Author's Note 1: Just a note in response to a comment (on one of the sites)... No, there isn't very much on-screen action in "Eye of the Storm" - there's not meant to be. Its purpose is as a transition story between In Search of the Truth and the (still untitled) sequel to EotS.
Author's Note 2: I apologize for the very long delay in posting this update. There are several reasons for it... problems in Real Life, for the most part; the fact that these posts to are done differently than the ones to PhilosophySphere and Seven's eZboard (i.e. one part here may be two or three parts there); and, of course, the fact that Liam ended up trying to hijack the first section of this part, resulting in even further delays while I tried to bring it back on track.
[Sandoval glances up from the report he's studying at his desk. "Yes, Liam is becoming rather willful, isn't he?" The head of the Companion-Protector program then ducks as a paper airplane sails toward him, from the direction of the Flight Commander's desk...
tag stalks into Sandoval's office and glares. Both Sandoval's desk and Liam's are absolutely covered in all manner of paper airplanes - not to mention the paper shuttles scattered over the floor and on top of the pile on Sandoval's desk.
Sandoval meets tag's eyes calmly. "Trust me, this wasn't my idea." He gestures toward the Flight Commander's desk. "Speak to my son about it."
Liam looks guilty for a long moment, then suddenly grins evilly ("Hey! That's my tradmarked expression!" tag cries) and launches another paper shuttle attack, this time at both Sandoval and tag...
Half an hour later, Da'an and Zo'or walk in to find the office full of paper airplanes and shuttles, and no sign of the head of the Companion-Protector program, the Flight Commander, or the author...]
Disclaimers in Pt. 1.
Lieutenant Colonel Gary McKenna, US Army Rangers, lay on his pallet and stared up at the ceiling of his cell on the Taelon mothership. He felt sluggish from all the drugs that had been pumped into him over the past two and a half days, but at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that he hadn't broken so far.
He had to admit that the doctor Sandoval had brought in to interrogate him was good. One of the better interrogators McKenna had met, in fact; just not good enough to overcome him. Sandoval himself might have been; but according to a conversation he'd overheard between the doctor and the Volunteer captain who was assisting him, Sandoval was on vacation. Making up for lost time, presumably, since he'd originally gone on vacation just before McKenna had made his first move.
It had been Sandoval taking the vacation in the first place that had prompted him to move when he had. If he'd attacked Kincaid while Sandoval was on duty, the Taelons' puppet agent would have had no choice but to respond; the Taelons would have insisted on it. By holding off until Sandoval had apparently left the scene for two weeks, McKenna had assumed that he'd be able to target Kincaid, take him out, and be comfortably away before Sandoval came back. After all, it was common knowledge - in the right circles - that the two Protectors disliked each other intensely, mirroring their Companions' attitudes.
I forgot the Golden Rule; to assume makes an ass of 'u' and me. Stupid of me.
It hadn't gone as planned at all. For one thing, Kincaid had been surprisingly hard to target, and seemed to have an amazing physical resilience; and Sandoval had returned to duty as soon as he'd heard about the attack. That hadn't been anticipated at all.
I should have done so; should have made plans in case Sandoval did interfere. But he's attempted to kill Kincaid so many times himself that none of us ever considered he might react the way he did.
There's only one bright spot in this entire fiasco, and that's the fact that at least I know we still have a plant on the mothership.
McKenna shifted, apparently reaching up to adjust the neck of the prison garb they'd given him, and his fingers brushed against the piece of paper he'd discovered on his lunch tray two days ago. 'Death to traitors.' It was a reminder that he wasn't alone, and that even if he should fail, there'd be another to take his place and deal with both Taelons and traitors as they deserved.
Zo'or waved his hand, impatiently dismissing the datastream he'd been studying, and glared over toward where Colonel Ahmid, currently on loan to him from Si'al while Agent Sandoval was on vacation, was standing.
Zo'or didn't like Sandoval. The human was too sly - too much like him, in some ways - to be trusted. And yet, he had both ambition, through which Zo'or could control him now that his motivational imperative was inoperable, and a combination of a canny intelligence and knowledge of his own species that had assisted Zo'or's endeavours many times. Sandoval had a tendency to challenge Zo'or, which - although it added to the sense of distrust he felt - also provided him with a much needed foil. It was, reluctant as he was to admit it, thanks to Agent Sandoval that the Taelons' situation on Earth wasn't worse than it was.
The two previous times when Agent Sandoval had not been available, he'd had Major Kincaid as his acting Protector. While the major wasn't as devious or as controllable as Agent Sandoval, he was - at the very least - a known quantity. It was one of the reasons why Zo'or had, when Agent Sandoval had mentioned the possibility of putting Major Kincaid in charge of the training program for the pilots, decided to do even more.
Not that he trusted Kincaid any more than he trusted Agent Sandoval, though for different reasons. Kincaid's loyalty was to Da'an, not to himself or the Synod.
At the same time, however, Kincaid had saved his life at least twice in the past month at risk to himself - even if the second time, it had been Kincaid who had been the real target. That demonstrated a willingness to sacrifice which was astonishing in one who had no functional implant. Zo'or was determined to know more about the major, and the reasons for his devotion.
However, that would have to wait until Major Kincaid returned from medical leave. In the meantime...
"Colonel Ahmid, have you been able to discover precisely how the press was able to discover what happened after my meeting with Si'al last week?" he demanded.
Ahmid turned to face him. "Not yet, sir," the Egyptian Protector replied. "I have people working on it in Cairo, and I have been investigating at this end; at present, there is nothing else to report."
"Then I suggest you work harder," Zo'or said curtly.
He could see that the Protector wasn't happy, but there was no argument.
"Of course, sir," the colonel replied, and turned back to the datastream he'd been working at.
"Zo'or," came a quiet voice from behind him, and Zo'or turned to see Da'an standing next to his command chair.
"Da'an," he replied coolly. "Did you wish something?"
"I was curious as to what progress has been made with the interrogation of Colonel McKenna," Da'an said calmly, ignoring Zo'or's tone, as he always did.
"Colonel Ahmid?" Zo'or questioned.
The colonel looked around, and then made a slight obeisance to Da'an. "Yes, sirs?"
"What progress has been made with the interrogation of the prisoner?"
"According to Captain Jardine, as of this morning, none of the interrogation drugs that the doctor has attempted have been successful. However, I was informed that the sessions have given the doctor invaluable information concerning the prisoner's reactions to the various drugs, and he believes that it will be possible to create a new drug that will bypass the prisoner's defenses. He is currently working with the healer Mit'gai on developing the drug in question, and Captain Jardine informed me that, according to the doctor, the new drug will be available for its first tests in five days. Captain Jardine has located some prisoners upon whom the doctor will be able to test the drug."
"Excellent," Zo'or declared, momentarily satisfied. Something, at least, was going right - and if this doctor's drug was successful, it could prove to be extremely useful.
