed in the same attire he wore when last I saw him. And this is where the tale becomes particularly fantastic. . .the woman, the goddess, who brought him forth in time approached me. She is a goddess or a demi-goddess, perhaps even one of the Valar or the Maiar. I do not know. She calls herself 'Pelagia,' and has claimed Boromir as one of her Champions, along with a young pre-med student who volunteers at the hospital, that student's elder sister, and the sister's partner. The two older women are both police officers.

Here again, Gabriel Wainwright had to stop reading. While he had many memories of being Grima Wormtongue, most of those focused around the last few weeks of his life, including Theoden King's offer of forgiveness. After everything he had done, to Rohan and to Eowyn, his king was willing to forgive him. Or, at the very least, give him the option of atoning for what he had done. On the other hand, he remembered very little about Boromir of Gondor, or about the Steward's heir while he was in Rohan. It was for that reason that he clicked on the attachment which accompanied the email. The download took a matter of seconds, then he clicked on 'open.' The pale face of an exhausted young man greeted him, but it was a face known to him, even with his limited memories. Gabriel murmured, "Boromir."

He minimized the picture, then continued reading the email, Boromir was released from the hospital today, and he has accompanied the girls to their home, to his new home, a small town called Campbell. It's about forty-five minutes south of Raleigh. It will be a good place for him. He remembers very little, if anything, of his earlier life, and that is thanks to Pelagia. She feared his memories would cripple his ability to start a new life. In addition to that, of course, he speaks no English. I began to remedy that while he was in my care, and the girls have taken up that task as well.

Girls. I keep calling them 'girls,' but that only really applies to Kristin, the young pre-med volunteer I mentioned to you. She's no more than twenty or twenty-one, and the youngest of the group. The other two, Megan and Elena, are both in their early thirties. Megan is Kristin's older sister. . .I believe Kristin told me that she was thirty-two, and Elena is Megan's partner. She's a few months younger than Megan. They're both still very young, especially to an old man like me, but at the same time, they aren't girls. They've seen entirely too much to qualify as children. They. . .one of the reasons they agreed to come to Raleigh at Kristin's request is because of one of the things they saw. I can't tell you anything more, because that's not my story to tell.

Gabriel smiled at that a little. Typical of his friend. . .and yes, much to his surprise, they were friends. It took Ronan some time to forgive Grima's wrongdoings (treason, harassing the Lady Eowyn, and spitting on Aragorn), but now, they were friends. Ronan continued, In any event, I do recall our conversation in which you told me about meeting the Elf. Pelagia told me that he will be coming soon, to find Boromir. When he does, I have no doubt that you'll be one of the first people he'll contact. That's the other reason I've told you about this. . .knowing that the Elf will contact you and knowing that you will believe me.

So here's what you (and the Elf) need to know. Boromir is in Campbell, North Carolina. He is in the care of Megan Rafferty and Elena Gutierrez, detectives with the Campbell Police Department. For the moment, he will be staying with Megan, since she has more room in her apartment. To say nothing of an elevator in the apartment building, something that Boromir will need while he's using his wheelchair. Tell the Elf. Tell the Elf about the girls, and tell him that Boromir is safe. Oh. . .and tell him that I found Boromir first. That should rankle, nearly as much as the fact that I'm now taller than the pointy-eared menace.

Gabriel bit back a snort. He should have seen that one coming, and maybe he did. Ronan told him, more than once, about the friendly competition between Gimli and Legolas, and the Elf had a few stories to share of his own. He heard. . .and read. . .so many stories about the friendship between the Elf and the Dwarf, how it grew from hostility to tolerance to camaraderie, and that final battle in front of the Black Gates of Mordor. Gimli mock-grumbled that he never thought he would die side by side with an Elf. With a smile, Legolas asked, "What about side by side with a friend?" Gimli's eyes softened as he replied, "Aye. Aye, I can do that."

