Author's Notes: No, this story has not been abandoned. I just haven't had the energy to work on it. However, this coming week is the last of the semester, and despite certain issues that cropped up at work, I am truly looking forward to it. It's been a long month, a long semester, a long year, and honestly, I'm glad to see the end of 2018. I'm hoping 2019 is much better. I'm also leaving for Houston the day after Christmas, something I'm seriously looking forward to. This is a shorter chapter than I intended to write, but Slade, as ever, has his own ideas about how to do things … and I listen to what he has to say. For those who are curious about the mental health issues of Meg's biological mother, I'm still working that out. Clare is a bit cagey about that part of her life, and she never told Meg what exactly was wrong with her … something which did far more to damage the relationship between them than her actual illness. In the previous chapter, in her email to Veronica/Rebecca, Meg lamented the deterioration of her relationship with her mother. On the other side of that, Clare does love her daughter … she just has no idea how to reach out to Meg, as much due to guilt as her certainty that Meg doesn't need her. After all, she has Chloe and she has Bastiaan … she doesn't need Clare. The time is coming when she'll realize how wrong she is about that. In any event, in this chapter, Slade and Meg discuss what comes next … and Slade comes to a VERY uncomfortable realization. We should see Adeline and baby!Grant in the next chapter, and hopefully Rebecca as well.

Chapter Two

Turning Disadvantages Into Advantages

St. Luke's Memorial Hospital

Destine, Missouri

Early January 2018

Late Afternoon

A small body lay curled against his own, shifting every few seconds, as if trying to get comfortable. Which, he supposed, she was. They'd been terribly … active … earlier that night. He smiled to himself and rested his hand over the hand covering his heart, trapping it in place. There was a soft grumble of protest, but the movement stopped, allowing him to relax. He'd never imagined he'd be allowed to have this again … even for a season. He'd never imagined that he'd ever feel right again, sleeping beside someone who seemed so soft, so fragile. But … as he reminded others quite often, assumption was the mother of all failure. He'd made assumptions, about what he could have and about the strength of the woman beside him, and … why was he hearing beeping?

Slade slowly drifted back to consciousness, his awareness expanding outward from the sound of the machines monitoring his condition, to the sensation of fingers curled around his own, to the antiseptic smell of the hospital, and finally to the various aches and pains in his body. Right. He was in hospital … not only did he remember that fact, but he remembered how he ended up there, and he remembered the last time he was conscious-remembered waking up in the hospital to find Meg Carvalho beside him.

He (very) briefly wished he could go back to sleep, even if he wasn't sure who was curled up beside him in his dream, but dismissed it half a breath later. That would get him exactly nowhere, and his son needed him. Even if he hadn't seen Adeline standing in what he privately called the observation tower, he would have known that she was involved at some point. He recognized the drug … recognized how it made him feel as soon as it entered his bloodstream, and the only person who knew just how effective it was … was Adeline. Whether she was behind his capture or was a captive herself, he wasn't sure. He just knew that Grant needed him.

A quick glance to his side told him what he already suspected … that it was Meg who was holding his hand. She'd fallen back to sleep sometime after he did, lines of fatigue etched into her face, and guilt flared in his soul. She'd been worried about him. Slade wasn't entirely sure how to define his relationship with Meg. He knew that he felt some sort of tug toward her, but whether it was attraction or something else, he wasn't entirely certain. And given his past, he was afraid to find out. But she did matter to him … she and Angel both. He debated for a minute whether he should wake her up, and then decided it would be for the best if he did. She couldn't be terribly comfortable like this (and no, he wasn't going to pull her into bed beside him. Even if he wasn't sure he was attracted to her, he knew that she was attracted to him, and that wouldn't be fair to her). Instead, he gently tightened his fingers around hers.

There was a mumbled protest and once more, Slade tightened his fingers around hers, murmuring her name at the same time. That got more of a reaction … her fingers tightened in turn and her dark head raised from the bed. She blinked a few times, before smiling at him sleepily and murmuring, "Slade. Hi. How are you feeling?" He thought briefly about telling her the complete and unvarnished truth … like he'd had the shite beaten out of him … but decided that would just worry her more (even though she knew he'd been beaten. And that the kid who laid into him the worst tore his shirt so he could see the bruises he was leaving on Slade's torso). Or as Angel liked to say when he snarked at her, 'not helpful.' He pointed out that he didn't have to be helpful, only to be reminded for the umpteenth time that she was a teenager. Like he could forget that?

