Chapter 10

Jeff had never been so happy to sit through a debriefing in his life. As exhausted as he was, the familiar surroundings and faces of VHQ brought him comfort and energized him. Phineas had wanted to wait and let him get cleaned up and fed first, but Jeff wanted to put this ordeal behind him as quickly as possible. He struggled in the telling of Drake's fall and rescue, and became more withdrawn the closer he got to the end of the story. None of this went unnoticed by Garth or Brindle, and it was decided that they would wait until the following day to continue.

Phineas had been given a small apartment for his stay and once in the safety of their 'own home,' they both made a beeline for the bedroom.

"Finally, some peace and quiet," Jeff said as he flopped down on one of the two queen-sized beds in Bogg's room. He stared at the ceiling, hands behind his head and sighed loudly as he let himself ooze into the mattress.

There were so many things Phineas wanted to say and ask Jeff now that it was just the two of them, but he didn't know where to start. He also knew that emotionally Jeff was holding back, trying to be strong in spite of all he went through. As much as he wanted to help he knew he had to wait for Jeff to share on his own terms. Feeling frustrated, Bogg ran both hands down his face and exhaled so forcefully that his lips smacked together, startling both men and they laughed.

"You sound like a horse," Jeff chuckled.

Phineas rolled onto his side and glared back at him with a familiar twinkle in his eye. "Ha ha, funny kid."

They lapsed back into silence, neither knowing what to say to the other. They could hear the soft tinkling of a wind chime just outside their bedroom window, the melodic tones lulling them into a peaceful rest. When Jeff rolled onto his right side almost two hours later he was instantly awake with a surprised gasp of pain.

Phineas startled awake. "What's wrong Jeff? You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied as he pressed his hand to his side, "but I think you bruised a rib earlier when you hugged me outside my tent."

Each remembered seeing the other for the first time as Jeff emerged from his tent with Olivia. They both stopped and stared for just a moment and then Bogg ran over and grabbed Jeff in a bear hug. After what could very properly be called the single longest week of his life Jeff had relished the crushing embrace of his best friend and mentor, even if he was a tad over-zealous.

"Do you blame me," Phineas asked. "I hadn't seen you in over a month! I guess I got a little carried away, sorry."

"A month? I was only there for a week."

"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey..."

"What?"

Phineas shook his head with a small smile. "Nevermind. Time travel will never make sense to me, even though the good Doctor Smith gave it his best shot. Just trust me when I tell you that I went to Amsterdam with the Olympic team and watched Georgia win a silver and a bronze medal before Chang and Dunphy pulled me out."

Jeff swung around to sit on the edge of the bed as his face lit up. "She won two medals?"

"Yeah, and let me tell you kid, she's the real McCoy." Jeff smiled at the colloquialism his friend used so naturally as Bogg continued. "Betty won the gold on the ten meter board and Georgia got silver, and then we swept the three meter with Elizabeth taking the gold, Dorothy silver and Georgia bronze!"

"Yeah! All right," Jeff cheered and bounced on the edge of the bed and sucked in his breath as his side ached again. His smile turned wistful a moment later. "I wish I'd been there to see it."

"Me too kid. Me too."

"So, what are we waiting for? We can go back, I can hide in the crowd and then surprise her!"

"No."

"Then let's go to the 1932 Olympics and watch her-"

"Jeff, we can't-"

"Whadaya mean 'we can't?' C'mon Bogg, I've gotta tell her how I feel about her."

"She won't remember you."

In the split second it took to open his mouth and start to reply, Jeff remembered how quickly Drake had disappeared from the collective memory of Herr Meyer's caravan, and his indignant response came out as a strangled gasp.

The confused, shattered and heartbroken look on his friends face was almost too much for Phineas to bear. "I'm so sorry Jeff."

"Is this what it felt like to lose Mabel?"

The question caught Phineas by surprise. Being forgotten by the women he cared about was one thing, but giving up the woman he loved for History's sake...

The look on his face was answer enough for Jeff. "Well," he said brusquely, "are you gonna make me look up her history or do you know how her life went?"

Phineas cleared his throat. "Well, she won a gold and silver medal in the 1932 Olympics in LA and got engaged to Mickey, but they never married. She considered going pro but then decided not to. She won dozens of titles and was loved by everyone. You know how competitive she was, right? Well, Georgia was the first woman to complete a two and a half forward somersault in competition, and boy did she wow them! But then in 1937, she contracted polio."