I can do that. Gabriel returned his attention to the missive from Ronan, which concluded, I don't have much else to tell you. After Boromir has a chance to settle into his new life, I'll be making routine trips to Campbell to see him. Eventually, he'll get his memory back. When he does, I want to reassure him that we've all missed him greatly through the ages. I don't know why I was blessed with first contact, so to speak. I just know that I'll look after him as best I can. There is one other thing you can do for me, Gabriel. Tell Legolas to keep his distance at first. Watch over him, but don't make contact right away. He's frightened and fragile. . .and very protective of his new friends. Take care of yourself, and I'll email you again when I have news. RD

Gabriel sighed and sat back in his computer chair, staring at the email. Well, that was certainly unexpected. Still, Ronan had it about right. A man who barely spoke English and remembered almost nothing about his life. . .if Legolas made himself known to Boromir immediately, it would likely cause more problems than it might solve. The only question remaining for him was when to tell Legolas. Did he send an email to the Elven prince now? Or wait until Legolas or Haldir contacted him?

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It took them but a few moments to leave the city behind. Mikal was pleased about that. The city was too bright, too loud, too much. But before too much time passed, he saw more greenery and more fields. This was a beautiful area, and the crops were planted in perfectly straight rows. He had no idea what sorts of crops were planted. . .it was somewhat chilly outside, even with the quilt tucked around his legs. Unlike many other things he brought with him, this was not a gift from Ronan, but one of the healers who assisted his new friend. If Mikal recalled correctly, her name was 'Merinda.' She gave him the quilt (and Meg told him what it was called). . .the dark guardian, Awbree, gave him the new clothes, Ronan gave him his own ceedee player and several ceedees. In truth, he felt somewhat overwhelmed by the attention.

Leaving with Meg, Kristin, and 'Layna was something of a relief. They fussed over him, a little, but with the strangeness of traveling within this horseless cart, Mikal realized he didn't mind it as much. After reaching their destination, where they located Meg and Kristin's family, Mikal relaxed further. He was no longer the center of attention, and it became far easier for Mikal to relax. At least, that was the case in the beginning. As he saw more green and less of the city, tension inside the horseless cart became far worse.

He didn't have to understand a word of this new language to know that he was in the middle of a confrontation. . .albeit a very strange one. The atmosphere was at first jovial, as Meg became reacquainted with her parents and her cousin. As they departed, Meg's father headed into a room very similar to the one visited by the girls upon their arrival. Meg's cousin (Mikal believed his name was Gavin) followed with Mikal, and it was then that he discovered the room was a privy. More than one, in fact. Much to Mikal's relief, Gavin made no fuss or comment when he wheeled Mikal into one such privy.

Instead, like Ronan, he simply stood by and supported Mikal. While he was gaining strength every day, Mikal knew it would be some time before he could move about freely. He could walk short distances (such as to the privy), but his legs still trembled if he stood upright for more than a few moments. For that reason, he appreciated Ronan and Gavin's support, as well as their silence. By now, he was becoming accustomed to the waste disposal, and to the water running over his hands after he concluded his business. He became accustomed to the ceedee player, and to the teevee. On the other hand, he wasn't certain if he would ever become accustomed to this horseless cart.

He supposed that was one reason he was paying such close attention to the tension between Meg and her mother. It distracted him from the unnatural speed of the horseless cart, to say nothing of his nausea. Mikal didn't know what caused the tension between the mother and daughter, but he recognized the signs, not only in the mother's face, but in the daughter's behavior, the way she carried herself. Her hands were tight around the wheel she clutched, the one that allowed her to steer the horseless cart (Mikal was rather proud of himself for noticing that), and the muscles in the back of her neck were tight. He could understand nothing of what was said, but he could recognize a scolding when he heard one.

He also recognized a command to stand down, as Meg's sire spoke sharply. There was a brief silence, as Meg relaxed, then her mother responded, her tone bordering on plaintive. There was a sigh from Meg as she said something in a soft voice. Her mother's expression went from chiding to compassionate. While he was in the care of Ronan, Mikal often noticed Meg's sadness, and occasionally, she would enter his room with red-rimmed eyes, as if she had been weeping. Something happened recently, to both Meg and 'Layna. He wished he could understand English better. Mikal truly hated not knowing what was happening. It seemed to him that his ignorance might prove to be dangerous. If not for him, then for his new companions. He was barely able to feed himself, barely able to stand at the moment, but Mikal still wished to protect his new friends. They took care of him, it was only right that he do the same.

Gavin said unexpectedly, drawing Mikal's attention away from the mother and daughter, "Van." What? Confused, Mikal looked at his companion, who repeated, "Van." And this time, he made a sweeping gesture with his hand. Did he mean. . .was that what this horseless cart was actually called? Van. As Gavin stared at him expectantly, Mikal realized that Meg's cousin wanted him to repeat the word.

