A/N: So after saying that I was going to take a break from this, naturally the bug bit me again! I'm also breaking my rules and working on two stories at once. The first few chapters of Interludes, the threequel to Confessions and Complications will also be up soon.

This chapter begins part 3, which I'm pleased to say, has a plot! I'm working with a different format here. This story was going to take forever if I continued to write it the way I tend to, every moment of every day. So instead, I'm going to write just one important scene for each month that passes in the story. Let me know what you think of it.

In this particular chapter, there are too many Knights. Whenever someone is referred to by their last name only, that is Aloysius Knight.

Chapter 21: January

Shane Schofield and Aloysius Knight passed their first New Year's Eve together in the tradition of all new parents everywhere – as soon as the baby was asleep, so were they; fuck New Year's Eve.

But Beth, it seemed, had other plans. She had been restless for a few days now, spitting up her food like the formula had personally offended her and throwing tantrums if either parent left her sight for even a moment. Despite her sudden clinginess, she seemed almost angry with them and the world in general. They had learnt the hard way to keep her out of reach of their hair, ears and sunglasses when the strange vicious fits took her. Their fingers now bore the marks of her gums which had turned suddenly and strangely hard overnight. Both Shane and Aloysius were grateful that her apparent distress was probably nothing more than teething and not a sign of some significant illness but the prospect of it lasting several months was not one either man relished. She had been fussy before bed that night but having already cried herself into exhaustion throughout the day, Schofield was hopeful that they'd gone through the worst of it; at least until morning.

He was wrong.

Shane stirred in their darkened bedroom and reached instinctively for his battered old Casio watch. The numbers, glowing a faint green gleam, told him it wasn't yet eleven o'clock as he looked around for what had disturbed his sleep. He didn't have far to look – a tinny wailing was coming through the baby monitor.

Casting a glance over at Knight, whose sleep remained unbroken, Shane dragged his reluctant body out of bed and stumbled down the hall to Beth's bedroom. He didn't turn on the light - Juliet had told him it only encouraged them to wake up more – in some vain hope of settling her easily. Carefully, he lifted Beth's squirming body and held her close, pacing the room and rocking her gently, trying to soothe her with the motion. Beth, however, was not soothed. If anything her cries became louder, racketing up to the next level from simple displeasure to downright hysteria.

Shane hadn't felt this hopeless with her since the first terrifying nights they had spent together at home, alone.
He changed her.
He tried bribing her with an extra night time feed.
He rocked back and forth in the rocking chair beside the window sill and just held her close but her cries refused to run out.
He even voluntarily gave her a finger to gnaw on.

Sometime between midnight and dawn, the walls of the small nursery began to feel like they were closing in on him. It took all the willpower he had but Shane took Beth and his own unwillingly upright body into the lounge room and resumed his pacing. Her breathing evened out in rhythm with his steps but her crying just turned from breathless and desperate into a relentless howl. Shane was at a loss. His head had been throbbing for well over an hour now and with it he was beginning to feel dizzy and nauseous. Quite apart from his head, pain was also slicing through his back and legs and a blackness unrelated to the night was creeping into the edges of his vision.

Desperately, Shane shifted one hand until it was holding Beth firmly under her butt whilst the other one came up to rub slow circles on her back, cradling her against his chest.

"I don't know what to do," he said to her desperately, "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

It was then with Beth's head tucked firmly into his neck that Shane realised how hot she was. Her skin, plastered against his felt like it was radiating fire and her dark hair was damp.

Cursing himself for not noticing earlier, Shane hurried back into the bedroom where Knight still slept undisturbed.

"Al," he whispered urgently as he shook Knight's shoulder, "Aloysius, wake up."

Knight stirred blearily before muttering, "whassa' matter?"

"Beth's really hot," Shane said, the weariness in his voice couldn't disguise the clear note of panic, "I think she's sick."

Knight sat up, rubbing his eyes, and flicked on the lamp beside their bed before plucking the baby from Schofield's strained arms. Beth's skin was red and angry for sure but it seemed to him no more than the product of exhaustion and tired lungs from all the screaming. He babbled calming baby nonsense to her until her cries finally started to diminish into gentle hiccups and pathetic mews. Before long Beth's eyes were drifting shut and her skin was just the right shade of pink against her dark eyelashes.

"She's fine," Aloysius said, not sure which one he was reassuring more: Beth or Shane.

But if Beth was fine, all traces of her hysteria now fading away in Knight's arms, then Shane looked terrible. His skin was practically grey and dark shadows were clinging around his eyes. Now that the panic fuelled adrenaline was wearing off, he seemed to be swaying on his feet, almost at the verge of collapse.

"How long have you been up?" Knight asked, concerned.

"Couple of hours," Shane murmured back.

