It's the continuation of chapter 9. It was divided into two parts due to its length.

The following day Red had no other choice but to take the boy to the office with him. He told Donald to wait in his office while he hurried to the staff meeting.

At the end of the meeting he said that he had to take some time off and that he would prefer to work at a different department for a while, work less and especially travel less. Of course, the Admiral asked about the reason, and Red had to explain the situation to him while everyone in the room was listening and staring at him. He felt terrible.

"Any woman can tell you that you are the father of any child," the Admiral said, looking displeased.

"I'm sure she is telling the truth," Red replied.

"How sure?"

"Ninety percent. The time matches, the story matches, the genes-it's the red line of the family..."

"You have a red line in your family, Red?" A Lieutenant Commander he had never liked joked.

"You should sue her," the Admiral advised him. "She can't simply decide that you are in charge now."

"Right at the moment I am in charge," Red retorted, more sharply than intended. "I need to find a school, a nanny, need to buy some stuff... I can't do this while working full time on this project. And who will pay the bill if I sue her?" He added, facing the Admiral, feeling anger and defiance. Who is he that he thinks he could tell me what to do? "Right. The boy will. He's just been left by his mom. He doesn't know me at all. He's confused, scared, and homesick. The last thing he needs is foster care and someone with doubts."

"But you as a father..." The Lieutenant Commander shook his head.

Red could see the doubt on all of the faces around him. He was known as aloof, arrogant, and cynical, all attributes he used to hide his insecurity. "Well, I guess, I have to change." He gathered his things and rushed out of the room.

When he returned to his office, Donald's gaze met his, the one that made him shiver because it was filled with fear, pain, and distrust. "We can go for lunch now," he said softly, "and afterwards we are going to find a school for you, all right?"

"A boarding school?" Donald asked. More distrust, more fear.

"Hell, no. A normal primary school, somewhere close to my house." Red suppressed his impatience. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. He reached out, and the boy hurried to get to his side and take his hand. As if he is scared I would leave him here. It hurt. But why should he expect me to be any different than Nicole?

At the corridor Donald stopped because he couldn't close his jacket with one hand. A second later he looked up at Red, anxiously and full of bad conscience. "Sorry for causing trouble," he whispered.

Red tried to forget his colleagues-the corridor was crowded-and knelt down in front of the boy, helping him to close the jacket. "You don't cause any trouble," he assured him. "Or, to be honest you do," he corrected himself, "but that's your right. That's your job as a child," he joked, "children do cause trouble because they need to be protected, helped, and loved. And it's my job to protect you, help you, love you, and take care of you because it's my responsibility. So, don't be afraid of causing trouble, okay?"

Donald didn't seem convinced at all, instead he looked as if he couldn't hold back his tears any longer. Not here, Red thought in despair, glancing around and seeing that everyone was watching them, even though they tried not to show it. With a sigh he decided to ignore it, pulled the boy into his arms and caressed his head.

But obviously, this wasn't right, either, because Donald backed off, shocked, trying to wipe the tears away. "I'll stop it at once," he promised.

"It's okay," Red assured him.

"Eddie doesn't like it."

"Well, Eddie is a bloody damn asshole!" Red shouted out loud. He would have loved to strangle Nicole's boyfriend with his bare hands.

Donald looked at him in surprise, his eyes shimmering with tears.

"The situation you are in is awkward," Red explained, more softly now. "You mom has just left you with a guy you have never seen in your life before. You have every right to cry."

It seemed a new concept to Donald. It made him think and stop crying. "She's not coming back this time, is she?" He finally asked.

Red sighed. "It isn't the first time she left you somewhere?"

Donald didn't answer directly, "I often thought she wouldn't come back, but she always did. But not this time, right?"

"I doubt she will come back any time soon." Red caressed the boy's cheeks. "Look, I'm not equipped for a child. But I will try," he promised, "I will try to find solutions for this situation, I will try to be a good father for you. I won't send you anywhere, leave you anywhere, or hurt you. But I guess you have to be patient with me. I'll have to get used to it; I have to learn a lot. Will you help me?"

Donald thought about it for a while, before he finally nodded. And all this under the stern eyes of the Admiral who was standing at the end of the corridor, pretending to talk to someone. Red sighed again, got up, picked the boy up, placed him on his hip, and carried him to the elevator, ignoring the whispers and looks. *)

It took Red about three weeks to realize what kind of ghost he was really facing. He suggested they go on a hike through the woods, taking a picnic with them. Of course, he had thought Donald might like this idea, but the boy looked at him in sheer horror, whispering, "Are you going to leave me there?"

Red starred at him in confusion, "Why the hell would I do that?" Then, a terrible thought crossed his mind, so terrible that he almost didn't dare to speak it out loud, "Did they do that? Nicole and Eddie? Did they go on a hike with you and then leave you behind?"

The boy just sighed, and it seemed he wouldn't answer, but finally he said, "They were too fast. When I reached the end of the road, they were already getting on the bus, and it drove off."

For a second Red was speechless. "How did you get home?"

