Chapter Four: Of Rank and the Distinctions Thereof

The door to Commander Holleran's office was partially open, but Greg still paused and rapped on the wood. At the call to "Enter," the lieutenant nudged the door further open and stepped inside. The commander looked up from where he was standing near his desk, taking in his two visitors. Dark brows drew together in disapproval. "Lieutenant Parker, why are you carrying a child around?"

In his arms, Sam's eyes went wide with shock. Craning his neck to look up, he blurted, "You're a lieutenant, sir?"

Greg buried his wince and forced himself to ignore Commander Holleran's glare as he focused on his miniature constable. "Yes, I am," he replied. Glancing up at Holleran, Parker added, "Commander, this is Sam." At his superior's horrified freeze, the officer finished with the punch line, even as the blond in his arms saluted both of them. "Sam Braddock."

For a moment, the tall commander gawked, then pulled himself together with a snap. "Be that as it may, Lieutenant, you are not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than a laptop right now."

"I'm fine, sir," Greg lied, but he knew the other man didn't buy it. Not with the pained grimace breaking through and the way his arms were beginning to tremble.

Rather than arguing, Commander Holleran swept over, pulling Sam out of his arms. Before he had time to do more than squeak in surprise, the young constable was deposited on the chair Holleran hooked out from behind his desk. Youngster dealt with, the commander turned back to Greg and thrust him down in the guest chair, narrowing his eyes to silence any objections. Parker kept his mouth shut; his boss's displeasure was almost tangible and he had a feeling he was already on thin ice as it was – because carrying around a four or five-year-old child definitely counted as 'pushing it'.

"Greg. From the beginning," Commander Holleran ordered, shifting to lean against his desk and view both of his guests.

"Not much to tell, sir," Greg replied. "When I came in this morning, I found Sam in the locker room with just a t-shirt on." An uncomfortable shift. "Ed kept all the stuff from my locker, so I texted him for the combination and put Sam in one of the outfits I still had from Lance's…um…adventure."

The black man nodded, catching onto Greg's reluctance to mention magic or the De-Aging aspect of the situation in front of Sam. He flicked a glance at the attentive blond. "Young man, how old are you?"

Sam sat straighter, chin rising in obvious pride. "I'm five, Commander, sir."

Dark eyes scanned him, noting that the clothing Greg had had on hand fit perfectly. "Lieutenant?"

One shoulder hiked. "Lance is fairly big for his age. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up as tall as Ed and as broad as Wordy; he's halfway there now as it is."

Commander Holleran allowed a low hum, absorbing the argument. Although Sam was fairly average for a five-year-old, Lance's larger stature meant clothing purchased for his four-year-old self fit Sam's average just fine. "Any ideas?"

Parker sighed and held out the potion vial. "Sam found this, but he doesn't remember anything beyond waking up in the locker room, sir." Shaking the vial lightly, Greg continued, "I suggest we have Constable Sciuto check this out and see if she can figure out how long it will last. Assuming it's similar to what was used on Lance, it should run out in a few days; we just have to get through those few days."

Holleran nodded, eyeing the vial balefully. "And if it's not?"

"Let's not borrow trouble, sir," Greg countered, although his own stomach was twisted up with the same fears and doubts. "I think the bigger problem is…"

"…Team One," Commander Holleran finished. "They're two down now."

"Maybe this is a good time for them to start looking for a new teammate," Parker suggested, ignoring the wrench inside his chest at the idea of being replaced. "They can get their initial impressions of the candidates and hold off on a final decision until this is over."

To his surprise, Commander Holleran hesitated, then shook his head. "Greg, I was going to wait on this, but…"

Parker's eyes widened. "Commander, you're not going to give Team One a permanent exception to the seven-man rule, are you?" Unfeigned horror rang.

Amusement pinned him. "Greg, you've been in this unit long enough to remember when we only had six-man teams."

And he remembered when that policy had changed, too. "Sir," Greg protested. "I might've been a rookie back then, but I remember the difference once we had an extra man on each team."

"Team One has been doing just fine with six," Commander Holleran countered without a flicker. "I'll apprise you of the reasoning behind my decision later, but for now, I'll assign Team One to secondary for today and take that potion vial over to be examined." Dark eyes assessed both lieutenant and De-Aged constable. "Has Sam eaten?"

"Yes, sir," Sam piped up. "The Lieutenant gave me his lunch, sir."