Instead, he answered Angel's mother (wincing at how hoarse he sounded), "I hurt, but I'll live. You okay?" She nodded, blinking sleep from her eyes. She rubbed at her face with her free hand (and no, it hadn't escaped Slade's notice that she wasn't letting go of his), before resting her cheek against their clasped hands. She didn't seem to be aware of what she was doing … she really didn't seem to be aware of much of anything at the moment, and Slade decided against bringing it to her attention. He'd learned that something like that would embarrass her and he didn't have the energy for her blushing apologies when she figured it out.

"Yeah, 'm okay. Glad you are. We were worried about you. You said the last time you were awake that you found Grant and Adeline … well, that you saw Adeline in the observation tower?" Meg asked huskily. Annnnd, again, she reminded him why he was coming to care for her more than he really should. He nodded, wincing a bit at the pain in his head. Meg was silent for a few minutes as she processed that. At last, she asked, "Do you think they're still there? Since whoever was holding you has probably figured out that you've been rescued?"

"Unknown. Could go either way. Personally, I think it's smarter to stay put … there's a strategic risk every time you move a hostage, and I'm not sure if it's a risk. It could be, too, that Adeline isn't a hostage at all," Slade answered. Meg frowned, and Slade explained, "I've told you in the past that as an operative of the ASIS, I was trained to withstand interrogation and torture. Part of that is becoming resistant to most drugs, building up a resistance to them. There's a downside to that, when I was injured … I was resistant to most sedatives, so they developed a sedative that could put me under."

"And that's how your captors took you down," Meg guessed. Slade inclined his head, and Meg continued, "Which means that they got it from an ASIS operative … of which, your wife was one." As Angel would have said, nailed it. Meg was silent for several moments, before her dark eyes flickered back to his face, and she asked, "But you don't think she's willing, you think she's a captive. Why?" Slade started to ask what she meant, but stopped … because while she was the wife of a cop, she wasn't an ASIS officer, and more than that, she didn't know Adeline.

"Because if she was willing, she would have been on the warehouse floor to confront me," Slade answered honestly. Meg nodded thoughtfully, before lapsing into silence once more. Slade didn't mind. It gave him time to order his thoughts. It … Oh. Hell. He said, "The three who took me down … I recognize them." Meg looked at him, startled, and Slade told her, "It was the three kids who tried to jump me on my first night in Destine, a few weeks back." Meg's eyebrows climbed into her hairline.

However, all she said was, "Well. That's problematic." Slade would have rolled his eyes at her penchant for understatements, but his head was hurting again. There was a buzzing sound, and he thought for a moment that it was coming from inside his skull, but Meg reached over to the table that sat beside him. Oh. It was her mobile. She smiled slightly, saying, "It's from Angel. Lindy just picked her up from school, they'll be here in about twenty minutes. Slade, if you're in pain, I suggest you ask for medication … I've seen Angel when she's worried, and she's been worried sick about you."

… So noted. Meg continued, her voice growing softer, "So, we're operating under the idea that Adeline is a captive, rather than a conspirator, keeping in mind that she may still be a conspirator. Grant's safety is paramount … so how do we get them out?" Slade arched a brow over his eyepatch, and Meg added a bit impatiently, "Slade, sweetheart, right now, Angel could take you without trouble … you'll need help if you want to rescue them, so I say again: how do we get them out?" Slade really wished he could tell her that she was wrong … but she wasn't. And looking into the determined face of the woman who gave him shelter and succor, Slade realized she would help him in any way she could. More to the point, any protestations that he couldn't ask her to help would be met with a firm, 'you're not asking. I'm offering.'

There was also the distinct possibility that she would get herself into trouble, trying to help. This way, he could direct her desire to help toward something that wouldn't get her or Angel killed. He sighed, "Very well. Whoever has them … I suspect they won't be pleased when they figure out that I'm no longer their prisoner. I have to figure out a way to use that to our advantage. Actually … you know how you can help whilst I'm recovering?" Meg eyed him cautiously, and Slade went on, "Find out what you can about the warehouse where I was found. Who owns it, how long it's been abandoned."