Turning back to Da'an, he studied his parent's face for a moment. "Is that satisfactory, Da'an?"
His parent simply nodded, and then, without another word, turned and left the bridge. He'd been doing that a great deal lately...
Pushing the issue of Da'an's behaviour to the back of his mind, Zo'or called the datastream he'd been studying back up, and began to work.
His face was damp. That was the first thing that occurred to Liam as he regained consciousness. There was something cool and wet resting on his forehead; it took Liam a good minute or two, during which he kept his eyes closed, to figure out that it was probably a washcloth or a towel. He didn't understand what it was doing on his face, however.
Then the washcloth - or whatever it was - was removed, and a hand touched his forehead gently. It was strangely cool, and Liam felt a touch of alarm as he realized that it had to be Sandoval's hand. Why exactly was his father's hand so cool? Was something wrong?
He opened his eyes slowly - his eyelids felt heavy, as though they were weighted down - but for a long moment, all he could see was a blur of colour. He blinked, then blinked again, and the blur slowly resolved itself into Sandoval's face. His father looked openly concerned, Liam realized, and wondered why.
"Liam?" Sandoval said, and there was no mistaking the worry in his tone.
Liam frowned, bewildered. Something was obviously wrong, but why was Sandoval so concerned about him? He wasn't the one who was so cold...
Abruptly, Liam realized that he was lying down on the couch, and he couldn't remember falling asleep. Maybe Sandoval did think he had reason to be concerned.
"Sa'hedra, Va'nei," he mumbled, wanting to reassure his father, and started to try to sit up. His frown deepened; it felt as though he was moving through molasses. "Na'heira si'ough?"
It was Sandoval's turn to frown as he placed his hand against Liam's chest, keeping him still. "I'm sorry, Liam, I can't understand what you're saying. How are you feeling?"
Even more confused by the fact that he'd apparently spoken in the wrong language, Liam blinked again. "'M all right," he mumbled.
Sandoval shook his head. "No, you're not 'all right', Liam. You're running a very high fever."
"Fever?" Liam repeated. Wasn't he saying something about a fever earlier? This morning?
Is that why his hand feels so cool?
"That's right." Sandoval glanced away, but before Liam could protest, he heard a splashing sound. A moment later, a piece of dark cloth appeared in his field of view, and was gently put on his forehead. Back on his forehead, Liam realized - this was what he'd felt when he'd woken up. "Your temperature is currently 104, and you've been unconscious for nearly two hours. I was starting to get ready to call Dr. Park; if it gets any higher, I'm going to have to."
Sandoval sighed. "I don't know what's causing it. I re-checked your arm, which is still healed, and checked your shoulder, which isn't infected either."
"'Course not... can't get infected," Liam mumbled. His thoughts felt as sluggish as his limbs, and he was having trouble focusing on what his father was saying. "Too alien..." He didn't notice the fleeting frown that crossed Sandoval's face at that statement, or the slow dawning of realization in his eyes.
"So we know it's not an infection causing this," Sandoval said after a moment. "Do you have any idea what might be wrong?"
His father's face was blurring again, and Liam squinted in an effort to convince his eyes to focus. "Ever'thing's changing... don't know an'more..." He could hear his voice slurring, was aware that he was starting to slide back into unconsciousness. "Hard t'think... focus... please, ki'sha nassough, Va'nei..." So tired...
"Liam, look at me!"
Liam blinked, trying to focus, but it was hard. His eyes kept wanting to close, and stay shut. "Tired..." he repeated.
"Try not to fall asleep on me, okay? Liam?"
Liam fought to keep his eyes open. Sandoval sounded really worried. "'M trying..."
"Good. Keep trying," his father ordered. "I'll be right back, and I don't want you going to sleep while I'm gone."
With that, Sandoval stood up and headed for the door.
Liam bit his lower lip, trying to use the sensation to help keep him focused even as he wondered what his father was doing. His thoughts seemed so sluggish... he hated that. He'd never experienced anything like this before. Of course, he'd never had a fever before, either...
He could hear the sound of water running. What was his father doing? "San'oval?" he called - or tried to, at least.
"I'll be just a minute, Liam," his father called back, over the sound of the water.
"What're... you... doing?" Liam asked.
The water stopped running, and Sandoval walked in carrying a bowl.
"Wha's... that?"
"Cold water," his father replied. "Now that you're awake, we'll see if it helps better than cool water."
Liam watched as he dunked the washcloth in the water and then squeezed it out before placing it against Liam's forehead.
The cold was a shock, and Liam flinched away from it for a moment. Then, as the surprise passed, he realized that the cold felt good against his hot forehead, and relaxed into the sensation.
"How does that feel?" his father asked.
"Nice," Liam murmured. It was starting to cut through the fuzziness in his head, which he definitely appreciated.
"Good," his father replied, and a surprisingly comfortable silence fell.
Liam looked up at the ceiling, and let his thoughts wander where they would. Not surprisingly, it was in the direction of Lili and the Jaridians. "Sandoval?" he asked after a few minutes, pleased that he wasn't slurring his words anymore.
"What is it?" his father asked patiently.
"You said that you were in occasional contact with the Jaridians. Do you think... could I... Would I be able to talk to Lili, next time you contact them?"
Sandoval looked at his son carefully. He'd been expecting this question - he'd known from the beginning that Liam and Captain Marquette were close - but he wasn't entirely sure how best to answer.
Well, I already decided that honesty is the best policy when dealing with Liam...
"I can certainly try to arrange it, but there are no guarantees. I've only spoken to her once," he replied. "And it may not be possible for a few months."
"That's fine," Liam replied, and returned his attention to the ceiling.
Sandoval sat back in his chair and directed his gaze out the window, not wanting to make his son nervous by staring at him. He'd been given quite a bit to think about over the last several minutes.
His heart had almost stopped when Liam had collapsed with a moan of pain after his comment about the nightmare he'd been having Monday night. Then, when he had realized that Liam's fever was back, and wasn't mild this time... he'd come very close to panicking. If Liam hadn't regained consciousness - and managed to become as lucid as he was now - he would definitely have called Dr. Park by this time. In fact, when Liam had started speaking to him in the Kimera language, as opposed to English, he'd started to reach for his global.
Thinking about the Kimera made him wonder what 'va'nei' meant. Liam had used the word during his nightmare Monday, and he'd spoken it twice in the past quarter of an hour.
That thought, in turn, led him back to what he'd originally been contemplating; what Liam had said about infections, while he was still half out of it.
"'Course not... can't get infected... too alien..."
The way he'd said it... it explained a great deal about why Liam had been avoiding any discussion of his Kimera heritage, and the way he'd reacted when Sandoval had revealed that he knew the truth, not to mention why he'd thought he would be rejected.