And that right there in a nutshell was why it was a lousy idea to make your son refer to you with your rank, Greg thought sourly. Sam had just equated him to General Braddock, a comparison he would've happily forfeited. From the faint grimace on Commander Holleran's face, his boss had also picked up on the undertones, but thankfully moved on. "Lieutenant Parker, I have no problem with you looking after Sam, but I don't want you carrying him at all! That is absolutely against your doctor's orders and I have no problems with removing you from duty indefinitely if I have to. Am I understood, Lieutenant Parker?"

"Yes, sir," Greg replied, resisting the urge to salute. His shoulders slumped a touch. "I take it the plans for today are off?"

"Postponed at the very least," Commander Holleran replied. "Once Team One gets in, talk the situation over with them and figure out a plan for today." The commander paused, frowning in thought. "I'll have Winnie call in either Team Three or Team Four; I don't want Team One going out while they're down two." Another pause as Holleran tapped his chin, frown deepening. "In that case… Well, we'll see, Lieutenant."

Parker nodded acceptance and stood up, reaching out one hand to Sam; the little blond slipped off the commander's chair and scrambled to Greg's side, taking the offered hand.

Commander Holleran rubbed at his mouth to hide his smile, though Greg still saw it. Then he straightened as a thought struck. "Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir?" Greg asked, right before cringing as the same thought occurred to him. "Oh! It fits just fine, sir." The officer made a note to ask about the budget and Holleran's requisition plans later, preferably away from a certain perceptive blond's ears.

"Good; I'll arrange for another few sets, then."

Another nod and Parker led Sam out of the office. Outside, the negotiator was less than amused when Sam flatly refused to let Greg pick him up again.

The lieutenant cleared the lunch dishes away from the briefing room and took them back to his car. Sam trotted along behind him, determinedly keeping up in spite of his young age and short legs. With the dishes dealt with, Greg took Sam back inside the barn to wait for the rest of Team One to arrive. Despite his former team's late night, Parker knew they'd be in, cranky and ragged around the edges, but still ready and raring to keep the peace.

While they were waiting, Greg took Sam over to the dispatcher's desk. Behind the counter and unable to see his companion, Winnie beamed at him. "Welcome back, sir!"

Seizing the opening, Parker shot Winnie a chiding look. "Now, now, Winnie; don't call me 'sir', I work for a living."

The dispatcher laughed at the old, well-worn joke. "Yes, Lieutenant Parker, sir," she replied.

Greg shook his head in mock dismay and leaned against the counter. "Winnie, like I told Kira, you can keep calling me 'Sarge', if you want."

Winnie smiled, but didn't reply directly. "What can I do for you, sir?"

Internally, Greg sighed, but refocused on the problem at hand. "Winnie, do we have a few smaller chairs hiding somewhere around here?"

"I think so," Winnie said. "Do we need one?"

"Yeah, we do," the negotiator replied, jerking his head towards a curious Sam.

Winnie leaned forward, dark eyes widening at the sight of the five-year-old blond constable. A soft gasp escaped. "Sir, is that…?"

"Sam," Greg told her in an undertone. "I found him in the locker room this morning. Team One doesn't know yet."

Distress darkened Winnie's eyes, but she nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll find a chair for him and bring it to the briefing room."

"Thanks, Winnie." Turning back to Sam, Greg ushered the blond back into the briefing room and swung him up in a chair until Winnie could find a smaller one.

"Not supposed to, sir," Sam protested.

"I'm not supposed to carry you," the lieutenant countered. "Commander Holleran never said I couldn't help you get in a chair."

The blond frowned, but couldn't think of a counter-argument. With a slight huff, Sam crossed his arms and looked away, though he couldn't quite bring himself to glare. "Yes, sir," he said in a sulky tone.

Greg bit back a smile and mentally chalked up the slight rebellion as a win. The two sat in silence for a few minutes until Winnie arrived with a smaller, child-sized chair for Sam to use. The dispatcher put it right next to the briefing chair furthest from the door, rightly guessing that Parker would want to keep the five-year-old constable tucked inside the room and away from a high traffic area. Once the chair was in place, Sam slid off the briefing room chair and moved to the new chair, tossing Greg a borderline defiant look as he did so.

The officer chuckled at the miniature constable's antics and turned to the dispatcher. "Thanks for your help, Winnie."

Smiling herself, Winnie nodded. "Of course, sir." For a moment, the two adults stood awkwardly, then the dispatcher moved forward and flung her arms around Parker, hugging him fiercely. Greg returned the hug, feeling Winnie tremble in his grasp. "I'm glad you're alive, sir," she whispered.