Which he did, saying, "Van. Meg. Father. Mother. Sister." Gavin smiled outright and nodded. Mikal decided to try something new, and repeated something he heard 'Layna say. Hoping that he got the pronunciation correct (and that it wasn't something a lady wasn't meant to hear, though he and Gavin were speaking softly), Mikal said, "Bah-buss-ter?" Gavin mouthed the word in some confusion, then his eyes grew comically wide. A moment later, the van was filled with his laughter. Meg looked up from her task, frowning ever so slightly, and Gavin said something, too quickly for Mikal to even pick out a word or two. However, it seemed to be an explanation enough for Meg, for she smiled back at Mikal, then returned her attention to steering the hor. . .the van.

Gavin turned his attention from their driver. His voice dropped and his expression took on a serious mien. In that language spoken by Ronan before they parted ways, the language Mikal understood but could not name, Gavin said, "Be careful of where you say that, my friend. It is not a phrase to use easily. It is not a bad word, as such, but it is to be used with care." Mikal nodded soberly. He still wished that he knew what it meant, so he knew the why of it. Gavin paused, then added, "As to the meaning. . .it is usually meant for a woman." His hand went protectively between his legs as he spoke. Oh. It was that sort of phrase!

Mikal cringed and Gavin nodded. Meg spoke, drawing Gavin's attention back to herself, and they conversed for several moments in English. Meg's mother turned to Mikal, smiling at him brightly. She took his hand, then pressed her free hand to her chest, saying, "Aylsa." That would be her name. . .and quite lovely it was, too. Many of the names in this time were fetching, even if he did find them passing odd. It occurred to him that perhaps they would find his real name, whatever it was, just as odd.

He squeezed her hand and repeated, "Aylsa. Mother. . .Meg." Aylsa's smile grew all the brighter and she nodded, returning the squeeze. Mikal nodded out at the passing scenery, naming, "Tree. Van. Sign. Skyscraper." At that precise moment, they were passing the strangest thing Mikal had seen yet (and his strangest things kept being replaced by even stranger things). It was long, and at first, he thought it was a structure. . .until he realized that it was moving. Mikal indicated the long, gray line, and asked, "Van?" Aylsa looked out, then shook her head with a smile.

"Trayn," she replied. Trayn? Mikal frowned. Aylsa fumbled around for something, then gave a little cry of triumph. She waved yet another strange device at Mikal. He couldn't help pulling away a little, though he knew not how it would harm him. That was hardly the point. However, it didn't stay away from him for long. Aylsa pressed them against his eyes. They were a form of spectacles? It took him a moment to adjust to the strange sensation. . .and then another few moments to focus his eyes properly. But when he did, it was worth it. He had been looking in the direction of the trayn, and this strange, spectacle-like object allowed him to see into the trayn. And inside the trayn, he saw people. Ahhh. . .so a trayn carried people, just as a van did!

Mikal lost track of time as Aylsa taught him more words in English. They started with the features of the face, then moved onto other body parts. Not all words were easy for him to say, but Aylsa was a remarkably patient teacher, repeating a word until he was comfortable with it. Thus, he was more than a little surprised when Meg stopped the cart…stopped the van. Confused, Mikal looked up and around. Where. . .were they? No one seemed to be leaving the van, and a quick glance told him that there were other, smaller carts surrounding them. There were also some that were around the same size. He looked back at Aylsa with a questioning glance. She smiled, patted his hand, and said simply, "Food." Now that, he understood!

The sun was high in the sky, and as best as Mikal could figure, it would probably be another five or six hours before darkness settled. He was hungry, but until Aylsa mentioned it, he never really thought about it. What would he eat? Everyone was looking out the sides of the van, at a large sign with lettering on it. Perhaps the menu? Then how would he know what to eat? Mikal nearly snorted in self-disgust as he realized it mattered not at all. He knew not how to read English, nor what these foods were. Which meant he would need to trust Meg. He did trust her. But Mikal wished he was not so terribly dependent on her. I will not always be, he thought, making a promise to himself, one day, I will be able to speak English and understand what is being said. One day, I will have my strength back, and when I do, I will look after Meg, and Kristin, and Aylayna, as they have looked after me!