What happened to convince him that being a hybrid was something to be ashamed of? Sandoval wondered. Somehow, I don't think the only factor in that was the need to hide the truth from the Taelons. Remembering Liam's smart-ass behaviour during the interview with himself and Zo'or - after Da'an had insisted that Liam be made his new Companion-Protector - Sandoval sighed softly. That had not been the behaviour of someone who was ashamed of what they were; nor had it been an act. And while Liam had obviously grown up and become wiser in the ways of the world since then - after all, he could only have been a few days old, at most, at the time - Sandoval couldn't understand why that would have made him ashamed of his alien heritage.
No, I suspect that there is someone - or perhaps more than one person - behind this, he thought, as he leaned forward to take the washcloth and feel Liam's face. His skin was still hot, and Sandoval dunked the cloth in the cold water again before re-applying it to Liam's forehead. His son watched curiously, but seemed to be as comfortable with the silence at the moment as Sandoval was. In fact, he looked as though he was doing some thinking of his own. Well, I'm going to find out who, and then... well, then we'll see.
"We'll leave that on for another few minutes, and then I want to take your temperature again," Sandoval said quietly. "With any luck, it will have gone down a bit by then; if it hasn't, it will be time to call Dr. Park."
"Okay," Liam agreed, his voice equally quiet, but he clearly wasn't overly happy about the thought of Dr. Park interrupting their vacation.
Well, Sandoval wasn't either, but... "I'm worried, Liam," he admitted. "104 is approaching seriously dangerous, and that's what your temperature has been for just over two hours."
Liam nodded, and then stared back up at the ceiling. Sandoval returned to his own thoughts, concerning Liam's reactions and feelings.
Something tells me I'm going to have my work cut out for me when it comes to convincing you about this shame thing... he reflected. I'm going to do it, though. I don't care how long it's going to take; I'm going to make you understand that you have nothing to be ashamed of, Liam. Not your heritage, and certainly not your behaviour... On the contrary, you should be proud of yourself. I know I am.
He was. It had been something of a surprise to him, but the fact was that Sandoval was proud. Despite all the obstacles that had been put in his way, including the ones that Sandoval himself had thrown at him, Liam had survived and kept his secrets. Considering the nature of those obstacles, that Liam had done so - and done it so well - was definitely an accomplishment worth being proud of. And I will tell you so. Not just yet - I don't think we're ready to get that personal, though I believe that we are getting there - but soon.
Then there was that other thing Liam had said, when Sandoval had asked him if he had any idea why he was so feverish... "Ever'thing's changing..."
What had he meant by that? What was changing?
Before Sandoval could pursue the question any further, Liam stirred, bringing him out of his reverie. "What is it?"
"I'm feeling cooler now," Liam replied. "Do you think it worked?"
Sandoval picked up the thermometer and placed it in Liam's mouth. His son scowled slightly, but waited patiently until it beeped. Sandoval removed it and checked the readout. "Ninety-eight point nine," he read out loud, and removed the cloth from Liam's forehead. It was close enough...
"That's normal for me," Liam said. "Dr. Park thinks..." He stopped.
"Thinks what?" Sandoval prompted. Yes, he wanted to be careful around Liam for a while, didn't want to push him too much, but still... this involved his health. Sandoval needed to know as much as he could about that subject.
Liam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She thinks that it's because the Kimera were an energy-based race. It's not enough of a difference to be all that obvious - she says that although normal human body temperature is ninety-eight point six, there is a certain amount of variation. Not much, but enough that I fall within the normal range."
Sandoval nodded, and then glanced out the window. "Your temperature may be back to normal, but I want you to stay in for the rest of today - and tomorrow, if the rain continues. You got soaked last night, and that may be what triggered this."
Liam nodded carefully in agreement as he gingerly used his left hand to help him sit up. He wasn't sure that Sandoval's assumption was right - in fact, he had a very strong feeling that it wasn't - but it felt strangely good to let someone else take charge for a while. It wasn't something that he'd ever experienced before.
"And I want you to have some chicken broth," Sandoval continued.
Then again... there were definitely some things to be said for being in charge of himself. Liam grimaced. "I'm sick and tired of soup!"
"After two bowls five days ago?" his father countered.
"I don't like it." If he could have crossed his arms over his chest, he would have; since he couldn't, he settled for giving Sandoval his best defiant glare.
"Sulking won't work, Liam," Sandoval said firmly. "You've been sick; you will eat the broth."
"Drink it, you mean. And I'm not sulking."
His father stood up and started for the kitchen. "In that case, you're doing a remarkably good imitation. And whether you eat it or drink it, you will have the broth. Besides, I think you'll find mine a great deal more palatable than the hospital's."
Yes, there was definitely a great deal to be said for not letting other people take charge of you.
Admittedly, his father was probably right that his broth would taste better than the hospital's - after all, he was an excellent cook. However, Liam still didn't want any.
And I am not sulking!
Then Sandoval came back inside with two bowls. Despite himself, Liam felt his stomach grumble with hunger; the broth smelled good. Very good.
His father smiled - not a smug smile, but a pleased one - and Liam found his irritation disappearing with a surprising rapidity.
"I think you'll enjoy it," Sandoval said, as he put the bowls down on the table beside the couch, next to the bowl of water and the washcloth. "It's your grandmother's special recipe."
Liam knew his surprise at the comment must have been very clear on his face, but his father didn't say anything about it as he handed Liam a spoon.
"It's your grandmother's secret recipe."
This morning, Sandoval had referred to his parents as 'my mother' and 'my father'. Liam hadn't really expected anything different, even though Sandoval had obviously accepted him; to hear him call his mother 'your grandmother' was... stunning. Certainly he'd never really thought of Sandoval's parents as his grandparents - that had been reserved for Beckett's - maybe because his father's parents had died several years before he was born, and his mother's were still alive?
Absently taking a spoonful of the soup, still feeling stunned, Liam blinked. "This is good!" he exclaimed out loud.
"Of course it is," his father replied, a touch of lighthearted teasing in his voice. "After all, I made it, didn't I?"
Liam grinned in surprised response to the relaxed tone of the words. He knew Sandoval had a strong sense of humour, of course - or, at least, he'd had one before his CVI had been implanted. He'd seen a few hints of it, occasionally - when something amusing happened at a function they were both at, or the like - but this was... unusual.
"You're quiet," Sandoval commented after a few minutes.
"Just thinking," Liam replied. He took another spoonful of the broth. It really was quite good - there was absolutely no comparison with the bland hospital soup he'd endured on Monday.
"Is there anything in particular you'd like to do this afternoon, given that you're not going outside?"
Liam thought for a long moment about that. While they'd been waiting for his fever to come down, he'd made a decision - one that he wasn't going to change his mind about. Thanks to the cold water, his mind had been clear when he'd made it. If they were going to be in all afternoon, that would make it the perfect time to broach the subject...