Meg actually smirked at him, responding, "Oh, I can tell you most of that right now. Remember, Slade … I used to work in a law office. The partner I used to help the most specialized in real estate law. So, I can tell you who owned it originally, when it was abandoned. I can even tell you that about six months ago, it was bought by a firm that apparently specializes in revitalizing old buildings. What was the name of it? It was a bit on the odd side, kinda reminded me of something out of that old tv show Angel … Wolfram, Hart, and something or other. Wolfman-Kane … that was it."

Slade's heart skipped a beat. Joe had been using the name Kane Wolfman. Was it possible? Meg tilted her head slowly to one side, asking, "That name means something to you … doesn't it?" Slade didn't answer at first, couldn't answer at first, because it didn't add up. Why would Joe hold his mother and little brother hostage? Especially since the last intel Slade saw indicated that Joe was in Austria.

However, Meg was waiting, rather patiently, for an answer, and Slade answered slowly, "Kane was my wife's maiden name. Wolfman … it was an alias that my oldest son used in the past. May still use, I'm not sure." Meg's eyes widened with that, and he could just see the calculations that were going on inside of that head of hers. By now, he knew that her own past was hardly the source of Hallmark movies, but she'd had an aunt who adored her and an uncle who was there when he could be. Which was to say, she knew quite well how messed up families could be.

"Are you thinking that this is a shadow corporation your oldest is using?" Meg asked, but before he could answer, she murmured, "But if that was the case, why would he be holding his mother and brother hostage? That's the part that doesn't make any sense to me. And if it really was him, wouldn't he have confronted you as well? You mentioned that your ex would have come out to confront … by which I'm sure you mean taunt … you. I don't know much about your relationship with Joe, but based on what you said about the last time you two saw each other …"

Slade huffed a laugh, and immediately regretted it as pain flared in his injured ribs. But he forced it back, because that was what he did, even when he was no longer on the island. Instead of focusing on the pain, he answered, "I don't believe it's Joe … the last I saw, he was in Europe … but it's someone connected to Adeline, somehow. She had a younger sister, but Rose died not long before I ended up on Lian Yu." In truth, the death of his young sister-in-law accelerated the destruction of his marriage to Adeline. Looking back now, he could see that, but at the time, he knew only that Adeline was running hot and cold, that he wasn't being the kind of father that Joe needed, and that he was grieving for Rose as well. Finding Yao Fei … that was something he could do. And look at how well that turned out.

"Let me do some more digging, see what I can find out. But, Slade …whatever happened? People make their own decisions. You may have influenced those decisions, one way or another, but people make their own decisions, and they have to own that. You've owned up to your mistakes, and have been trying to set things right … not just for your younger brother, but for everyone else who got caught in the crossfire. Don't take their responsibilities away from them, that's not helping them. At all," Meg said quietly, her dark eyes intent on his face. Slade offered a half-smile, suddenly feeling very tired.

"When Joe was thirteen, I took him to Milford Sound in New Zealand. It was a father-son camping trip … which also doubled as a mission. It was supposed to be just about him and me. He asked me if I was really an airline pilot. I gave him a half-truth. I can fly planes … and land them safely, don't smirk at me, Meg. But I didn't work for any airlines. There was a Chinese operative who was there at the same time, who knew where a contact of mine was being held. While Joe was eating, I … intercepted this operative. We struggled, and I ended up killing him. What I didn't realize was that Joe had followed me … and saw the whole thing. I turned my son into a killer," he answered, totally prepared to get a full-on Meg-blast.

What he got, instead, was a huffed, "Bullshit." Slade looked at her, startled not just by her reaction, but by her language. He didn't remember ever hearing her swear before, and again, Meg said, "Bullshit. You did no such thing. Did you do something stupid? That probably wasn't the smartest thing you could have done, no. And yes, our children learn from watching us. But if that turned Joe into a killer, then there was something else wrong with him." Slade started to speak, but Meg waved him to silence.

Her lips trembled, but her voice was steady as she said, "When I was eleven, my mother was … having a spell. Aunt Chloe … there were times when she had to go away. She actually did work for an airline, you see, and while most of the time, she could remain at her home airport, on occasion, she had to travel. When she did, she always made sure that my mother had her medication, and made sure that I had her contact information. This time was no different in that respect. But this time, after choosing not to take her medication, my mother decided that we needed more groceries. She really wasn't supposed to be driving, so I stalled her as much as I could. Of course, since I was eleven, she figured out what I was doing, and threatened to go alone. I couldn't let her do that, so … I got in the car with her. At first, everything was fine. Except … when we got ready to leave, my mother thought that someone cut her off with a shopping cart. And that was unacceptable to her, totally unacceptable."