"I am, too," Greg replied, not fighting Winnie's hold. Reluctantly, he asked, "Do you have any questions for me?"

Winnie pulled back, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes. "No, sir; Commander Holleran told us what happened."

The lieutenant froze. "He did?"

The dispatcher smiled sadly. "Yes, sir. He didn't want us bugging you and dragging you through that over and over again."

Parker wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he could appreciate that his boss had been trying to make things easier for him as he rejoined the SRU. "All right, Winnie. Commander Holleran took the potion vial Sam found over for Constable Sciuto to look at. Could you let me know as soon as we hear anything back from her?"

"Yes, sir," Winnie agreed. At the negotiator's badly hidden wince, her smile turned genuine. "We need a new nickname for you, sir."

"I don't think Wordy's ever going to give up on 'Sarge'," Greg countered.

She laughed. "Maybe for the right nickname he would," she teased. Turning serious again, Winnie asked, "Sir, do you need an early warning when Team One gets here?"

Greg considered for a minute, then shook his head. "Not today, Winnie, but thank you."

"Any time, sir," Winnie replied before she left to go back to her desk.

As he and Sam waited for the rest of Team One to arrive, Greg felt rather bad for the five-year-old blond; there was nothing for Sam to do nor any toys for him to play with. Even worse, the little boy sat quietly, as though it was normal for him to be left without any entertainment and expected to behave impeccably, like a perfect soldier. Sadly, there was nothing Greg could do to alleviate the situation, so he turned his attention back to the problem at hand.

Assuming it was just a run-of-the-mill De-Aging Potion, all they had to do was wait the situation out. It would be embarrassing for Sam once the potion wore off, but the situation was survivable. Annoying, not life-threatening. Their biggest problem would be finding Sam's attacker, especially if Sam had been hit from behind and hadn't seen his attacker. Perhaps one of their Auror coworkers could find traces of their mystery attacker? Simple and yet Greg's sixth sense was pinging. There was no reason to think that Sam had been dosed with anything other than a regular De-Aging Potion, but he was still uneasy.

Inside, the 'team sense' vibrated as Ed's link lit up. 'Greg? You wanna tell me why you put somebody else's clothes in my locker?'

The lieutenant winced. 'Can I get a rain check on that, Eddie? Long enough for everyone to get here?'

Ed groaned, the sound traveling down the 'team sense' just as his grumbles earlier had. 'Don't tell me we've got another magic-side problem to deal with. You haven't even been back a month!'

'Crime waits for no man,' Greg replied as jauntily as he could.

'Gee, thanks, Boss. I really needed to hear that first thing in the morning.'

Parker smiled to himself, opting not to argue the 'Boss' nickname. Although he wasn't a member of Team One any more, he was technically still Ed's boss since Commander Holleran wanted the SRU Sergeants reporting to him. Besides, he was about to thrust Team One's latest magical problem in his friend's lap; the least he could do was let Ed call him 'Boss' if he wanted to.

Fortunately for the sake of Ed's blood pressure, the rest of Team One trickled in at about the same time as their Sergeant, making it out of the locker room en masse. Ed led the way into the briefing room, a flare of concern in blue eyes. "Greg? Have you seen Sam this morning?"

Beside Parker, the blond twitched, shifting in his chair to peer up at the tall, lean, and bald Sergeant. Confusion shone in the boy's eyes, along with a complete lack of recognition. The lieutenant reached out, keeping Sam in his chair with one hand as he stood up. "Yes, Eddie, I have," he replied.

Ed's gaze fell on Sam, horror lighting his face as he took a step back. The rest of Team One followed their Sergeant's eyes and promptly recoiled in equal horror. "Sam?" Jules cried, instinctive plea in her voice as she stepped towards her De-Aged boyfriend.

Before she could take two steps, Sam shot from his chair, clambering up into Greg's grip despite his earlier rebellion. The blond clung to Parker, shaking and trembling as he hid his face in the lieutenant's shirt. Greg dismissed his former teammates as he focused on the little boy, stroking his back and murmuring reassurances. It took several minutes, but Sam finally relaxed enough to loosen his death grip on the officer's uniform, though he stayed huddled up and refused to look around at his company.

Ed paced closer, shadowed by a heartbroken Jules. "Greg, what the heck?" the Sergeant hissed, anger vibrating in his voice.