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Well, when all was said and done, it wasn't as bad as she feared. In fact, on a scale of one to ten, the conversation with her mother registered as a four. And after Megan reminded her family about the need for lunch, her dad called Kristin on her cell phone, asking where she wanted to eat. Surprise, surprise, Kristin hadn't really thought about it, and agreed to whatever the group in the van decided. That sparked a lively debate. While Mom and Gavin both wanted pizza, Megan suggested Sonic, reminding them that Michael was accustomed to hospital food. Plus, he was recovering from an abdominal wound. He could eat solid food, but something as spicy as pizza probably wasn't a good idea. Dad backed her up on that. Fortunately, the rest of her family loved Sonic as well, as did Elena. So Sonic it was.

As she pulled into the parking lot, Megan was relieved to see that the lunchtime crowd hadn't hit yet. She wasn't comfortable with the idea of Michael getting out of the van to sit at one of the benches in front of the building. . .besides, she liked eating in the van. It brought back memories of when she was very young, and they would go to Sonic for ice cream. They would sit in the station wagon, with the radio on a classical music station, and the windows rolled down. At that time, Megan didn't like classical music (although, she was happy to say that her taste in music had improved), but the ice cream treats always made it worthwhile.

No ice cream for now, though she didn't doubt Michael would enjoy it. She wanted to wait until they were home (her apartment building) before she introduced him to the joys of ice cream. For now. . . Megan mused aloud, "I'm thinking for his first meal outside the hospital, my best bet would be a corndog. What do you think, Dad?" She looked to her right. Dad was reading the menu (and, no doubt, making faces at Elena and Kristin, who were right beside them).

She once saw (and bought) a t-shirt for Elena's father. . .'grandpas are just antique little boys.' It fit Tio Manuel, and it fit her father as well. Although, he wasn't a grandfather. From the backseat, her cousin commented, "If you want to play it safe, a corndog's fine." There was a brief pause, then he repeated with meaning, "If you want to play it safe." Megan turned in her seat, eyeing Gavin.

She asked, "If I want to play it safe? Gavin, Michael was just released from the hospital, and I don't want him getting sick! He's healing beautifully, and I have no intention of risking that." Gavin blanched. . .he hadn't taken that into consideration. Megan was seriously tempted to bounce her head off the steering wheel. Maybe she shouldn't be so hard on him. . .his ex-wife saw to it that his contact with Reece was limited, and he wasn't around while Kristin was a baby. Michael wasn't a child, but he was healing, and they did have to be careful about what he ate. . .at least in the beginning.

Unexpectedly, Dad laughed and told her, "You're thinking like a parent, Meggie." Startled, Megan looked at him, and he continued, "And that's why your mother will start in, ever so often, about grandbabies." There was a protesting noise from the back seat, beside Michael, and Dad responded, "Ah, none of that, Ailsa. You forget, I've been in the room when you start nagging Meg about when she'll give us grandchildren. And unlike you, I remember just how stubborn she can be."

"I've got no business being a parent, not yet," Megan stated, her hands tightening around the steering wheel, "especially not a single parent. There is no such thing as the perfect life for a child, but a single police officer, even in a town like Campbell. . .that's a recipe for heartbreak. Cops die in the line of duty." This was a conversation she had with her parents before, especially her mother. . .who didn't seem to understand. Cops, firefighters, soldiers, they all died in the line of duty. They all left people behindm people who loved them. And she just wasn't ready to take that chance with a child's heart.

Gavin said quietly, "That they do. There's no such thing as ever really being ready to be a parent, but I do think that once you're ready. . .I'll back you all the way." This was so unexpected from her cousin, Megan looked over her shoulder with a frown. He was staring back at her, his bright eyes steady and serious. She wasn't sure if it was due to his own regrets over Reece or something else, but right now, it was enough that she didn't have to fight this battle on yet another front. He added, his lips quirking, "Make that two corndogs. Gotta convince Michael that it's safe to eat, after all."

"Oh, is that what you call it? Because it couldn't be that my dear cousin, who served in the Marines for nearly twenty years, is playing it safe? I mean, I've heard all sorts of things about ex-Marines," Megan returned, her lips twitching. The young detective was rewarded with a low growl from her cousin. Her father just snickered, though she could tell he was trying not to.

