Part 12

Things settled into a routine again for the most part. Harold suddenly found himself being dragged along to therapy with Dr. Patti when his phobia about going out after the kidnapping became evident. The little family talked everything out with the good doctor concerning his capture, John's fight to get him back, Ashlyn's use of the forbidden computer, and the blow up afterwards. The woman decreed that his extreme reaction had been brought on by stress, anxiety, and fear, all of which were being allayed by the love and care the other two showed.

Gradually, Harold began taking walks again around the neighborhood, at first always accompanied by John on one side and the canine, newly named Bear, on the other (making him the safest man in New York City). His paranoia was worse than ever for a while, but it also showed signs of easing as the soothing balm of family brought comfort to his fretful soul. He realized that Ashlyn and John had not broken his code maliciously, but to help find him, and he didn't try to change the password again to lock them out, proving his level of trust.

The teenager returned to her studies between helping the two men with the numbers that kept coming in and easily excelled as she always did. Secure in the love and comfort of her father and adoptive uncle, Ashlyn was able to do things she'd never before dreamed of and she found herself branching out in many different directions.

John had been unhappy when he found out she'd been observing some of his physical altercations with the bad guys; he'd been tipped off to what she was doing after a particularly nasty fight where he'd broken the man's arm in several places, snapped ribs like twigs, dislocated a kneecap, and knocked him unconscious. The police had to take him to the hospital for treatment before transporting him to jail. When he'd returned to the library that evening to pick her up, she shifted away from his touch so causally that he wasn't even aware at first she was actually avoiding him. When they left, she was more quiet than normal, answering his questions about her studies, but as briefly as possible.

He decided to stop at a restaurant for dinner and she sat across from him, eyes and head lowered. When their waitress appeared to take their order, Ashlyn actually flinched as the woman surprised her from behind and scooted deeper into the corner of the booth they were sitting in. As soon as they had given their orders and the woman walked away, John was leaning across the table, "Okay, what's wrong?"

Green eyes flickered up to meet his gaze for a brief second before dropping again, "Nothing."

"Wrong answer," the big man replied as he slid out of the seat and pivoted to plop down in the seat next to her. The teen's response was to nearly cower into the wall beside her and turn her head into the wood protectively. John felt his heart shatter at this evidence that his daughter once again feared him for some reason. "Talk to me, Ashlyn, don't shut me out, please. We promised never to lie to one another."

She shook her head almost violently and he sighed heavily. This was going to be a long night.

The screams of terror brought him catapulting down the stairs and through the door to his daughter's bedside in record time. She was sitting up already as he came in, hands clapped tightly over her mouth as she attempted to stifle the sobs breaking free, and he hurried to her, "Easy, baby, it's alright."

Chanting, "No, no, no," the girl tried to scramble off the other side of the bed away from him, but John was having none of it. With lightening fast reflexes, he caught hold of her slender form and pulled her into his arms, automatically fending off her blows as she attempted to escape him. Finally, worried she might hurt herself, he just pinned her arms to her sides in a firm embrace and trapped her against his broad chest as he sat on the edge of the bed.

She didn't tire out nearly as easily as she had when they'd first found her, but she still didn't stand a chance against his power and strength and eventually gave up.

"Talk to me," came the soft command. Usually when she woke him with her cries, he asked her if she would tell him what was going on; this time it was a clear order.

Hesitantly, she began to speak, "I saw what you did to that guy today. You hurt him really bad and there was absolutely no expression on your face the entire time. How could you do all that to him and not feel something? And all the other times you've knocked people around or taken them down, you don't seem to register anything."

John's mind whirled over the events of the day until he pinpointed what she was referring to and he remembered exactly the damage he'd done and why.

Crap.

This was SO not something he wanted to talk to his fifteen year old daughter about.

Unconsciously, he slowly began to rock, trying to sooth both himself and his agitated child as he formulated a reply. She was old enough to know about the real world, but their life together was still so new and he wanted to shield her from the harsh realities of life.

Finally he sighed, "It wasn't that I felt nothing, sweetheart, or that it doesn't register; I've been trained to respond and react to almost any given situation without true conscious thought. I see someone with a gun, they have to be neutralized so they don't hurt someone. If some guy comes at me swinging, I'm going to stop him. I don't think about what I'm doing, I just do it, so it looks like I don't feel anything when it happens." He looked down into the pale eyes watching him so closely, "How do you know about these things?"