"No." Jeff paled at the word and sat down hard on the bed, making the springs protest. Phineas took a deep breath and finished her tale.

"Swimming pools were thought to be one of the great carriers of the disease, you know. But she fought back and she fought hard. It was swimming that helped her regain the use of her arms and legs. She inspired so many people, Jeff! She would not let polio beat her, and it didn't. Georgia wanted to walk, swim and run again, and she won that battle. But she didn't win the war."

"What do you mean, 'she didn't win the war,' Bogg? You said she beat polio!"

Bogg started to pace. "Well, the polio caused other medical problems for her over the years. She developed a chronic liver problem, and she contracted pneumonia. Her body just couldn't handle the stress and she died in 1940."

As he was talking, Bogg had picked up some papers from the nightstand beside his bed. He now sat down beside Jeff and held them out for his friend to see.

"I um, took the liberty of printing out her obituary. They got some facts out of order but still..."

Holding the paper loosely, Jeff tried to focus on the words in front of him through the fog of tears.

The Bakersfield Californian. September 16th, 1940

GEORGIA COLEMAN DIES OF ILLNESS

LOS ANGELES, Sept. 16-

The sports world today mourned the loss of one of its most colorful figures in the death Saturday of Georgia Coleman, former Olympic diving champion.

For seven years her name was almost a household word and her graceful body, usually in a glowing red diving suit, was a part of every important water meet. No person who competed in the 1928 Olympic games at Amsterdam and in the 1932 contests here was more widely known or better liked.

Misfortune halted her career five years ago and and followed her thereafter. It started when she hurt herself badly in a dive into a shallow pool in Paris. Bronchial pneumonia struck her next, then polio, and finally a chronic liver ailment which caused her death.

As her friend and columnist Dick Hyland wrote of her, "She never said an uncomplimentary word about anyone. She never did a bad thing in her life. They can open the gates of heaven wide, because a champion of champions is headed that way. Aloha, nui loa, Georgia. We'll never forget you."

Funeral services will be held Wednesday at the Little Church of the Flowers in Glendale.

Jeff kept his head down well after he'd finished the article, tears hitting the page with a dull plip.

"She was deeply mourned by everyone who knew her and she was inducted into the Diving Hall of Fame in 1966. If that helps," Phineas said, trying to somehow ease Jeff's pain.

"She was only twenty-eight," Jeff said sadly. "Twelve years from when I met her she died. How is that fair, Bogg?"

Phineas stood up and walked over to his bed. "It's not, Jeff," he said as he lay down again.

They laid there in silence and Jeff stretched out, laying on his right side. After about a minute he realized something was pressing hard into his hip bone. He stood up and jammed his hand into his pocket to remove the offending object.

All the color drained from Jeff's face as he closed his hand around the familiar items, and he choked back a sob. Phineas rolled off the bed and stood beside Jeff, putting his hand on his shoulder, but Jeff shook it off.

"Leave me alone." Jeff turned and walked over to the window, fist clenched tightly around the white wood bead and the red piece of cloth.

"I can't, kid."

Jeff spun around and lashed out at Bogg. "I'm not a kid anymore Bogg, don't you get that? I'm seventeen. Just because I made a poor choice in my life that cost me almost everything, including my life, doesn't mean I'm going to dissolve into a sobbing puddle of goo like I did when I was little. I have to deal with this on my own."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do," Jeff raged at Bogg, getting right in his face, making the older man take a step back. He was shaking, his face flushed and his eyes nearly black. "These right here," he opened his hand to show the bead and cloth, "these say I do. I have no choice!"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"I have to prove I'm strong enough to be a Voyager! Prove that I can love someone only to let them go on to their destiny and be alright like you always are. I have to prove that Drake didn't get inside my head because he showed me mercy by saving my life and then abandoning me-"

Jeff gave an angry, visceral yell as he dropped to his knees and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears. "I am not weak," he bellowed. "I am not a child!"

Phineas stood for just a moment longer before kneeling down beside Jeff. He put his hand on the young man's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze of support.

It had been difficult to keep his presence off the radar, but Drake knew he had one more task to fulfill in his challenge with Jeff, and discovery was well worth the risk. He found where the two Voyagers were staying and crept cautiously into the quaint apartment. Hearing voices come from the bedroom he relaxed a little and sat down on the couch with a sigh.