"While I was exploring the library yesterday, I noticed some board games," he said, a bit diffidently. "Would you mind a game of Monopoly?"
His father gave him a surprising grin in response. "Sounds like a great idea to me. Once we've finished lunch, I'll get the game set up."
Andrew frowned as he studied the information his search worm had managed to collect on 'Major Kincaid'. Aside from his public and military records - of which only the past fourteen months' worth of information actually applied to the major - there was very little data available on the man.
He was credited for helping save everyone from the inter-dimensional bugs. He was mentioned in connection with the discovery of the source of Bliss, and the resolution of the hijacking of the Taelon mothership; and the much more recent disaster of Zo'or's interview with Eli Hanson. Other than those, Boone's funeral, and the recent spate of assassination attempts, the only mentions of him were in the occasional police incident reports, when he helped with a crime involving Taelons or Taelon personnel - the most recent of those involving the deaths at the Cloister - and any news reports on Da'an's appearances, where he was usually just mentioned in a side note as being present in his capacity as Da'an's Protector. The man kept a lower profile than Ron did.
Leaning back in his chair, Andrew returned his attention to the ceiling tiles as he thought carefully.
Keeping that low a profile in as high profile a job as Protector to the North American Companion implied he had things to hide.
There was the obvious, of course - the fact that he was not Liam Kincaid - but Andrew had a feeling there was much more to it than that. What had Ron said? Something about knowing some of 'Kincaid's' secrets... "...I know he's hiding quite a few things - some of which I'm unofficially aware of."
'Unofficially aware of', huh? That tends to imply that it's something Ron doesn't want the Taelons to know about, but he didn't know that the major wasn't really Liam Kincaid... which says that it's something else. Since he's been thinking of bringing 'Kincaid' into the elite... that tends to imply that he doesn't think 'Kincaid' is the devoted servant of the Taelons he appears to be, which suggests... the Resistance.
That makes sense... after all, the hacker, Augur, is associated with the Resistance. Still, even if 'Kincaid' is with the Resistance, they hate Ron... like most others, they see only the image presented to the world. So that still begs the question of why Ron has suddenly become so certain that he can trust 'Kincaid'.
Yes, his gut feelings told him that Ron was right to trust 'Kincaid', and he'd told his friend as much last Sunday, but still... while they were good, his instincts were not infallible. And he needed to know for certain whether or not 'Kincaid' could be trusted.
Andrew sighed and shook his head. The old-fashioned detective work of following the paper trail hadn't really given him anything that he hadn't already known, which meant that he was going to have to think of something else. Something that would provide him with a definite answer.
Liam grinned triumphantly as he landed on Park Place and handed his father the money to purchase the deed.
Sandoval had won the first game they'd played; they were now on the second, and Liam had a slight edge in properties. He enjoyed games like this - when he got a chance to play at all, that was - games which involved a mixture of luck and skill. It made things more challenging for him. Strategy games were reasonably easy for him - as he'd discovered when he'd beaten Da'an at foovlasha that first day - and games of chance held no real interest. It was only when skill and chance were combined - no matter what the proportion of either - that he had to work at it.
As his father gave him the deed and picked up the dice, Liam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Time to follow through with the decision he'd made earlier. It would be hard, but he had the feeling that Sandoval wouldn't really be all that surprised - at least by the topic itself. He probably would be surprised by Liam bringing it up, however...
"Can we talk?" Liam asked quietly, as Sandoval landed on Pennsylvania Railroad.
He'd been right - Sandoval's expression showed a touch of surprise for a moment. "Of course," came the reply. "What would you like to talk about?"
Another deep breath followed. "The Resistance."
Sandoval blinked. He definitely hadn't been expecting Liam to mention the Resistance... especially not with the way he'd been avoiding discussing issues that could be considered 'sensitive' - and the Resistance definitely fell under that category. However, if Liam was willing to discuss it now... "All right," he replied neutrally. "What about the Resistance?"
His son hesitated for a moment, and then plunged in. "I'm... involved with the Resistance. Fairly... deeply involved."
It was Sandoval's turn to hesitate, uncertain as to how he should respond to this statement.
Honestly, he reminded himself firmly. You promised yourself to be honest with Liam.
"I know." When Liam stared at him, Sandoval continued, "I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, Liam, but you tend to have some trouble with subtlety. I'd suspected that you were connected to the Resistance even before the crackdown." He shrugged. "After it, I was certain. And then when I found Sister Elizabeth's diary... She didn't provide too many details, but there was enough information in there to prove that you have a fairly high rank in the Resistance."
Liam winced. "I... had a feeling you knew I was involved," he admitted after a minute or two of silence. "I didn't realize that you had... that much information. I... would have thought..."
"That I would have told Zo'or?" Sandoval finished. He shook his head. "There are a number of reasons why I haven't. Some of them I want to discuss with you - later. Right now... I do have a question for you, actually."
Liam looked somewhat apprehensive. Not that that was much of a surprise; Sandoval knew that even considering the fact that he'd done nothing with his knowledge of Liam's affiliations - even before he'd discovered Liam's identity as his son - didn't necessarily mean that the rest of the Resistance was safe. But it seemed that Liam might have made the same sort of decision he had, to be completely honest.
"What is it you want to know?"
"The Resistance knows that you aren't really Kincaid, don't they."
Liam hesitated again, picking up the dice and rolling them around in his hand. "Umm... some of them. The... higher-ranking ones - the cell leaders. Some of them. Most members don't - they've only ever known me as Kincaid. That's the identity I've had since... well, always had, I guess. That's the identity I joined the Liberation under, and it didn't change when Doors started his presidential campaign and the Liberation became the Resistance."
Sandoval frowned. "What about the gap in Kincaid's records? The last thing listed before you showed up at Boone's funeral was near the end of the S.I. War. That's four years."
Liam looked puzzled, as though he didn't see where Sandoval was going with this.
"I can't see Doors trusting you just because you had the identity of Boone's second-in-command," Sandoval explained. "Especially not with the unexplained gap in his records."
"Doors has never trusted me," his son muttered sourly.
"Then how did you end up joining the Liberation? If he didn't trust you, and didn't know that you aren't-"
"Doors knows exactly who I am," Liam interrupted. "That's why he's never trusted me." He scowled.
Sandoval blinked, surprised. "He knows?"
His son nodded.
"Exactly who you are?"
Liam nodded again, and then tilted his head - the action he'd taken to substituting for a shrug. "Well, he knows about my parentage - you, Mother, and Ha'gel."
Sandoval couldn't help noticing the way Liam called Beckett 'Mother' so easily, and he remembered the way Liam had called him 'Dad' last week, when they'd had dinner on the mothership and he'd had to order Liam to eat. At the time, Sandoval had thought it was simply a teasing joke. Now, almost more than anything, he wanted to hear Liam call him 'Dad' - or even 'Father' - again.