She ducked her head under his chin to avoid his dark blue stare, "When you're out sometimes, I track you on the cameras so I know you're alright."

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid you might be taken like Harold was and I want to make sure I can find you if it happens," she admitted in a whisper.

"Oh, baby, you can't obsess over that or you'll drive yourself crazy, not to mention the heart attacks you're going to give me when you see something you shouldn't and have nightmares," he hugged her tighter in loving reassurance.

Ashlyn's arms snaked around his waist as she clung to him, "I can't help it; I keep thinking that someone's going to take you away from me."

"No one is going to separate us. In fact, I've started the process of officially being named your father so I have all the rights a legal parent would."

She leaned back slightly in his grip to look up at him, "How? I mean, you don't really exist on paper, do you?"

Settling himself more comfortably, John shook his head, "I have a number of aliases that have 'died' over the years and have created so many paper trails that no one remembers I had a real name. That is the name that I'm going to have put on the paperwork; and I would like to legally change your last name to match."

Her fingers played idly with the collar of his tee shirt, "You know, I don't actually know what your real name is. Mom always just called you 'John' when she talked about you."

One large hand came up to envelop hers, "I've been Reese for a number of years, I guess I forgot about that. I'm sorry, sweetheart; I should have told you when I first brought you home."

"So what is it?"

"Shepherd. Jonathon Shepherd."

She gave a soft laugh, "How appropriate, Shepherd."

John chuckled as well, "I never really thought about it, but you're right."

"So, back to my original problem," she cuddled back down comfortably, "why did you beat that particular guy as much as you did? He didn't seem to be resisting very much, especially after you broke his arm. Twice."

"Four times, actually. Or I should say in four different places."

"Not really helping here, dad."

"Sorry," John began stroking her hair to sooth himself as much as her. "That guy was the worst of the worst in my opinion and when he admitted to me that what he did he not only enjoys but would continue to do, I kind of lost it."

"What did he do?"

He took a deep breath, "He was a rapist; the nastiest kind because he targets children and specifically girls between the ages of ten and seventeen." He pulled his legs up so that she was cradled tightly to his torso and completely encircled by his warm embrace, "All I could picture was you at his mercy and me unable to get to you in time."

Ashlyn shuddered violently at that picture and huddled into his protective hold, "Now I know why you beat him so badly."

He shifted slightly, uncomfortable with what he was about to admit, but feeling she needed to know the full truth, "I wouldn't have stopped, baby. Unless I was forced to, I wouldn't have stopped until I'd killed him."

"What made you stop?" she whispered.

"A voice screaming in my ear that I didn't want to do this and needed to cease immediately."

"Harold?"

"Harold."

She frowned, "I was in my study room at the library watching it on the screen, but I never heard him raise his voice."

A chuckle sounded deep in his chest and echoed in her ear, "Sweetheart, don't you know that he has almost all of those rooms soundproofed so that if the doors are closed you can't hear anything?"

Her head shot up, "What?!"

"Part of his paranoia, he wanted to make sure that if anyone was in the building they wouldn't be able to overhear him when he was talking to me."

Pale green eyes narrowed, "So that's why he keeps doors closed all the time."

"That's why." He caught her chin so that she focused on him, "Now, I want you to promise me that you're not going to continue to obsess over keeping an eye on me through the computer. Please."

She was silent for a long minute as she stared into his steady blue gaze, "Alright; I promise. But you have to promise to be extra careful when you're out stalking bad guys."

"That is one promise I will keep, little one. I've only just found you; I don't want to leave you anytime soon."

When they entered the library, Bear raced to greet them; happily pawing at his Alpha as the big man ruffled his neck and spoke softly to him, then leaning into Ashlyn's embrace when she knelt on the floor in front of him. When she rose, he pranced beside her, dark eyes fixed on her face, tail waving in delight to have all of his pack together. When Harold turned from his computer to greet them, the dog bounced over to him, barked once, then turned to the pair approaching and barked again. Looking back and forth, he waited impatiently for someone to understand what he was saying.

The computer genius only looked at him in confusion; having never had or spent time with a dog before he simply didn't get the nuances of body language being conveyed. The pack Alpha, however, got it.

"Good boy, Bear; yes, Harold knows we're here."

"Is that what all this is about?" Finch asked.

"Yes, Harold, Bear is letting you know that we're here and he wants it acknowledged."

The man only looked confused, "But I can see you; you're standing right in front of me so how could I now know that you've arrived?"