He reached into the left breast pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out an ornate gold lighter and a Cuban cigar, taking a moment to let the comforting smell of the tobacco soothe him. After placing them on the table he pulled a burgundy fountain pen and a small envelope from his right pocket. Taking the small note card out of the envelope, he smiled at the intricate detailing of the calligraphy in the single letter D in the center. He picked up the Cuban cigar and took the lighter off the table. In the other room the voices were much louder now and carried clearly into the living room.

"Yes I do. I have no choice!"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Drake tilted his head and listened to Jeff rapidly lose control, slowly opening the lighter with a cold smile. Yes, the boy is afraid, he thought wryly, and easy to manip-

The gut-wrenching yell made him jump, dropping his cigar on the table before he could light it.

"I am not weak. I am not a child!"

The savage words from a young and newly broken soul tore open the still-healing wound Drake would just as soon forget. He stiffened as his heart raced, flooded with emotions and memory of his own outburst less than a week before.

"I am not weak," he had shouted at the mountain. The next instant he remembered Jeff's face above him, turning red with the effort of holding onto him. And those words, compassionate but as solid as the grip he could still feel even now... "Dante, I'm not going to let you fall."

Drake took a deep breath and cleared his throat to quell the rising emotions, grabbed the cigar and quickly lit it, allowing the smoke to calm his nerves. He picked up the pen and held it just above the note card, unsure now of the original message he intended to write. As his heart rate slowed, he suddenly remembered the bent and wrinkled old woman wearing a homespun rough white dress and headcover with blue accent, her ancient face close to his as she whispered her sage advice to him alone.

A sardonic smile slowly lit his face and he wrote her words as his final message. "Oh, well played Teresa," he chortled as he stuffed the note into its envelope, sealed it and wrote 'Voyager Jones' on the envelope, puffing on his cigar slowly. "Well played indeed."

Jeff took a shaky breath and exhaled before looking up at Bogg.

"Feeling better kid?"

It had been about ten minutes since his outburst and he was exhausted, irritated and embarrassed. "So much for not dissolving into a puddle of goo," he muttered, more to himself than to Bogg.

"It's okay to be afraid ya know," Phineas said cautiously. "And it is okay to cry."

"All the time?" Jeff's words were bitter and defeated.

"You don't, okay well you did in the beginning, but you got, I mean... C'mon Jeff. Cut yourself some slack will ya? When I landed in your room you were an eleven year old-"

"Almost twelve," Jeff interjected.

Phineas sighed, "Fine, an almost twelve year old kid who had just lost his parents in a horrific accident, and then you were sent to live with people who didn't give a rat's ass about you. And then you fell out a window and suddenly found yourself in ancient Egypt with a guy you didn't even know and no way to get back home. You were frightened and alone, but also smart and cocky."

Jeff smiled slightly, "Smart kids gimme a pain, right?"

"Well, you were a pain in my 'tuba' for quite a while you know."

Jeff glanced up at his friend to see a stern, truthful face with eyes that twinkled with just a bit of tease and he smiled self-consciously.

"You weren't much of a charmer either."

"Granted. But you and me, we grew up together. And maybe you did tend to cry more easily than other boys your age, but look at where you came from. I'm surprised that you didn't just curl up into a ball of sobbing goo and..." Bogg trailed off and sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?"

Jeff was about to reply that since he'd been crying he couldn't smell anything when a klaxon shattered the stillness. The next instant four security guards flashed into existence with weapons drawn.

"Don't move and don't speak," the leader barked at the two startled men. "Chesterson, report!"

There was a pause and from the living room came the disappointed response, "All clear Lieutenant Stewart."

"Harkness, secure the area. At ease everyone." The tall man with the clipped English accent approached Phineas and shouldered his rifle. "Sorry about that, Voyager Bogg."

"What the hell was that all about," Phineas asked.

"In a nutshell, the renegade Voyager was tracked planetside, right here in your living quarters," the lieutenant replied.

"Drake was here?" Jeff looked at Bogg in shock.

"Sir," a female officer called from the front room, "There's something out here for Voyager Jones."

They came out and stood around the coffee table. On the edge of the table closest to the couch an unfinished cigar was slowly burning.