Brushing his lips quickly against Schofield's forehead, Knight was relieved to find no trace of fever but Shane still looked unwell.

"You need to sleep babe," the endearment fell past his lips before he could catch it but Shane seemed so tired he hardly even noticed. "I'll put Beth back to bed."

Shane was pliant as he allowed Knight to manhandle him back to bed before he disappeared off with the now peaceful baby. He would never admit it but Shane was grateful for the helping hand, he still felt strangely shaky and sick. Aloysius took him time in returning and Shane imagined him sitting in the rocking chair holding Beth until the last remnants of sleep overtook her entirely. Rationally, Shane knew that babies picked up upon the emotions around them easily. She had been upset with him because he was upset but calmed for Knight because he was calm. With hindsight, he knew he should have brought her to Knight much earlier and calmed them both down. Besides, after the first couple of weeks where Beth hadn't taken well to Aloysius, Shane couldn't have begrudged him this success but he was still frustrated and feeling unusually out of control of his emotions. He tried to push it away as overtiredness and instead focussed on the image of Knight holding Beth tight and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than those arms back with him in their bed, holding him steady.

But by the time Knight rolled back into their bed and pressed up close against his spine, Shane felt over-heated and over-crowded. Feeling rotten, he rolled away from the firm warmth of Knight at his back, heard the way Knight breathed a little sharper but gave him his space and pulled the rubbish bin a little closer to the bed.
Just in case.

Beth slept soundly through the rest of the night but it clearly wasn't enough as she was still grumpy the next morning. Aloysius watched as Shane strapped her into the car seat. As a rapidly growing five month old child, she had now developed enough control over her body that when she didn't want to do something – like be strapped into her car seat – she had enough coordination to resist. Every time he put her arm through the safety restraints, she whipped it back out again and when he tried to fasten the buckle over her stomach, she would arch her back out, making it too loose. By the time she was securely strapped in, Schofield looked pale and shaky again.

"We don't have to do this," Knight said matter of factly.

Belying his poor look, Shane's voice was even when he replied, "You're not missing out on seeing your parents because the baby's teething. Plenty of other parents have got through this, we will too."

Knight stepped closer until he was right in Shane's personal space.
"It's not the baby I'm worried about."

"I'm fine," Shane said, stiffening slightly with Knight's proximity. He knew the other man didn't mean to be overbearing but it was starting to drive him crazy. He was, after all, a marine and quite capable of looking after himself.

"I'll sleep on the plane," he added, brushing away Knight's hand that was playing with the short bristles at the back of his head.

He did try to sleep on the plane. Despite his earlier fleeting and probably irrational irritation, Knight's shoulder looked by far the most tempting place to lay his head and he was strangely grateful when Aloysius slid an arm around his shoulders, holding him there secure.

But sleep was always going to be elusive on the small, turbulent flight. Quite apart from the fuss Beth was making; there was the clatter of the trolleys up and down the aisle to contend with. The person behind him kept moving their table up and down and the bright sunlight streaming through the window didn't help either. In the end, Shane just shut his eyes in an effort to calm the raging headache throbbing behind them.

He was now very glad indeed that they'd chosen to fly from the capital to New Hampshire. They had contemplated the ten hour road trip – flying with a small child was notoriously difficult, they had been told – but seeing as Beth was probably going to be difficult anyway, they had decided that braving the one hour flight with her in an enclosed space was far better than ten hours with her in an enclosed space.
The other people on the flight however, they probably weren't so glad.

They arrived at the bustling Pease International Airport.
Knight's parents didn't meet them there.

Aloysius shrugged it off and called for a cab. Whilst Knight gave directions and negotiated a fare for the hour long trip to Portsmouth itself, Shane strapped Beth's car seat in tight before climbing in the back seat with her. The over-crowded airport with the constant announcements and the thunderous roll of aeroplanes overhead had done little for his head. Normally, neither man would have travelled with anything more than they could carry on their backs but travelling with an infant presented a whole new realm of problems. Never mind that they were only supposed to be there for the weekend, Beth needed blankets and plenty of spare changes of clothes given the frequent mess she made of herself. Not to mention the portable cot and car seat, both of which had to travel with the oversized luggage, and of course one small but very precious stuffed toy dog with long floppy ears now a little worn from little hands' clutches. The luggage carousel with its crazy press of people all vying and jostling for the best spots made Schofield feel dizzy and nauseous again.

Damn, he really needed to sleep.

The drive to an exclusive suburban area in the centre of Portsmouth passed in a blur.
Literally.
It took all his remaining concentration to focus on the roads passing them by and to hold back the bile threatening to crawl up his throat.