"He's a dog, Harold," John explained patiently, "all he wants to do is make sure you know the Alpha has arrived."

The billionaire harrumphed softly at the Alpha remark before looking down at the still dancing animal, "Good dog. I see them."

Ecstatic over being understood and praised, the canine dove into his bed and came up with a tennis ball which he promptly dropped on Harold's keyboard; slobber and all. With a sigh, he gingerly picked up the toy and threw it down the hallway, watching the long legs propel the Belgian at top speed after it. Reese chuckled at the man's pained expression and resignation at having a guard dog to play with.

Finch shot him a dark look before turning back to his computers, "We have another number."

"Of course we do."

The two men settled down at the computers to go over what information they had while Ashlyn contented herself in her study room, keeping the door open. Bear went back and forth to keep an eye on everyone and having the ball thrown before finally stretching out on a dog bed set up by her desk and napping. After a couple of hours, she finished the study module she was working on and rose to stretch, bringing the canine to his feet as well, hopeful for a walk.

Walking back to the main room, she found the two men staring at the clear board set up with a variety of pictures and notes, "I'm taking Bear for a walk, he and I both need to stretch our legs."

"Don't go far and make sure you have your phone, please, sweetheart," John responded without turning around as he pointed at something for his friend.

"Got it," she stated as she snapped her fingers for Bear; the big dog stayed glued to her side and sat promptly when she picked up the leash and clipped it to his collar. He was so well trained that he didn't actually need the lead, but the law required it and she wouldn't take any chances.

The pair walked a block over to a small park and Bear was happily engrossed in marking territory and checking out all the other scents while his mistress just enjoyed being out in the fresh air. She sat on the end of a bench and played the leash out to its end so he could continue his explorations while she looked around to see who else was in the area. There was a little playground nearby with several small children being watched over by parents and a snow cone vender doing good business. Another man hawked from the other side of the park for people to come buy his delicious hotdogs and, since it was nearing lunch, had several takers.

Reaching into her pocket, Ashlyn cautiously checked how much money she had on her before pulling out her phone and texting her father.

Hotdogs for lunch?

His reply came quickly, YES!

The teen giggled softly, her dad generally ate foods that were nutritious and good for him so that he stayed in shape, but he had certain things he craved now and then, hotdogs being one of them. Uncle, too?

This response was a bit slower, Yes, plz. 1 w/all & 1 w/chz. Have $?

I'm good. BBL. K9 not done.

Pushing her phone back in her pocket, Ashlyn softly asked, "Bear, you about done?" He just wagged his tail and went back to sniffing after looking in her direction. The mistress hadn't given a command so he didn't have to hurry.

Holding the leash loosely in her hand, the teen leaned her head back and enjoyed the sunshine playing across her face.

Nearby, a man lowered himself to another bench and studied the beautiful girl, admiring the healthy gleam of her long black hair as it drifted around her in the breeze, her lovely face lit by the sun, slender body at ease and comfortable in her surroundings. She had been to the park a few times before, usually with an older man who looked nothing like her with his brown hair, sharp features, and glasses. This was the first time he'd seen her here on her own.

When Bear tugged gently on the lead, Ashlyn opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. He was half buried under a thick bush, tail waving madly, as he whined eagerly at something. Curious, she rose and went over to him, thinking he must have found some kind of food he wanted, though he was trained to not eat something from the ground or a stranger. John had retrained the dog to answer to English commands to make things easier on Harold so she quietly commanded, "Bear, back."

Obedient, but unhappy, the dog came out from under the bush, and looked up at her expectantly. Leaning over so she could see, Ashlyn spotted something grey/black and furry and she thought at first it was a dead rat or a cat until it moved, turning a tiny muzzle in her direction and gave a whimpering cry. Dropping to her knees, the girl reached in and carefully pulled out a filthy, matted, emaciated puppy that whined fearfully and tried to crawl back into its hiding place. She murmured softly to it and cradled it close to her body, feeling its shaking form. Bear reached up and sniffed the pup before gently swiping a large warm tongue over its face.

Tucking the pup in one arm, Ashlyn hurried over to the hotdog vender, first asking him if he knew anything about the little critter, then ordering lunch for her family and extra for the animals when he indicated the negative. He was kind enough to put everything into a bag for her so she wouldn't have to juggle food, pup, and Bear so much. Thanking him, she hurried out of the park, never noticing the eyes that followed her from a distant bench.