But right now, he wanted - no, he needed - to find out more about his son's relationship with the Resistance. "That still doesn't explain how you joined the Liberation, Liam. In fact, it makes it even more incomprehensible that Doors would allow it."
Liam grimaced ruefully. "Doors didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. The way he saw it, it was either make me a member of the Liberation - and have some control over me because he was the leader of the Liberation - or let me go my own way. He didn't want that. Like I said, he's never trusted me."
Sandoval leaned back in his chair and studied his son's face. "All right... so Doors knows who you really are, and let you join the Liberation because of that. So how does he know who you are? Considering the fact that I know the two of you don't get along, I can't see why you would have told him."
The expression on Liam's face told him that he'd hit on something important. "Well..." Liam started rolling the dice around in his hand again. "HewastherewhenIwasborn," he blurted out rapidly.
It took Sandoval a minute to decipher the words, and once he had, he stared at his son in shocked surprise. "He was there when you were born?" he repeated.
Liam nodded.
"How is that possible?"
"I... was born in the Liberation headquarters. That's the other reason he ended up agreeing to let me join..."
Sandoval was stunned. He'd never even considered any of this - the only real thought he'd given to Liam's birth was wondering when it had been. He'd never really thought about the potential difficulties surrounding the birth of a hybrid child...
He was thinking about them now, however.
He had been imprisoned by the cocoon for about two to three hours - he wasn't entirely clear on exactly how long it had lasted, and his CVI was of no help, for some reason. Boone's funeral - and Liam's first public appearance - had been about forty hours later; which meant that the time between Beckett becoming pregnant with Liam and his growing to physical adulthood couldn't have been more than forty-two hours at most. Beckett could hardly have gone to a hospital - not with a pregnancy as abnormal as hers must have been...
Liam was watching him, his expression uncertain.
"How did that end up happening?" Sandoval asked after a moment's thought.
Liam carefully put the dice down in the centre of the Monopoly board. "It's... a long story," he replied slowly.
"We have plenty of time," Sandoval said calmly, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.
Liam nodded in agreement, and took a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh. "While you and Boone were hunting for Ha'gel, Mother was working on setting a trap for Lili, to show you that she was a Liberation agent," he started. "She persuaded Agent Lassiter to help her set Lili up. She went to wait outside Lili's office, and then Lassiter called Lili and, as Mother had told him to, congratulated her on the acceptance of her application to become a Companion-Protector. That's what made Mother suspicious in the first place, you know - Lili didn't want to become a Protector, and that didn't mesh with what Mother knew of her personality.
"Anyway, Lili... kind of panicked when she got Lassiter's call, and left in a hurry to go to Liberation headquarters. Mother followed her, and found the building that hid the headquarters. She looked around, found the scanner that opened the entrance to the headquarters for Liberation members, and then called you. Except instead of you, she got Ha'gel; he'd just taken you as a host."
Liam paused and worried at his lower lip for a long moment.
"What is it, Liam?"
"Ha'gel... The entire reason Ha'gel was running around Washington, rather than trying to leave Earth or otherwise escape the Taelons, was because he..." Liam paused again, swallowing nervously, and then took another deep breath. "He was being compelled by a biological imperative, as the last of his species, to reproduce. That's what he tried to do with his first host, and the dead woman that Boone found. The problem was, he didn't realize that ordinary humans couldn't handle the energy produced by a Joining, nor could an ordinary woman survive the stresses placed on her system by a part-Kimera fetus. Between the growth rate and the energy required to... ensure the fetus's survival..." Liam looked exceedingly uncomfortable as he said this last.
Reasonable enough, considering he's essentially talking about himself, Sandoval reflected, keeping his expression neutral. He didn't want Liam to stop telling him what had happened because he was embarrassed.
"Anyway, after realizing this, he got... rather worried. After all, he had this compulsion to reproduce, but he couldn't Join with an ordinary human without killing them - and one death was already one too many. So he got worried, and started trying to figure out a way that he could ensure the survival of the mother of his child. He was checking on potential sources of energy he could manipulate when the police found him.
"Then, when he took the police officer as a host, he found out about you and Boone, and the CVIs. The officer didn't know much about them, but he did know that the CVIs let you control the skrills. That let Ha'gel know that they modified human physiology to allow you to handle energy in a way that ordinary humans can't. Between that, and the fact that the skrills made you and Boone a more serious threat to him than the police, he decided that he should take one of you as a host. And since you were supervising the police search at the time, he called you." Liam tilted his head in a shrug.
"Ha'gel had just finished putting you in the cocoon when Mother called your global. He'd already determined that the CVI provided enough alterations to your physiology that you - and therefore, presumably, any female Protectors - would be able to handle the energy of a Joining. So when Mother called to let you know that she'd found a Liberation hideout, Ha'gel realized that she would make an excellent mate. He told her to wait for him before doing anything, and headed over.
"By this time, Doors and the Liberation personnel at their headquarters knew that Mother was there, and that she'd found the scanner. They were monitoring her carefully, and were ready to kill her if she discovered the actual entrance to the headquarters. They also called Boone, hoping that he would be able to come up with some plan to handle the situation.
"Boone got there just as Ha'gel... initiated the Joining. Mother was willing to have a child - she desperately wanted children of her own - and Ha'gel managed to interfere with her motivational imperative enough to ensure that she wouldn't turn either me or herself over to the Taelons. He couldn't destroy it..." Liam bit his lip and looked down at the floor. "He didn't have the chance. Boone and Lili were both watching, and as soon as the Joining ended, Ha'gel saw Boone. He didn't realize that Boone was part of the Liberation - I'm not sure what he might have done if he had - but since he thought that Boone was working for the Taelons, he knew he had to protect Mother... and me. So he attacked Boone.
"Lili got Mother out of the way of the fight and brought her into the headquarters. I think Ha'gel recognized that she was Liberation, and so let her take Mother, but I don't know for certain... Doors didn't like that at all, but didn't have much of a chance to object. Then the police showed up, Ha'gel fired at Boone, and the police lieutenant shot Ha'gel."
Sandoval blinked. "Liberation headquarters was at St. Michael's Church?" he exclaimed, too startled by that revelation to maintain his silence.
"It was," Liam replied. "When Doors started the presidential campaign, it was moved."
That didn't surprise Sandoval all that much. He doubted that Liam would have let him know that much about the former Liberation headquarters if the Resistance had still been there. "So what happened next?" he prompted.
"Well, Mother was unconscious - her body was able to handle the energy, but it was still a huge shock to her system, not to mention the fact that she was suddenly pregnant. There was a full medical facility in the headquarters - necessary to treat any wounded, of course - and one of the Liberation's doctors happened to be there at the time. They didn't know what Ha'gel had done, so they examined Mother - and found out that she was pregnant with me.