Beth, as was her way, slept soundly throughout the car trip. The motion of a moving vehicle being one of the fool proof ways to settle her and Shane reconsidered the wisdom of driving back at the end of the weekend. By the time they stopped in front of a grand house, she was in angelic mode.

"Typical," Shane muttered to himself as he picked her warm body up, leaving the car seat for Knight to deal with.

"There's no point acting cute for me," he said to Beth, who gurgled happily and drooled on his shirt, "I know you're trouble."

The Knights were waiting for them on the sweeping porch that surrounded their handsome redbrick home. Everything about Alison Knight screamed perfectly average; from the mousy brown hair that fell to her shoulders to the department store clothing that was neither fashionable nor dowdy enough to call attention. The only hint of her personality came through in her wide, soft brown eyes.

Although Shane had never had the opportunity to examine them properly through sunglasses and darkened rooms, he suspected those same eyes looked back at him from her son's face. Right down to the flecks of gold that almost escaped notice.

Her husband, Greg, stood at an even six feet tall, at exact eye level with his son and in his house – larger than the average American home but no more so than the neighbours – with its neatly mowed lawn and freshly washed car, standing together with his faultless wife, they seemed to epitomise the American dream.

Shane could tell straight away from his father's posture that Aloysius Knight was not following in family tradition and a handshake, firm but callous free, confirmed that Greg Knight was no soldier.

As they approached, Alison Knight flung out her arms and cried in a warm voice, "Aloysius."

Shane, with the baby in his arms and their rucksack slung over his other shoulder, was spared the ordeal of a hug, although Knight wasn't so lucky. Instead, she pressed dry lips coated in an appropriately neutral shade of long-last lipstick to Schofield's cheek and ushered them both inside. Greg Knight relieved Aloysius of the car seat from one hand, leaving him with the portable cot in the other. They were shepherded through to a large and nicely appointed dining room.

Whilst Knight disappeared upstairs to set up the portable cot in one of three spare bedrooms, Shane spared a glance around the walls – which were decorated with tasteful but traditional artwork – until he found what he was looking for on the large and elaborate mantelpiece over the electric fireplace: photos of Knight as a child.

There were several of him standing with his father, ostensibly hunting together and in each photo, little Aloysius got bigger and so did the gun clutched in his pale hands.

There were several of him sitting with his mother and in each one his face, so familiar and yet so different from the man he would become, was sombre behind amber lenses.

But one caught his eye – a photo of a small boy who couldn't have been older than four. His hands were clasped firmly in another larger pair and his feet were a good foot off the ground. Someone else must have been hovering very close by to catch that playful moment because they hadn't managed to catch the person attached to the hands which were swinging him around. It took Shane a moment to realise why that particular photo had caught his eye.
The young Aloysius Knight was smiling.
Smiling all the way to his eyes.
Which were on display for all the world to see.

For a moment there, Shane thought he'd become so lost in the easy joyfulness of the photo that the edges had simply started to blur around him until he realised that the world actually was spinning around him and black spots were dancing at the edge of his vision.

"That's a nice picture, Mrs Knight," he said, using every bit of his concentration to force the words out in a sensible fashion.

He was saved the trouble of replying to whatever small-talk Alison Knight attempted as Aloysius came barrelling back into the room at that moment, having obviously successfully put up the portable cot. He took stock of the situation, Schofield's suddenly pale colouring and shaking arms, and immediately plucked Beth out of them.

"You need to sleep," Aloysius said firmly, pushing Shane gently but insistently towards the hallway. "Bedroom is the first on the left."

Shane complied without arguing, sensing that if he didn't lie down soon, he would actually fall down.

He did however pause halfway up the stairs, just out of sight, long enough to hear Alison Knight ask, "So he's your -?"

She let the question hang and Shane was relieved to hear Knight fire back in rapid succession, "boyfriend, partner, father of my child."

He could almost see the nonchalant shrug Knight would give with the answer as though daring his parents to press the point. The unspoken 'is there a problem?' was clear in his tone.

"Oh," his mother replied, as much a question as a statement.

"Father of -?" Greg repeated.

"My child," Knight finished and again, his tone brokered no disagreement. "He's a mutant."

Schofield was glad he left the explanation at that, simple and direct, as was Knight's usual wont and thankfully, neither parent decided to question further. The intrusion of their son's mutant male lover and child into their well-ordered lives seemed to have thrown them.

There was a moment's tense silence before Alison asked optimistically, "What do you do for a living now?"

Shane didn't stay to hear the answer, certain that either way – unemployed or bounty hunter – it was not going to go down well.

Letting himself into the impersonal bedroom, he sank down onto the crisp sheets immediately. There was no point in setting up a baby monitor; Beth was sleeping in the next room over. If she had another bad night, no one in the whole house would be getting any sleep.