"I told you I smelled something," Phineas muttered.

A large piece of ash dropped to the floor and a grey tendril of smoke rose from the cigar. In the center of the table, propped up against the small fishbowl, was an envelope addressed to 'Voyager Jones' in the distinctive script of Voyager Drake. Jeff reached for the envelope but stopped and looked at the lieutenant.

"Go ahead, m'boy."

He picked it up and slowly pulled the familiar stationary out of the envelope before flipping the card open to read the message. When a full minute had passed and Jeff didn't show any sign of sharing the contents, Lieutenant Stewart nodded to his team and they filed out of the small apartment.

Officer Harkness turned to the Lieutenant and whispered, "But sir, that note is evidence…"

Lt. Steward propelled the man further down the hall. "Yes Jack, it is. But it's not going anywhere and the lad has had enough excitement for one day. We shall retrieve it later."

Once they were gone Jeff sat down on the couch, tossing the note card on the coffee table and put his head in his hands.

Phineas reached for the card and just as he touched it he paused; Jeff was staring at him but didn't protest the action. Taking that as an okay to proceed, Bogg picked up the note and read it.

Voyager Jones:

Never regret having chosen or met the wrong people in life,

As no one else can teach the right lessons better than the wrong people.

- Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

"How dare he quote that beautiful woman," Phineas exploded. "Of all the vile, rotten things-"

"She's right."

Phineas turned to Jeff in shock. "What?"

Jeff stood up off the couch and snatched the note out of his friend's hand. "She's right. Mother Teresa I mean. The wrong person did teach me the right lessons."

"Now wait a second, kid. Fifteen minutes ago you were falling apart at the seams, unable to deal with all the crap that bastard put you through, and now you're, you're…"

"Being rational?" Jeff almost laughed at the look on Bogg's face. "I know it's totally weird, but this," he waved the note between them, "this feels right. He gets it, and so do I."

"Then explain it to me, Professor Jones because I'm lost."

Jeff was surprised, hurt and irritated by the sharp sarcasm. "You know, it is entirely possible for me to learn something positive from someone other than you."

"Not from him you don't," Phineas shouted. "Drake teaches you how not to act, what not to do out in the field. He's never done a good thing in his life!"

"So saving me was a bad thing?" His words struck Phineas as hard as a physical slap.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." They were quiet for a moment and then Jeff continued. "But something changed when Kabibe asked him to buy my freedom. Ahmed said Drake cried and mentioned something about a child being tortured for her father's politics… I don't know."

Phineas blinked in shock. "Machiavelli…"

"Huh?"

"Drake was his student, and when Machiavelli was arrested his entire household was taken. His secretary's daughter was about five or six years old and she was with Drake when he was taken. She kicked and screamed but Drake couldn't help her. Then she saw her father being dragged off and she bit the soldier on the arm and started attacking the men who held her dad. Apparently one of them backhanded her and she dropped like rag doll. The last Drake saw of her was a guard tying her up as she cried out for help. He never saw Rosalia again."

"Wow. How do you know all this anyway?"

Bogg glanced away uncomfortably. "I um, well, that's part of the 'why Bogg and Drake hate each other' story that I keep promising to tell you. Which I will, and soon. I hate to say it, but he really did have a heart once."

"So that's why Dante petitioned the Chief to spare my life?"

Phineas snorted. "Dante? No one's called him that since the Academy."

Jeff rolled his eyes. "That is his name, you know. I mean, he wasn't gracious about it or anything, but still he seemed to feel compelled to do it. And in the end instead of leaving me there with no hope of rescue, he apparently told you where to find me. He never would have done that before all this. I even talked to Ludwig about it and he said he's seen things like this before; that Uhuru has a way of changing people."

"Well Professor Jones," he winked at Jeff, "since you have shown me the error of my ways in believing Dra... er, Dante couldn't be a positive role model, what right lesson did you learn from the wrong person?"

He looked down at his hands before replying. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

An awkward silence followed as Phineas waited for Jeff to continue, which Bogg finally broke. "That's it?"

"Isn't that enough," Jeff retorted.

The look in the young man's eyes was warning enough for Bogg and he held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. It's enough, for now."

"I need some sleep. I'm going to bed."

Bogg watched silently as Jeff walked into the bedroom and closed the door hard enough to indicate he wanted to be left alone.