"The pregnancy lasted nine hours - about one hour for every month of a normal human pregnancy. Doors evacuated the headquarters; no one had any idea what I would be like, or whether or not I'd be dangerous - except Mother, and she was unconscious for most of the time, until just before I was born - and only a few people stayed, including the doctor, Doors, and Lili.
"Anyway, I spent about three minutes, I think, as an infant, before growing to about four years old. I stayed at that physical age for another hour or so - long enough for the doctor to run some tests, and for me to put together a few puzzles - before reaching my current physical age."
Sandoval nodded slowly. Only an hour or so spent as a child... it was practically inconceivable. It left him with a great deal to think about, and the feeling that it might be a good idea to change the subject slightly, to one a bit less serious. "So the pictures..."
That prompted a faint smile from his son. "Are stills from the security cameras. I thought..." He fidgeted slightly. "I thought you might like to have them. You... While you were in the hospital, you talked to me about pictures, so..."
Sandoval returned the smile. "I can't take them into work, of course, but they're sitting on my desk in my study at home." He hadn't realized until he'd opened his official present from Liam just how much attention the younger man had paid to what he'd said while he was in the hospital. At the time, he'd been extremely surprised. Now, looking back, he realized that it had been one of the first truly honest conversations he'd had with his son; no wonder Liam had remembered it!
Then, as he looked up, he caught sight of the clock on the wall. "It's time for me to start making dinner."
"Not soup!" Liam said vehemently.
Sandoval fought back a grin. If he started to forget that Liam was - in some ways, at least - still a child, all he would have to do would be to remember the sulking fit Liam had thrown earlier over having soup for lunch. It had been an exceedingly childish reaction to a sensible decision. "Actually, I was thinking that we might have stew," he replied.
Liam thought for a moment, then nodded. "That sounds okay," he decided.
"All right, stew it is. We can finish the game after dinner, if you want," Sandoval added as he stood up, gesturing to the Monopoly board.
"Just remember it's my turn," Liam said, as Sandoval headed for the kitchen.
"No fear of that," Sandoval tossed over his shoulder, and then focused his attention on getting everything together for the stew.
Liam curled up on the couch, looking at the flames in the fireplace. The fire had gone out during the couple of hours when he'd been feverish, but his father had re-started it again after lunch, saying that staying inside on a rainy day with a fire going was cozy, part of the whole vacation experience.
He hadn't really meant to go into quite as much detail as he had about the circumstances surrounding his birth. What he'd really meant to do was explain to his father that he was the leader of the Resistance - but they'd gotten sidetracked by Sandoval's curiosity about how he'd joined in the first place. He had intended to mention the fact that he'd been born in the Liberation headquarters, but not everything else...
What puzzled him was how much he had been able to tell Sandoval about what had happened. He'd known some of the general facts, of course, but he hadn't remembered the details of Ha'gel's decisions.
Or rather, he hadn't been able to access those particular memories. And yet, while telling his father about it, he'd just known...
Turning his hands up so that he could see his palms, he studied the marks of his shaqarava for a long moment. The faint reddish diamond shapes were nearly invisible against the skin of his palm - the only way someone would see them would be if they knew to look - but to him they were obvious.
He'd spent the first half of his life so far with his shaqarava flaring up at the slightest provocation; the second half thinking that they were completely gone. Finding out otherwise last week had - Admit it, Liam... - scared him - badly. It meant that he'd been completely wrong when he'd thought that he was becoming more human.
All right... so I'm not becoming more human. Fact. I seem to be starting to access genetic memories that I couldn't before - some of them without even realizing I'm doing it. Fact. I had a very nasty fever for a very short time, when I've never had a fever before. Fact. My shaqarava were storing - or perhaps damming up - extra energy, causing pain. Fact. I've started having visions again. Fact. Liam frowned down at his hands. I'm healing at a much faster rate than I have before. Fact. The medical scan Dr. Park did on Sunday shows a definite difference from the one done last Wednesday. Fact.
Okay, Liam - the next question is: what do all these facts add up to?
Da'an walked into the small medical lab and glanced around. The human doctor that Agent Sandoval had brought in was at the far end of the room, his attention focused on a monitor. Mit'gai was standing at one of the lab tables, examining something. Walking over to the healer, Da'an waited patiently to be noticed.
"Da'an," Mit'gai acknowledged, after a minute or two.
"I apologize for interrupting your work," Da'an said quietly, his gestures adding emphasis to the apology, "but Zo'or informed me that you expect this new drug you are working on to be ready for testing in five days."
"That is correct," Mit'gai confirmed.
"How long after that do you anticipate being able to interrogate the prisoner?" Da'an continued, as two Volunteers walked in, pushing a cart with equipment on top.
"After our tests begin - perhaps five or six days," Mit'gai replied.
Meaning that Liam will still be on vacation, Da'an reflected. Good. "Thank you," he murmured to Mit'gai, and turned to leave.
"You sound... impatient, Da'an," Mit'gai commented, his own gestures reflecting disapproval as Da'an turned back to face him.
In response, Da'an made a gesture indicating rightful cause, and calmly replied, "It was my Protector who was threatened. I merely wish to ensure that justice is done as quickly as possible." With that, he left.
Liam stood up and started pacing, pausing now and again to look out the window at the forest outside. He always thought better when he was moving around - another trait he'd inherited from Sandoval.
Only one thing was certain: he was changing.
Okay... so is this something that is supposed to happen, something... 'natural' for me? Or has something gone wrong? he wondered. And how am I supposed to know which?
A sudden crash of thunder startled him out of his thoughts, and Liam jumped in surprise - and then automatically winced as his shoulder protested at the jarring move. Peering out the window, he blinked in surprise at the sheets of rain cascading down. He hadn't realized until just now that the intermittent rain from earlier had become a full-blown storm.
Sandoval, Liam remembered absently, as he sat back down on the couch and continued to stare outside, had always loved storms. He'd loved the power of the lightning and thunder, the noise of the rain, and - perhaps most importantly - sitting in a warm, cozy room, watching the storm through the windows.
It was something Liam had never had a chance to do before, and he let it distract him from his worries for a short time.
It only worked for a few minutes, however. By the time Sandoval came back in, carrying a tray with two bowls of delicious-smelling stew, he was back to worrying about what the changes he was going through would mean, and whether or not they were supposed to happen to him. The greater access he had to Ha'gel's memories didn't include an answer to that - at least, not yet.
"You look worried," Sandoval commented, frowning slightly as he put the tray down on the table beside the game board. "What's wrong?"
Liam worried at his lower lip for a moment. I can't tell him. Not yet, at least. But I've got to tell him something...
"Liam?" his father prodded.
So what should I say? What else could I be worried about, that will still let me tell him the truth - just not this truth?
Abruptly, the answer occurred to him. He had intended to tell Sandoval about it, after all...