Shane knew it was unrealistic but he had briefly entertained the idea of getting to see a good glimpse of Knight's childhood, especially the bedroom he had grown up in. Would he have had posters covering every wall and toys strewn across the floor or had he been as meticulous a child as he was an adult? But this house was not the house that Aloysius Knight had grown up in. It was only the place his parents had been sent when they thought he was gone from their lives forever and the absence of their only child's fingerprints was glaring. Instead of posters of bands idolising teenage rebellion, the largest wall had a simply framed landscape painting hung across it. Instead of a bookshelf that would have charted Aloysius's growth from Dr Seuess to Stephen King to Jonathan Swift, there was a single copy of pride and prejudice as well as the latest Tom Clancy novel sitting on the respective bedside tables for the perusal of guests.

Aloysius Knight was as much a stranger in this house as Schofield himself.

Shane managed a few hours of restless sleep when the door finally creaked open again and Knight slipped into the darkened room. Knight was trying to be careful to not wake him, taking slow, soft steps and hoping not to crash into objects in the dark, so Shane flicked the bedside lamp on to let him know not to bother. Aloysius spun, startled by the light and Shane saw that he was balancing a tray awkwardly laden with two steaming bowls of gumbo and some chunky slices of bread.

"What time is it?" Schofield asked blearily.

"Bit after five," Aloysius replied as he set the tray down on the bed and climbed on after it. "You slept through lunch so I thought you might be a little hungry."

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Knight smirked and dunked a handful of bread in the thick gumbo as Schofield struggled out of the sheets he'd managed to tangle himself in. He was very hungry actually. The sort of hungry where his stomach was filled with nothing but a sharp ache.

"Your parents don't mind you not eating with them?" Shane prompted tentatively as he tucked in.

The way Knight's shoulders stiffened would not have been noticeable to the untrained eye and Schofield was one of perhaps only two individuals who would have picked up on it. His hand, hovering over the gumbo, stilled and he looked up to catch Knight's eye, waiting patiently for an answer he knew wouldn't be easily forthcoming.

"Actually, I think they were glad of an excuse to let me go," Aloysius replied sardonically.

"And you're okay with that?" Shane asked.

Knight shrugged.
"Surprisingly, yes," he said, "I guess I was hoping they'd make some effort for Beth's sake but in truth, I think this is for the best."

He put down his spoon and bread and looked around the unfamiliar room critically before continuing.
"As far as my parents were concerned, their son was either dead or disowned after the incident in the Sudan. They mourned the son they knew and their lives have moved on. Both our lives have moved on. I can't go back to being the boy they brought up, too much has happened for that and we're never going to comfortably fit back into each other's lives."

"Were they upset?" Shane prompted.

"No. They weren't angry, just awkward and that's how I knew it was a lost cause," Knight replied, shaking his head. "Lord knows I've given them enough to be angry about. They're really catholic so I wasn't sure whether you or the things I've done in the past few years were going to be the bigger problem. They weren't angry though because you only fight for things that are worth fighting for."

Shane looked hard at him and found no trace of a lie in his body language. The set of his shoulders was resolute, not resigned. His twisted smile was wry, not regretful. He really did seem to be weathering this storm okay.

"I heard you call me your boyfriend," Shane said, his small grin not quite hiding the laughter behind it.

"Shut up," Knight replied playfully, aiming a chunk of bread at Schofield's head. "You come up with a better word then."

Shane snatched the bread up and tossed it back lightly at Knight's chest before leaning across the tray between them and grabbing onto Knight's collar.
"Boyfriend's fine with me," he said and planted a swift, hard kiss against Aloysius's mouth.

They pulled back quickly however, the bowls of gumbo were mostly finished but they'd still make a good mess if they knocked them over. Knight grabbed the tray and hoisted himself off the bed, heading towards the stairs but stopping in the doorway, he looked back at Shane.

"I'm glad we came," he said straightforwardly, "I'm glad I got to see that they're okay and they got to see me finally getting my shit together. It's like a sense of an ending that we all knew had to happen."

Then he disappeared out the door and down the stairs before Shane could reply.

It was a good hour before he returned and Schofield was already dozing again when he came back in and slipped warm under the covers, pressing up against Schofield's back. He smelt of formula and baby shampoo and an undercurrent of the strong unidentifiable spice that was Knight, so Shane guessed he'd been getting Beth ready for bed.

"What do you say we get the early flight out of here tomorrow and go and visit some puppy breeders instead?" Knight muttered into the back of Shane's neck. His breath was warm against the sensitive skin and his body, pressed against Schofield's spine, bled heat into him.

Then he added, words pressed right into Schofield's skin like a searing brand, "This is also our last chance to have naughty try-not-to-be-caught sex in my parents' house."

Shane didn't even need to look to know he was grinning wickedly.