"Megan Penelope Veronica, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. There is no such thing as an ex-Marine!" Gavin growled. Megan just giggled a little and her father mouthed, 'you are so bad!' Yes, she knew, and it was such fun! Especially when she was annoying Gavin. He was sooo easy to irritate. She talked with some of his Marine buddies, and knew he wasn't like that in the Corps. Must be a family thing. While the Corps was family in a sense, it was different, too.

"You should know better than to fall for the bait, Gavin. So, Michael and Gavin are having corndogs. Have you decided what you want, Meg?" her father asked. She shook her head, returning her attention to the menu. She was rather fond of corndogs herself, but right now, just about anything sounded good. Dad went on, "I think I'll have a wrap. So that's three down and two to go." He didn't say anything more, but Megan knew her father. . .and knew that he was barely restraining himself from teasing her and her mother by pointing out that the two holdouts were both women.

"I'll have a coney with onions," Mom announced. Oops. Shouldn't have said a word, Dad, Megan thought, directing a grin at him. He just groaned and dropped his face into his hands. He was muttering something, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know what he was saying. She could swear in two languages (English and Spanish), and he could swear in at least three (English, French, and Irish Gaelic). A glance into the rearview mirror showed that her mother was wearing a Cheshire-cat grin, that only broadened when she added, "I suppose that means you'll be sleepin' on the sofa, Francis?"

"Meggie, can I come stay with you tonight?" Dad wheedled. Megan bit her lower lip as he continued, "I can help you look after Michael!" Now this, she had missed. More seriously, her father continued, "That reminds me, you're planning on taking Michael to the apartment building after you drop us off?" Megan nodded. . .yeah, that was what she was planning to do. Dad went on, "Good. He doesn't need the stress of getting out and getting in the van today. Take him back to your building, and we can get together tomorrow, or whenever you have a day off. Regardless of what your mother says, we need a day to recuperate as well."

Yet again, her mother protested, and Dad looked at Megan with a long-suffering expression. She wasn't fooled, too terribly much. Her parents had been married for thirty-five years, after all. Megan and Kristin were among the lucky ones, and they knew it. Their parents were still together, and still crazy about each other (sometimes, to the point of being embarrassing). They knew how lucky they were, when so many of their friends survived the respective divorces of their parents. That was something else she had in common with Elena. Tio Manuel and Tia Soledad had been married for nearly the same amount of time as Megan's own parents.

Which was why she just smiled at him and said, "Okay, so we have a coney with onions, at least two coney dogs, and a wrap. I'm assuming you want a chicken wrap, Dad?" He nodded with a mock-glare, which she blithely ignored. So, all that was left was hers. She still wasn't ready to order, so to buy herself time, Megan asked next, "Anyone have any ideas about what they want to drink?" A smack connected with the back of her head, and she reached over her shoulder to grab the retracting hand. Not surprisingly, it belonged to Gavin, and as ever, she repaid him in kind with a smack to his hand before releasing it. He just humphed, but that was the extent of his complaint.

"Sweet tea, of course," her mother chimed in. Of course. How silly of her to even ask. Mom continued after a moment, "I think sweet tea would be good for Michael as well." Meg nodded thoughtfully. Probably a good idea. Sweet tea wasn't bland, but it wasn't as potent as a Coke or Pepsi. So that was two definite sweet teas. As much as Dad loved the South and North Carolina, he never really developed the taste for sweet tea, so he would probably get a Coke. . .or maybe a shake.

"Gavin?" Megan called over her shoulder, smirking as she noticed her cousin's pout. Still on that, was he? Not that she was complaining. There was a time after his divorce when she was afraid he would never smile again. Melodramatic? Maybe, but it was also true. Some of her classmates found it odd that she and Gavin behaved more like brother and sister than like cousins. . .then again, most of those classmates had cousins scattered all over the continental US, whom they only saw every few years. On the other hand, nearly all of her classmates called the siblings of their parents 'aunt' or 'uncle,' something Gavin never called either of her parents. As far back as she could remember, Gavin always called her parents by their given name. It was a quirk of her cousin's, and over the years, she just got used to it. Along with all of his other quirks.