Slade wasn't sure why, but his chest began to tighten, even before he saw Meg's eyes were misting over. She went on hoarsely, "I remember, it was a bright, hot day. Mother … she got to our car before the other woman got to hers. I was crying and pleading with her to stop, so she left me at the store front. I knew something bad was about to happen, but people just ignored me, thought I was just being a spoiled brat because I hadn't gotten something I wanted. My mother watched where that other woman was going and after she put away all of her groceries, slammed into the back end of her car … where the woman's five year old son was sitting. She'd underestimated the time she needed in the store, and wanted to get back to her son, so she wasn't paying attention to what was around her. Again, not the smartest thing she could have done, all the way around … but her son almost died because my mother …"

Slade closed his good eye, quietly horrified. Meg went on, forcing him to open his eye again, "I saw all of this from the store front. I watched my mother plow into the back of another woman's car. I heard that woman's screams as she beat on the windows, trying to get to her son. And finally, finally, someone listened to what I was trying to tell them. They got that little boy out of that car. And then, my mother was arrested. She was arrested, and they called my uncle Brady to come get me, at least until Aunt Chloe got home."

By now, tears were rolling down her cheeks and Slade, not knowing what else to do, curled his fingers around hers. He was never good at comforting … Shado (beautiful, kind Shado) was much better at it. But Shado was long-dead, and Slade was the only one here. So he squeezed her hand, not knowing what to say. Meg licked her lips and brushed away her tears with her free hand, saying, "I was eleven. Two years younger than your son was. Are you responsible for your kids? Absolutely. But they're also responsible for themselves after they reach a certain age. My mother … your son … my daughter … myself … we all know the difference between right and wrong. He made his own choices. Just as my mother did. Just as I did."

The words hung between them for several moments, and then Slade asked softly, "What happened in the end?" He wasn't even sure it was important, but he wanted to know. Clarissa Anderson traumatized her eleven year old daughter just as badly as he obviously traumatized Joe. So what was the difference? Was it simply that eleven year old Meg knew that her mother wasn't someone to emulate, something thirteen year old Joe hadn't realized yet? That almost sounded like he was blaming his son.

Meg sniffed a little, before answering, "I was removed from my mother's custody immediately, no matter how much she screamed and begged. And oh, how she screamed and begged. I was her little girl, they couldn't take me away from her. I remember … I remember the judge told her that she'd already placed my life in danger, by choosing to drive when she was supposed to be on medication. She … she said that the medication, she didn't take her medication that morning. And he told her that … that she made that choice. Not just that, but not once during this entire mess did she apologize for what she did. Not once did she show remorse. She blamed the medication, she blamed the lack of medication, she blamed the other woman, she blamed Aunt Chloe for being away. She blamed me, for crying and making it harder to think."

Slade wasn't quite able to bite back the growl that crawled up from his throat. Over the last few weeks, he'd come to realize that Sissy had no use for Clarissa Anderson. Oh, she'd never said a word against Meg's biological mother, but he quickly realized that Sissy didn't like her. He was beginning to understand why. It didn't get better when Meg added in a distant voice, "I wonder about that sometimes, if she was right. I know the other woman … I think her name was Julie … she told me that it wasn't my fault. My mother almost killed her son. But she didn't blame me."

"Because it wasn't your fault, in any way, shape or form, and your mother had no business trying to blame you for her actions. And even if your crying made it harder for her to think, it's still on her, because she didn't take her sodding medicine that morning. She owns …" Too late, Slade realized the trap she'd just placed before him (worse yet, it wasn't even intentional). He mumbled, "Bloody hell." Meg only blinked at him, as if not sure what he was talking about. He closed his eye for a minute before adding, "All right, you've made your point, love."

Meg blinked a few times before offering him a watery, sheepish smile. They were silent for several moments as Slade reeled from what he just learned and Meg composed herself. At last, Meg asked softly, "What do we do now? I admit, I'm not a scary bad-ass like you, but it seems to me that we need more information, and I'm not sure how to do that." Slade exhaled slowly, wincing at the twinge in his side, his ribs protesting even that slight movement. He hated to say it, to even think it, but Meg was right about him needing help.