"I waited for the next bus," Donald replied as if he was used to finding himself in situations like these, "I couldn't remember the name of the station, but the bus driver and some passengers helped me to figure it out."

Red tried to picture the scene, and it almost made him cry. He must have been awfully scared and hurt. "What did Nicole and Eddie do when you came home?"

The boy's face got that withdrawn look Red had noticed a few times. It always appeared when he was asking questions Donald obviously didn't want to answer. "They were busy with themselves," he replied monosyllabically.

I don't think I want to know what that means. "How old were you?"

Donald shrugged. "Five?"

"It wasn't the first nor the last time, right?"

Donald hesitated before he finally nodded. "Right."

He wasn't shocked or surprised when she left him with me, Red realized, he was just shocked that there wasn't any way back for him this time. "Listen," he said and gently stroked the boy's arms, "I promise I'll never go anywhere without telling you before. I'll never leave you with anyone you don't know, or at a place you don't know, especially not alone. I promise I'll always come back."

Donald didn't seem convinced. Probably, Nicole had made this promise a few times whenever she had a bad conscience, just to renege it a little later. The ghost Red was facing was the constant abuse of the natural trust a child had in its parents.

It took Red about two years before Donald would stop being afraid that he would leave him at someone's doorstep, at a supermarket, or at any other place. Before he stopped asking him if he was really coming back-from the office, from the grocery, and especially from a journey.

He formed the habit of telling Donald exactly what he was going to do, where, when, how long it would take, and who he would meet with. He showed him every place he used to go to, so the boy could visualize where he would be. He was always in a hurry now so as to never be late. Not one time, not a minute.

Even when Donald finally stopped clenching his hand, his jacket, or his belt, Red would have the feeling that the little hand was there, scared of losing touch and getting lost.

It took him days to get the first little smile, weeks before the boy would enjoy anything, months before he felt at home.

Sitting here today on the sofa, his legs stretched out on the armchair, with Donald fast asleep on his chest, Red remembered the first time he had managed to make the boy laugh.

On his way to his car somewhere downtown he had come by a sign offering yoga lessons, and, following a sudden impulse, he went inside and told the strange yoga-guru the whole story. The old, white-haired man sat cross-legged opposite him and listened to his doubts and fears without interrupting him.

"It's like he's frozen. He's scared to move, to say anything, to touch anything in fear he might break it accidentally." It seemed as if Red had talked for hours about all the things he had noticed and learned, before he finally asked, "Can you help us?"

Later, during their first yoga lesson Red cursed himself for this idea. He had never liked sports, he even had difficulties sitting cross-legged, and now he was trying to form strange figures with his body, using muscles he didn't know he had at all. It obviously looked so funny that Donald started laughing, and couldn't stop, although he was visibly appalled at his own behavior. But Red didn't want him to stop, and made even more contorted movements, rubber-faced, so Donald finally forgot about being ashamed of laughing.

I made a fool out of myself, just for you, he thought now and caressed Donald's hair carefully, not wanting to wake him up. And that was worse than dying for you would be. He had been so uptight back then, full of self-consciousness and inferiority complexes that it had been hard for him to change.

In the later years, Red thought he had fought back that fear, and he was horrified when he realized that it was still there, somewhere deep inside the boy. It became clear to him when Donald was fourteen or fifteen.

Donald had told him he would spend the night at a friend's house. Instead, he went to a beach party. The police arrested the whole bunch of teenagers because of too much alcohol, drugs, and noise, and Red had to pick up his son in the middle of the night at the police station. He was angry with him and didn't talk to him on the way home.

In the early morning he woke up when Donald sat down on the edge of his bed.

"You are really mad at me, aren't you?"

"Of course," Red replied. "You lied to me."

"You would have said no."

"That's no excuse."

"Will you give me away now?" There it was again, that look. Fear, pain, distrust, close to tears. It pierced right through him and caused a terrible pain. He realized that it would always be there. Nicole had implanted it in Donald in his early childhood, and there was obviously nothing Red could do to get rid of it. I guess, not even dying would help.

He didn't tell him when he found out that Nicole had committed suicide only three years after she had left Donald at his door. It would have been okay to tell him that she was dead, but he didn't dare tell him that she had finally left Eddie but not to join her son. She hadn't loved him enough to stay alive. Telling Don would just have made things worse.

He didn't say anything when Donald hesitated to move to his own apartment or even to live on a college campus, although he had a long ride every day. He never tried to push him into a committed relationship, although he sometimes felt sorry for the girls Donald brought home with him. The only one who could fight this fear of being left was Donald himself.

But probably it's impossible for him, Red thought now, feeling sad and guilty. He knew that Liz mainly left because of him. He could try to find her and tell her the truth. On the other hand, the success would have been vague, the situation forced.

He sighed and looked at his son's face. It was like on the first day they met, and for a moment it felt as if nothing had ever changed.

*) Yeah, I was thinking of "Boston Legal" when I wrote this scene. ;)

I promise I'll try to post the final chapter as soon as possible.

Many thanks to my beta reader, padria95 :)