She just wished she knew why he reacted the way he did to Michael. That. . .something about that nagged at her. She glanced at Michael in the rear view mirror and had to smile. Every time she looked at him, Megan remembered again why she had to bring him to Campbell. Besides, with both of her 'babies' grown up, Mom needed someone to take care of. So, for that matter, did Mrs. Watkins. Oh. Now there would be a meeting for the record books! Considering the way Mrs. Watkins looked after her. . .oh yeah. This could be fun.

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Hmmm. She supposed she really couldn't/shouldn't complain. The idea of her Champions driving separately nagged at her. . .they were stronger together, rather than apart, but she could also see the practicality in it. Though Ronan's van was large, it wasn't quite large enough to carry seven people, a dog, plus luggage. She could make statements regarding Ailsa Rafferty's wardrobe, but that would make her a hypocrite. Besides, given that the woman was coming back from a cruise, Pelagia supposed her number of suitcases was reasonable.

Since her Champions were in good hands, Pelagia turned her attention to Ronan Daly. Good. He did just as she instructed. She knew, of course, of his electronic mailing list. And she also knew that the reincarnation of Grima Wormtongue, the emergency technician now called Gabriel Wainwright, was on that list. Finally, she knew that Legolas and Haldir now counted Gabriel among their allies. It was for that reason that she directed Ronan to contact Gabriel directly, not through the mailing list, about the discovery of Boromir in the Raleigh alley. He was not to do that immediately, she told him. Wait until after the Rafferty sisters and Elena Gutierrez checked him out of the hospital and into their care.

By that time, Legolas and Haldir would have reached their destination, and Boromir would be safely away. Indeed, a quick check told her that Legolas and Haldir arrived at the stables, unscathed, and left in the same condition. Fortunately for the prince, the granddaughter of the owner was not at the stables. With more than a trace of humor, Pelagia reflected that it was a blessing for the prince. Vanessa was a sweet child, but exactly that. A child, and while her attention was flattering to Legolas, it was also rather awkward. Johanna Watkins was young in the eyes of Elves, but none of the Firstborn would ever call her a child. Not after everything she saw and experienced in her life.

With the young Elves observed, Pelagia's focus was now only divided between Raleigh and Tulsa. Ronan was not entirely comfortable with the idea of telling Gabriel about Boromir. Not particularly because Gabriel was the reincarnation of Grima, but more because of Ronan's fierce desire to protect his rediscovered friend. In addition, Ronan was something of a romantic. . .maybe even an idealist. He was a man who, like many others, found the idea of a quest attractive. Pelagia thought that was somewhat ironic, considering his previous incarnation. Gimli, of all people, would know about the darker side of quests: the lack of hygiene, the hours and days of walking, the boredom.

On the other hand, he remembered the joy as well. Ronan didn't want to give Legolas the information about Boromir, he wanted Legolas to find it on his own. Pelagia could appreciate that, but she had no idea how much time they had. . .if they could afford to wait. Whenever this looming problem became manifest, she knew that her Champions would need the aid of both Legolas and Haldir. Quests were fine. . .but back-up was far more necessary in this situation. That meant Legolas and Haldir. It also meant Gabriel Wainwright. He would be needed. Pelagia could see that. What was hidden from her was the reason he would be needed. Was his presence required because he was a first responder? Was it required because he was the reincarnation of Grima Wormtongue? Or was there another reason? She could not see that.

Strange. To look at the man still staring at his computer screen, one would never imagine he was once a traitor, his treason born in part of lust. But. . .that was the point of reincarnation, was it not? A second chance. In those last few moments of his life, when Grima was offered a chance at forgiveness, at atonement, there was nothing he wanted more. In that life, he was responsible, even indirectly, for the deaths of so many. In this life, he saved the lives of many others. Some of his co-workers wondered why he was so driven, so determined to fight for each life that he encountered. Was it, they wondered, because of what he saw in Oklahoma City in 1995? Perhaps that was part of the reason. But Pelagia was certain that the perfidy of Grima Wormtongue was a far more significant reason. In his mind, Gabriel knew he was only the reincarnation of the traitor. Not the man himself. But his heart. . .ah, his heart was another story entirely. She feared for him, in truth. How far would he go to atone? Would he sell his soul? Would he sacrifice his life? How far would anyone go for atonement? As her focus returned to her Champions once more, Pelagia had no doubt that when the time came, she. . .and Gabriel himself. . .would learn the answer to that, once and for all.