"Um... you said that Sister Elizabeth's diary mentioned that I... that I'm a high-ranking member of the Resistance," he offered hesitantly.
"Yes," Sandoval answered, sitting down on his chair and handing Liam a spoon for the stew. "Eat up," he ordered.
Liam took one of the bowls from the tray, but didn't start eating yet. "Did it mention... um... how high-ranking I am?"
Sandoval studied his son's face carefully for a moment. He hadn't been fooled by Liam's implication that he'd been worried about discussing his rank in the Resistance - he would have been more nervous about bringing the topic up earlier this afternoon if it was that. However, he had the feeling that the reason Liam had decided to re-direct the conversation was because whatever the real problem was touched on one of those still-forbidden subjects, so he decided to let it go for the moment.
"No," he replied, in answer to his son's question. "There were no specifics in the diary - just general information. Based on everything I know, I assume that you are - at the very least - the leader of the Washington DC cell."
He could tell from the confusion on Liam's face that his son still didn't understand why he hadn't turned him over to the Taelons when he'd first found out, but it wasn't time to explain yet. Instead, Sandoval simply raised one eyebrow in inquiry.
Liam hesitated for another moment, then took a deep breath. "At the least..." he confirmed. "I..." He sighed heavily. "I'm... uh... the leader of the entire Resistance."
Sandoval blinked, honestly surprised.
Oh, he'd known that it was a possibility - the knowledge of how many times Liam had interfered with the Taelons' agenda combined with the information in Sister Elizabeth's diary had assured him of that - but he still hadn't really believed it. And he'd believed it even less since he'd found out who Liam really was, knowing Doors' xenophobia.
"If you don't mind me asking... how did that happen?" Sandoval asked. "After all, you said yourself that Doors doesn't trust you..."
Liam fidgeted, playing with his spoon. "It... Let's just say it wasn't Doors' decision to make," he replied carefully. "He wasn't very happy about it, all things considered..."
"Well, I can understand that," Sandoval said. Then he frowned, looking pointedly at Liam's still-full bowl. "You can eat while we're talking, Liam," he added.
Liam's expression was somewhat wary, but he obediently took a mouthful of stew.
"After all," Sandoval continued, before Liam could respond to his statement, "aside from his xenophobia and paranoia, Doors is a control freak."
The comment caught Liam mid-swallow, and he almost choked trying not to laugh.
Sandoval let a faint smile cross his own face. "I'm sure you agree with me."
"Uh, yeah," Liam said, after he managed to get his reaction under control. "But... hearing you, of all people, calling Doors a control freak... It's more than a little weird. Almost surreal, in fact."
"Are you insinuating that I am a control freak?" Sandoval demanded in mock-irritation.
For a moment, as Liam stared at him, wide-eyed, he was afraid he'd gone too far - afraid that Liam didn't realize he was teasing. Less than a second later, however, his son started laughing, and Sandoval's tension eased.
"Not... insinuating," Liam gasped out between chuckles, "saying."
"Hmph," Sandoval snorted, trying to look offended - but judging from the fact that Liam simply started laughing harder, he didn't think he'd managed to succeed. "I'll have you know that compared to Jonathan Doors, I am a model for the delegation of authority."
This only seemed to encourage Liam's laughter, and Sandoval silently congratulated himself. Whatever had been bothering Liam before dinner, he appeared to have forgotten about it for the moment, thanks to their conversation.
Pretending to ignore him, Sandoval returned to eating his own dinner, but he kept a careful eye on his son as Liam slowly regained control, making sure that the bout of laughter hadn't hurt his shoulder.
"But yes, 'control freak' definitely describes Doors," Liam continued, once he'd got his control back. "And the fact that... I replaced him definitely increased his dislike of me."
Sandoval nodded in understanding. "Unfortunately, that's simply how Doors is," he agreed. Leaning back in his chair, he put his empty bowl back down on the tray and studied his son surreptitiously.
Should I push? he wondered. He'd managed to get Liam to relax, thanks to the teasing, and he didn't want to ruin that; however, at the same time, he really wanted - needed - to know what had been troubling his son earlier.
No, he decided a moment later. At least - not about that. On the other hand... I would like to get some of my questions answered...
While he'd been preparing the stew, Sandoval had found himself thinking about the details Liam had given him about his conception and birth - and he'd run into something that had been puzzling him since Sunday morning, before he'd even figured out that Liam was his son.
Somehow, Liam seemed to know more than he should... about all sorts of things. Sandoval's taste in food; Beckett's investigation into Lili - which even she hadn't remembered; Ha'gel's thoughts and motivations - when Ha'gel had died before Liam had been born... It all added up to knowledge that Liam shouldn't have had, things that they hadn't - or couldn't have - told him.
As Liam put his own bowl down, Sandoval made his decision.
"Shall we continue?" his father asked, gesturing to the Monopoly board. "And yes," he added, "I know it's your turn."
"All right," Liam agreed, picking the dice up in his left hand and shaking them. Rolling them, he grinned as he moved his piece past 'Go' and held out his hand for the two hundred dollars.
Sandoval looked amused as he handed the money over and then took his own turn. As he finished moving his piece, however, his expression sobered somewhat. "Liam, I... have some questions I'd like to ask concerning what we were talking about before dinner."
Before dinner? Liam wondered, surprised. He would have thought most of Sandoval's questions would concern the fact that he was the leader of the Resistance. I wonder what they're about? "Okay," he said out loud.
"How did you know Sio- your mother had Agent Lassiter bait her trap for Captain Marquette?" his father asked. "She didn't remember, and Agent Lassiter never filed a report on it."
Liam blinked, and focused his attention on taking his turn while he tried to work out where Sandoval was going with this, and what his answer should be.
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Liam," his father added. "I'm just wondering how you knew."
Suddenly realizing he'd been fidgeting, Liam forced himself to sit still and think.
Lying to Sandoval about himself was an option he'd discarded back when he had first made the decision to work on building a relationship with his father, just after Sandoval had gotten out of the hospital. The only way he and Sandoval would be able to build a real father/son relationship would be for them to trust each other; and that trust could only be developed through complete honesty. He had the feeling his father had made a decision much like it - why else would he have told Liam what he had done to Lili?
The point was, Liam knew his only real choices were to either not answer the question, or tell the truth.
I'm going to have to tell him the truth at some point, Liam thought. Considering how long he's worked for the Taelons, and how much he knows about them in the first place, he might even figure it out himself, sooner or later. It would definitely be better for me to tell him.
Wishing he didn't sound as though he was trying to convince himself, Liam looked back up to meet his father's eyes. Sandoval met his gaze evenly, giving every evidence of patience and willingness to wait; it was strange to see those particular emotions on his face.
"It's... a bit of a complicated story," Liam said hesitantly. "I mean, I know how Dr. Park explained it to Doors, but I don't know exactly how to explain it from my point of view."