Sam tensed all over again and Parker shook his head at his former team leader, warning gleaming before he reached for the 'team sense'. 'I don't know what happened, guys. Sam was like this when I came in this morning and found him in the locker room.'

Fresh horror surged on Ed's face. 'That's why you needed the combo to my locker?'

'Yes,' Greg confirmed simply. 'Sam managed to close his own locker before he was attacked, so that's why I put his clothes in your locker, Ed.'

In his arms, Sam whimpered, as though he could hear the telepathic 'team sense' discussion despite the protective magical barrier around him. Parker was forced to return his attention to the little boy as the blond quaked and trembled with fear. Jules ghosted closer, reaching out to touch Sam's back, but he yelped at her touch and tried to squirm away.

"Easy there, sport," Greg soothed. "It's okay, no one's going to hurt you." Despite the reassurances, Sam continued to tremble, cringing away from his teammates and his own girlfriend. It wasn't until Team One retreated several steps that Greg was able to calm the panicked little boy down. Even then, although Sam permitted the men of Team One to edge closer, any attempts by Jules to move closer brought the blond to the point of tears as he fruitlessly tried to climb over Greg's shoulder and hide behind him.

Bewildered by the miniature constable's reaction to his own teammates, Greg backed up a step, gesturing Team One to back up as well. "Sam?" he coaxed. "What's the problem, sport?" The blond shook his head fiercely, refusing to look up or respond. "No, Sam," Greg chided. "Talk to me; what's the problem?"

The little face scrunched. "Doesn't feel right, sir," he whimpered. One hand patted his chest. "Not right inside."

Oh, fiddlesticks. Greg's shoulders slumped and he sighed aloud. Inwardly, he eased down the magical barrier keeping Sam protected from the links, letting the 'team sense' unfurl once more. He was unsurprised when Sam immediately relaxed, though it took another minute or two before he would look up and around at his teammates. One at a time, Team One edged closer, wary of frightening the De-Aged blond. Jules was the slowest to approach, still upset over Sam's reaction to her.

To Greg's dismay, although Sam didn't cringe away from Jules, he regarded her with a polite disinterest, paying far more attention to the male officers. The lieutenant could see the hurt in the brunette's eyes; despite knowing that this wasn't her Sam, Jules' heart wasn't so easily convinced. Then an odd silver gleam shone in Jules' eyes, a gleam mirrored in all her teammates' eyes.

"What. Was that?" Spike asked, unconsciously backing up a step.

"Sam's magic," Parker replied.

"No!" Sam protested. "The Lieutenant says magic's bad; I'm not bad, sir, I promise!"

"We hear you, buddy," Lou said, moving forward to be right in front of the blond. "You're not bad at all, Sam. Neither is your magic."

"No! No magic!" Sam wailed, cutting Lou off.

"Lou," Greg murmured. "Let it go; you're not going to change his mind."

Lou's mouth twisted unhappily, but he nodded and stepped back. "Copy, Boss."

Frustrated, Parker reached inwards to the 'team sense', doing his best to only talk to his adult teammates without cutting Sam off from the links. 'Guys, Sam spent his whole childhood being taught that magic's evil and that no one who has magic can be trusted. He knows better now, but not as a five-year-old.'

Wordy started nodding partway through the explanation. 'Sarge's right,' he agreed. 'The De-Aging Potion reverted Sam's memories, so he doesn't really know us. Drop the magic argument; we don't wanna scare him off.'

Greg jerked a nod and flicked a glance at his fellow negotiator. 'I'm sorry, Jules. I didn't realize cutting Sam off from the 'team sense' would scare him like that.'

The brunette managed a faint smile. 'It's okay, Sarge.' Determination lifted her chin and stiffened her spine. Out loud, she asked, "What do we do now, Boss?"

"It should run out on its own," the lieutenant replied. "Constable Sciuto is checking on that right now, but hopefully we just have to get through the next couple of days. Might get a bit tricky, but it should be survivable."

"Or you can return my son to me now, Sergeant Parker," a new voice snarled from the doorway.

Team One turned, forming a protective line between their lieutenant and the newcomer. Greg's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of General Braddock in his military uniform, cover in hand. The elder Braddock was similar in build and appearance to his son, but his face seemed frozen in a permanent scowl with none of Sam's good humor or playful side. His expression wasn't helped by his haughty mien or the thinly disguised disgust on his face.

Greg stood straighter as he held Sam and faced the other man down. Before any of the officers could speak, the little boy saluted. "Lieutenant, sir!"

Blue eyes flashed. "General," the older Braddock snapped. "A soldier always knows his superior's rank, Samuel."