"You said that you still have contacts within that law firm you used to work for?" he asked finally, and Meg bobbed her head. Okay. He went on, "See how much they're willing to tell you." His companion smiled unexpectedly, and Slade was suddenly very worried. The fact that Meg was smiling didn't worry him. The way she was smiling, on the other hand? That was outright terrifying. One thing he'd learned about Meg during the last few weeks … her cat-ate-the-canary smile was never a good sign for someone.

"Remember, darlin,' you're in a small town. The lawyer I used to help? All I need to do is tell him the truth, that you were found in that particular warehouse," she answered. Ahhh … good point. However, there was something she wasn't considering. Not that he cared, for himself, but he didn't want her or Angel in trouble or in danger. That, of course, was when she dropped the other shoe, adding, "And, as far as my in-laws on the force are concerned, if I share that information with them, and don't try to interfere with the investigation, there's no cause for concern. Unless we want it to be."

It was a measure of how the sedative was still affecting Slade three days after being injected with it, that it took him a few minutes to realize what she was saying, and when it did … He stared at her in horror, answering, "No. Absolutely not, you are not offering yourself as bait." Meg opened her mouth, no doubt to defend her position, but Slade went on, getting angry at the very idea of it, "We'll find another way. I am trained for this, Meg. I spent years training in the Australian military and in the ASIS, not to mention those years on Lian Yu. You have no training, whatsoever. No. Not an option."

"We need to make it an option, Slade. Not because I want to, because God knows it scares the hell out of me, but because if we don't, whoever has your son and ex may take the choice out of our hands. By now, whoever captured you has figured out that you're gone. If they haven't yet, which I doubt since your ex had a front row seat to those three dingbats beating the crap out of you, they will soon. Is it possible that they'll assume you escaped? I suppose, but more likely, they'll realize that you were rescued … which means outside help," Meg argued. Slade opened his mouth to answer, until he realized she was right. Damn.

However, he stood by his previous statement. She wasn't trained, so how had she figured that out? He suspected that she wouldn't tell him if he glowered at her (for some reason, he didn't frighten her, and he still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad)… which meant that he needed to ask her directly. Huffing a little (and he really needed to stop doing that, his ribs were seriously not happy with him right now. None of his lower torso was, really), Slade asked, "How did you come to that conclusion? Not saying that you're wrong, but how did you get to that particular argument?"

Meg, not so surprisingly, blushed and answered, "Uhm, I overheard Troy Everett and Andrew Perkins talking while you were unconscious, and Troy worrying over my safety and Angel's." Slade started to speak, to apologize for putting her and her daughter in danger, but Meg shook her head, adding, "If the next words out of your mouth are to apologize, don't bother. You staying has protected us more than leaving would have. We just have to figure out how to turn this to our advantage." She was silent for a moment, a wistful smile touching her lips as she eventually added, "That was something Stephen always used to say … find a way to turn a disadvantage into an advantage."

For some reason, Slade thought of a spoiled young man who washed up on the shores of an island, with no training until he met Slade himself … who still managed to disrupt the operations of one Edward Fyars. Oliver had done that. Yes, Slade gave him the tools to do it, but Oliver did that. Slade's training (coupled with training from Shado and Yao Fei) helped to turn Oliver into a weapon. He wasn't interested in turning Meg or Angel into weapons, but she was right. Everett and Perkins were right. Whoever had him captured would realize soon that he was gone, and more to the point, that he was rescued. They would also realized that he was rescued, and so, wasn't alone on the outside. Which meant that whoever rescued him … or befriended him … became a target. He could deny that … or he could, as he had once before, teach someone how not to die. Turn a disadvantage into an advantage.

"We already have an advantage. This is our home territory, we know it better than they do. However … you're one hundred percent correct. You and Angel are already targets. Now, I'm not using you as bait … not you and not Angel. But, I'm not adverse to creating a plan that we can implement, if it becomes necessary. So, while we wait for your daughter, let's put our heads together and see if we can't figure out a way to turn this potential disadvantage into an advantage," Slade answered. Meg's smile was like the sun coming up. Nothing was resolved, except Slade's determination to rescue his youngest child … as well as protect the mother and daughter who opened their home to him.

TBC