Jeff's ordeal took its toll which irritated him and just made matters worse. He was moody and withdrawn in the days following his rescue, and remained stubbornly silent during his daily meeting with Counselor Suarez. She was a patient woman and as strong willed as Jeff was, and eventually she cracked his resolve. It had been eight days since his return, and after an especially long session where Counselor Suarez got him to finally admit to his inner fears, Jeff went straight to his room and to bed.

Phineas was called into the counselor's office ten minutes after Jeff got home. He was surprised to find Garth and Curt already in the office awaiting his arrival. Counselor Suarez smiled at the trio as she perched on the corner of her massive oak desk.

"Gentlemen, Jeffrey had a breakthrough today; a very painful experience for him but one that was necessary if he ever had any hope of continuing on into the Academy."

If the look of indignant shock on Bogg's face surprised her she didn't show it and held up her hand to silence him.

"Mr. Bogg, you must have known that acceptance into the Academy was not guaranteed? Mr. Jones is subject to the same tests, evaluations and assessments that any other potential voyager is. Just because he's been traveling with you for the past five years in spite of my protestations-"

Phineas jumped to his feet. "Now hold on! What do you mean 'in spite of my protestations?' Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Voyager Bogg sit down," Garth bellowed. "One more outburst like that and you will feel my wrath as never before."

With great force of will, Phineas returned to his seat, never taking his eyes off Suarez.

"I won't patronize you, Mr. Bogg. As hard as truth is to hear, I will tell you my professional opinion about Jeffrey's readiness to become a Voyager." She glanced at Curt who nodded and she continued.

"While you may not value my opinion as a counselor, please understand that I am in fact a doctor, a title that I hold in seven different points in history. People prefer the title 'counselor' as it is less threatening, therefore I use it. So know that I am, in fact Dr. Amelia Suarez, MD, Ph. D, Th. D."

The doctor's dark eyes held Phineas' gaze, which he had softened slightly, and she gave him a genuine smile as he processed her last statement.

"That being said, when he became your 'ward,' I did not feel Mr. Jones should be voyaging at such a young age without any prior tutelage from us. I was however convinced to 'watch and learn' as Counselor Garth and the Director put it; I followed your progress with him on many voyages and decided that he felt safest and most secure with you."

"So," he said cautiously, "what was this big breakthrough that could have prevented him from ever becoming a Voyager?"

"That he is wanted and loved and will never be abandoned, and also truly understanding and believing that he is not responsible for his parents death."

"That's preposterous," Garth sputtered. "I told the boy myself that he bore no fault in what happened to his parents that day!"

Dr. Suarez reached behind her and picked up a file, idly flipping through it. "Did you look at the event as a whole, or did you review each individual family member's history on that day Sir? Because if you followed young Jeffrey's activities you would have seen him helping his dad put oil in the car and checking the coolant and brake fluid prior to leaving for their trip. It was his job to check fluid levels each time they stopped for fuel, and at their last stop he only checked the oil, not the coolant or brake fluid as he had been instructed."

Garth looked thoughtful as Phineas spoke. "So he believed that the accident was his fault because he didn't do his job."

"The cause of the accident was never discovered," the doctor continued, "though it was believed, and we know, that Mr. Jones fell asleep at the wheel. Yet young Jeffrey couldn't bear the knowledge that he didn't check the levels before they started out again and he told his father he had checked. He held that burden of guilt for all these years, until just this afternoon. And because of that, he still has issues with being accepted and unconditionally loved."

"No way," Phineas stood and faced the doctor. "He knows I love him like he was my own kid and that I would never abandon him!"

Dr. Suarez slid off her desk and approached the voyager. "This may come as a surprise to you, Mr. Bogg, but he lied. And before you get all belligerent on me I'll share why. He's seventeen years old, a man in many cultures and countries in any time zone, and yet you still look at him as the child you found yourself burdened with so many years ago. A child I daresay you didn't want."

Images flashed through Bogg's mind in an instant: catching the young boy in mid-air, landing in 1450 BC Egypt and telling him to 'get lost;' in 1917 France telling him, 'what's wrong here is you;' and then the horrible thing he said in 1903 on the beach at Kitty Hawk- "this is it, time to part our ways. And what's this 'father' business? What about your own father? If he's anything like me you probably did him in, too.' Even now the hateful words made him ill and brought tears to his eyes.