"Take your time," his father advised. "If I don't understand, I'll let you know."
Liam nodded slowly, and took a deep breath. "You know that the Taelons have genetic memories, right? They remember everything their parents knew and experienced?"
"Yes," Sandoval replied.
Liam took another deep breath. He had no idea how Sandoval would react to finding out that Liam had all his memories, up to the point Ha'gel had taken him as a host. It was, however, too late to change his mind now. "Well, it was - the genetic memories, that is - something they inherited from the Kimera."
Sandoval met his eyes. "Meaning that you also have genetic memories," he inferred. His tone and expression were both calm, but not his mask, and Liam felt a touch of relief.
"Yes," he replied. "I can't access them all, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to. I've been able to access the essential ones - the ones that let me function as a Companion-Protector and leader of the Resistance - since shortly after I was born; the others seem to show up at need, or not at all."
"Well, that would explain how you know my taste in food," his father commented; and Liam blinked in surprise, before remembering his suggestion of souvlaki last Saturday, and the omelette he'd made Sandoval Sunday morning.
He nodded in agreement.
"So, you have all our memories?" Sandoval continued.
"From you and Ha'gel, up to the end of the Joining," Liam replied. "Anything I know from after that," he tilted his head slightly, "has only been through observing you."
Sandoval nodded, and then gave him a strange look - curiosity mingled with sympathy? "What about your mother?" he asked quietly.
"I have hers up until..." Liam hesitated.
"Go on," Sandoval urged him gently.
"...Up until I was born," Liam finished carefully. Glancing down at his hands, his eyes caught on his shaqarava, and he found himself recalling the day ten months ago when she had died. "And also," he murmured, still staring at his shaqarava and barely aware he was speaking, "what she gave me when I Shared with her, just before-" He broke off, unable to continue.
"Shared?" Sandoval asked, his voice still quiet and gentle.
"After I was born, Doors ordered a Liberation doctor to reprogram her CVI so that she wouldn't remember anything - and so that if she did, it would kill her," Liam explained distantly, keeping himself calm through an immense effort of will. This was the first time he'd ever spoken of what the Liberation had done to Beckett with someone who hadn't been there at the time, and he was finding it surprisingly difficult. Almost more difficult than hearing his father tell him what had been done to Lili. He couldn't pull his gaze away from his shaqarava as he continued, "She did recognize me, somehow, as someone she should know - you saw that - but she didn't remember who I was to her, and I couldn't tell her. Not when it would have meant her death.
"By the time I got to the cave where she was," Liam went on, remembering that awful day again, "her CVI had already done too much damage." He could feel tears starting to build, and swallowed them back. Despite the strides he and Sandoval had made over the past few days, Liam still didn't feel very comfortable with the idea of opening up to him that much. "She said her only regret was that she'd never had any children... so I Shared with her, let her know the truth."
"Good," Sandoval said; his voice was still quiet as he studied his son's face. He could tell that Liam was getting upset - not that it was a surprise, considering the stress of the day and the current topic of conversation - but he wasn't entirely sure how to make it better, or even if he could do so. It didn't help that he also felt upset by the memory of Siobhan's death, and absolutely, utterly furious with Jonathan Doors for what he'd done to both Siobhan and Liam. He was beginning to suspect that Doors was at least one of the people - if not the person - who had made Liam believe that being part-Kimera was something to be ashamed of.
Just at the moment, however, he was more concerned with helping Liam than in getting upset with Doors, so he focused his attention on his son.
Liam was staring blankly down at his hands; Sandoval wasn't sure if he even realized he'd been talking out loud.
So, how can I help? he wondered, an unusual sense of frustration niggling at him. I want to do something, but we're still working on developing our relationship. I have no idea how to handle this!
Think, Ron! If your father were here, what would he do?
Well, that was easy enough to answer. And perhaps it would be the best way...
Standing up, he walked over to the couch and gripped Liam's left arm, gently but firmly at the same time.
Liam started in surprise and looked up at him; and Sandoval's rage - at both Doors and the Taelons, for what they'd done to Siobhan, and through her to Liam - increased at the gleam of unshed tears in his son's eyes. He pushed it back down, however, and did his best to speak in the gentle tone he'd noticed Liam seemed to respond best to.
"I know it's not terribly late, Liam," he said carefully, "but you've had a long, very full day, and a stressful one at that. Why don't you head up to bed, and I'll bring you up a cup of green tea? Your grandfather always swore it was the best thing for relaxing after a hard day." Of course, he probably knows that, since he has my memories, Sandoval realized, as Liam's expression went distant for a moment - the same way it had when he'd mentioned the arguments he'd had with his father and the Saturday cooking lessons - but that doesn't mean that he shouldn't hear it from me anyway.
"'Kay," Liam murmured softly, and let Sandoval help him up.
"Now, go lie down," Sandoval ordered, giving him a gentle push in the direction of the hall. "I'll be up in about five minutes with your tea."
Liam nodded in acknowledgement, then walked into the hall and slowly up the stairs as Sandoval headed into the kitchen.
It was a matter of minutes for him to make the tea - he could have done it in his sleep - and shortly afterwards Sandoval knocked quietly on the door of Liam's room.
"I'm still awake," came Liam's mumble.
Pushing the door open, Sandoval walked in and handed one of the two cups he was carrying to Liam, then sat down in the chair next to the bed.
Liam carefully sniffed the steam rising from the cup, and Sandoval was surprised to see a small smile cross his face. "It smells good," he murmured.
"I've added a bit of honey," Sandoval explained. "A bit of sweetness never hurts, I've found."
Liam took a small sip, and the smile widened. "Tastes good too." Then he looked at Sandoval. "We didn't finish the game," he said quietly.
Sandoval had no idea what that had to do with anything, but it was a fairly safe neutral subject. He shrugged, and replied, "Then we'll just have to finish it tomorrow. And perhaps once I've had some sleep, I can regain some of my losses."
He got a snicker in response. "I wouldn't count on it - after all, I'll have slept as well," his son pointed out.
"Indeed. Well, we'll have to wait and see, I suppose. What would you like for breakfast?"
Liam thought for a moment. "Could we do pancakes again?"
"Why not?" Sandoval returned. "Sounds good to me." He stood up. "Now, finish your tea and get to sleep - or I really will recoup all my losses."
"Right," Liam said, his tone snarky - but he obediently took another sip of tea.
Sandoval stopped in the doorway for a moment and looked back. "Good night, Liam," he said quietly.
"Li'assa, Va'nei," Liam replied absently; his attention seemed to be focused on his teacup.
Puzzled at yet another use of the word 'va'nei', not to mention Liam's slip into the Kimera language, Sandoval nonetheless didn't say anything; he simply closed the door quietly and headed off to his own bedroom.
