CHAPTER 28: RESPONSIBILITY

The next morning, Hogan delivered a tongue lashing for insubordination and Newkirk found himself on KP for a week. But Hogan was chastened, too, because he knew his mistake had been costly. The burden of his new role of guardian was weighing heavily on his mind. After a full day of watching Newkirk looking sullen and avoiding him at every turn, he knew he was going to have to level with the boy.

Hogan did so when the new morning arrived. The other men were lining up for their weekly trip to the showers when Hogan pulled Newkirk out of the queue. "You can go with the last group," he said. "We need to talk."

Newkirk sat at the table in Hogan's office expecting the worst. He'd mouthed off to the one man who could send him back home. Maybe home wasn't so bad, he thought as he fretted. He didn't have to go to Scotland. He could run as soon as he hit English soil and make a living somehow. If he picked some pockets and did some black market jobs fast, he could make enough money to keep Nora in insulin for a while even if he did get caught. And if he ended up in Borstal, that wouldn't be horrible either, except for the canings. The Glasshouse, though… he didn't like the thought of that one bit. Could he be dishonorably discharged if he was underage to begin with?

He was fretting intensely when Hogan spoke up.

"I have something to explain to you, Peter," he said. "And this isn't a discussion between an officer and an enlisted man. This is… well, father to son. Do you understand?"

Oh. This might be worse than he imagined, Newkirk thought. His father-son talks had always been painful. He winced as he thought of hot red cinders and sizzling pink skin.

"Listen," Hogan said softly. "I make mistakes too. I thought I had all the details sewn up with Agent Willow, and I did—right up until the moment I fell for her. This tendency to give in to temptation—it's something I have to work on, Peter."

Newkirk just stared for a moment, trying to make sense of the fact that Hogan had just admitted a shortcoming. This was nothing like a father-son talk. Was it a trick? He didn't know how to respond, but he knew he needed to fill in the silence, so he finally spoke. "I know it's difficult…"

"I'm not sure you do know, Peter. When you're a little older…"

Those words were a trigger. When you're older, you'll understand. Oh, please. Peter Newkirk understood plenty right now. More than he wanted to know, actually.

"I don't have to be older to understand that. You were my age once, Sir. I know what the sight of a woman does to a lad like me, and waiting for that … fffffeeling to go away is not exactly easy," Newkirk replied. "For a mmmman l-like you, with more… well, experience. I expect that once you've had it, you…" The words trailed off. He really had no idea what he was saying except that seeing girls filled him with urgency, and he didn't expect that to change. He'd have to talk more to LeBeau; he seemed to know more about how to control oneself in the face of opportunity.

Hogan smiled softly. "Yes, I do remember what it was like to be your age. My point, Peter, is that I let you down. All of you, but particularly you. I forgot for a minute that I had responsibilities that are even bigger than my command."

"You don't owe me nothing, Sir, and certainly not an apology. Like you said, I was out of line." Backing down while looking tough was second nature to Peter Newkirk.

"You were scared," Hogan said. "When I didn't come back, you were scared."

Newkirk shrugged, his head down. Why did Hogan have to say things like that? His fist had made its way under his nose again and he was stroking the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Finally he looked up at Colonel Hogan and realized that, once again, he'd better say something. And seeing how earnestly Hogan was looking at him, he went with a dash of sincerity. "A bit, yes," he said.

That was as much as he could admit out loud, but the fact was that Newkirk had been terrified. Colonel Hogan was out on his own that night. He was supposed to be back by midnight. It had gone past three AM and there was still no sight of him. Kinch and LeBeau kept telling him not to worry, but he could hear the doubt in their voices. He was annoyed that somehow Carter was managing to sleep through it, completely confident that things would be fine. Newkirk never felt that confidence. Not ever, and especially when the Gov was missing at three in the morning. And if he didn't come back, who would take care of… well, the whole bloody operation?

"If you're ever that scared again, you can tell me or Kinch or LeBeau," Hogan said gently. "Saying the words will help."

Newkirk frowned at that. Words, in his experience, were nothing but a minefield.

Hogan continued. "But what you can't do is what you did. You can't question my decisions and undermine my authority in front of others. You understand what the chain of command is, and you know I have to make hard decisions and take the biggest risks."

"Yes, Sir," Newkirk said. He was feeling overwhelmed now, unable to find any words to express the stew of emotion that was bubbling inside of him. He wanted to escape. "Can I go to the showers now?"

Hogan consulted his watch. "Not yet. They'll be going for at least 15 minutes longer. I need you to understand this, Peter. If you ever have anything of a personal nature to address with me again, do it privately. I will listen, and I'll even discuss it with you, but not if you're attacking me. Do you understand that?"

Newkirk shook his head, less sure than he had ever been of exactly where he stood. He'd just been scolded by someone who hadn't even yelled at or hit him. What did that mean?

Hogan saw his confusion, stood, and opened his arms.

"Come here," he said. He wrapped his arms around his boy and held him tight. Protecting another person was harder than Hogan had ever realized. It wasn't about just keeping Peter physically safe. It was about calming his fears. It was, as LeBeau had said, demonstrating other qualities. Steadiness. Guidance. Trust. Attention. Forgiveness. And, Hogan realized, all those requirements worked both ways. He'd been away from home for years, yet at this moment Hogan wished harder than he ever had that he could talk to his own father for advice.

Newkirk melted into the hold and held his tears in with all his might. He gripped Colonel Hogan as if he was a rock in a storm. Maybe things would be alright after all.

"If you didn't come back, I'd have to come and find you," Newkirk said as he listened to Hogan's heartbeat and breathed him in.

"You don't have to do that, because I'll always come back," Hogan said. He had no idea how he was going to stand by that promise, but somehow he was going to have to. He petted Newkirk's hair, then released him from the grip. "Go on, now, take your shower. And make sure you use soap."

As he watched Newkirk pick up his towel, smile, and go, Hogan sat back as memories flooded his mind. Sometimes, he recalled, words weren't what a boy needed. He needed his father's embrace.

And he heard a voice speaking to him. "That's the way, Robert. You're going to be a fine father."

"Thanks, Dad," he whispered.