Her tone had been more harsh than she intended and she watched the man's face change from challenging anger to an expression of sick grief and deep sorrow. Before she could redeem herself, Curt walked over to Phineas and led him back to his chair.

"I think you've more than made your point, Amelia," Curt said with authority.

"Understood, Director Rogers. My apologies, Mr. Bogg."

"She's right," Phineas said. "I do still see him as a little kid who needs my protection, Jeff's said as much. But does he really still believe all those things I said to him when we first met?"

Dr. Suarez thought a moment before answering. "No, I don't think so but the memory and the meaning do still haunt him. Childhood memories shape the adult a person becomes and while words might be forgiven they may not be forgotten. Also you may have discussed his feelings about his parents death but you never validated them. If he said he felt responsible for the accident, you told him it wasn't his fault and he needed to believe that. He told me that he believed the other adults in his life knew the accident was his fault, which is why he felt his aunt and uncle didn't want him."

"That's an awful lot for anyone to carry around," Curt said. "So, how do we proceed from here doctor?"

"That is entirely up to Mr. Jones. He has asked for a day off and I have agreed to that. He has also asked that Mr. Bogg see me at least once."

"For what," Phineas asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"To help you let him grow up. Life is a balance of holding on, letting go, and knowing when to do which of the two Mr. Bogg. That is what you need to learn."

It was agreed that Phineas would not go back to the apartment so Jeff could have some space and time to himself. He wandered around VHQ for an hour or so before he finally found something to keep him occupied for a while- the diving pool. He spent the better part of the afternoon pushing himself to do harder and harder dives until he could barely pull himself out of the water. When Curt finally found him many hours later the sun was setting and Bogg was sitting in a lounge chair just staring at the water.

"You can go home now, you know," Curt said with a playful wink. "Jeff asked me to help find you since you obviously didn't take a comm for us to reach you."

"I just had a lot to think about," Bogg replied as he put his shoes on. "And diving seems to help. By the way, I'm starved. Is that little Italian place still around? The one by the Hall of Records?"

Curt picked up the small communicator, dialed a quick sequence of numbers and then spoke. "Hey Kristi, its Curt. Dinner for three tonight, the works. Got it?"

"Understood Director Rogers."

Phineas smiled as they started walking back to his apartment. "Power has its perks I guess."

The director shook his head. "Nah, just a direct line to the owner of Palladino's and a good appetite. C'mon, tonight we dine like kings and leave our troubles out in the cold!"

The food was better than Phineas remembered and the three men had a wonderful time telling stories, making jokes and simply having fun. By the time they got back home Jeff and Bogg were too tired to do anything other than go straight to sleep after an exhausting emotional day.

Jeff was the first one awake the next morning and he left the apartment as quietly as possible. He was waiting for Dr. Suarez in her office when she arrived and told her what he wanted to do.

"Are you sure you want to do this alone Jeffrey?"

"Yes ma'am."

She scrutinized him as she considered his request and finally agreed. Fifteen minutes later Curt walked in and handed Jeff an omni.

"Okay Jeff, here's the deal. This is preset to the specific date and time zone you requested. You have up to eight hours and if you haven't returned in the allotted time you will automatically be recalled. If you try to tinker with the omni to go anywhere else you will land back in VHQ and will be dealt with accordingly, are we clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Then take what you need and be back in eight hours or less. And good luck, son."

About an hour after Jeffrey left there was a pounding on her office door. Dr. Suarez got up and opened the door. "Hello Mr. Bogg. How may I help you?"

"Is Jeff with you?" He brushed past her and scanned the room

"No, he isn't, but don't worry, he's fine."

"Where is he?"

"Voyaging." Phineas turned around to face her and she held up her hands. "Mr. Bogg, if you think for one moment that I would put my patient's life in danger then I'm rather disappointed in you."

Phineas resisted the urge to punch the wall and swallowed his frustration. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before answering her. "I know you wouldn't, doc. I just want to make sure he feels safe and secure, ya know? I gotta protect him. It's just like when we started voyaging together and he'd talk about his parents' accident or have a bad dream; I mean, I know he's older now and can cope better, but…"

The counselor smiled, "Remember yesterday when I told you that life is a balance of holding on, letting go, and knowing when to do which of the two?"

Phineas nodded.

"Well, today is the day we start our first lesson: when to let go."