Alarm shone and Sam hung his head. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Yes," the General growled. "You are."

"Enough," Greg snapped, lifting his chin. Hazel blazed as he glared at the other man. "You lost any right to Sam when you chose your prejudices over your own son." A step forward. "And Sam is not a soldier! Don't treat him like one."

General Braddock swelled, chest pumping like a bellows as he advanced. "You dare interfere with how I raise my son, Sergeant Parker?"

"Lieutenant," Greg corrected. At Braddock's thousand-yard glare, he arched an eyebrow, keeping his own expression calm. "It's Lieutenant Parker, General Braddock." Adjusting his stance to hold Sam more securely, the negotiator maintained his even tone. "What brings you here today, General? I was under the impression that you'd disowned your son for choosing to live his own life."

The temperature around them dropped, ice crackling in the air. "That is none of your business, Parker."

His smile was cool and professional. "I think it is, sir." One eyebrow arched. "Sergeant Lane?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"What do you suppose are the odds that General Braddock would pick today of all days to come and visit his son?"

"Slim to none, Boss. Somebody had to tell him what was going on."

Greg nodded thoughtfully without looking away from the General. "That's what I thought, Sergeant." The other eyebrow joined the first. "General Braddock, I agree with my Sergeant. Someone gave you a heads up and I don't care who. You're not taking Sam anywhere; he chose the SRU four years ago and I'm not going to permit you to overrule that decision while he's incapacitated." The smile turned pleasant. "Once the situation is resolved, I'll be sure to tell your son that you visited and you'd like to get back in contact with him."

"That's kidnapping," General Braddock snapped. "I won't permit you to kidnap my son, Parker!"

Not so much as a hair twitched. "General, your son is a legal adult and my subordinate. You can try to make a case for my kidnapping him, but by the time you get someone to listen to you, this situation will be resolved."

"You don't know that," the graying blond growled.

Jules' eyes narrowed. "That sounds like you know what your son was dosed with," she snapped.

"It does," Wordy concurred, a dangerous congeniality in his voice.

"Regardless," Greg intervened, free hand shaping a 'stand down' order. "Unless you have useful information to add to the situation, General Braddock, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Now."

The military man bristled. "Not without my son!" His eyes moved to the bewildered five-year-old in Greg's arms. "Samuel, we are leaving now."

"Yes, sir," Sam replied obediently, trying to squirm out of Greg's grasp.

The lieutenant held the little boy firmly. "No, Sam." Though he was careful to keep from giving the blond a magical order, the 'team sense' flared regardless; Greg flinched inwardly as Sam's own magic curled around him, stilling his attempt to wriggle out of his boss's hold. It was for the best, but Greg hated it nonetheless. Guilt churned in his gut, but never touched his expression as the child settled, unable to understand the magic influencing his actions.

"Let's go, sir," Ed ordered, advancing on General Braddock with Wordy at his shoulder. "Before we have to get your sister involved."

At the threat, even obliquely, of getting Commander Locksley involved, the elder Braddock was forced to admit defeat. Even so, Greg could tell that the older man hadn't truly given up. No, General Braddock was husbanding his efforts and resources, waiting for a better opportunity to retrieve his De-Aged son.

Which meant this situation now needed to be resolved immediately. The lieutenant cast a significant look at Lou, earning a nod from his constable. Then Lou and Spike vanished through the briefing room's other exit while Jules moved to help her Sergeant and her team leader evict General Braddock.

"Sir? Aren't you a lieutenant?"

Ed bit back a smirk as he re-entered the briefing room just in time to hear Sam's question.

"Yes, I am," Greg replied, his voice calm and even, just like always.

The little blond pondered that for a moment. "But the General is…a general! Lieutenants have to listen to generals!"

"Not always, sport," Ed cut in, breezing over to his friends. "Greg, hand him over; I can see you trembling."

"I'm fine, Ed."

"Yeah, but Sam's not gonna be if you drop him," the Sergeant retorted.

Greg hesitated a moment, then sighed and held the De-Aged constable out. The lean, bald sniper wasted no time sweeping Sam up, shifting his own stance to hold the blond comfortably at eyelevel with his teammates. To Ed's surprise, the five-year-old didn't protest being removed from the only adult he seemed willing to trust. In fact, once the Sergeant had Sam settled in his arms, the little boy just let out a breath and leaned his head against his fellow sniper's chest, keen blue darting around at his company.

The lean, bald sniper shifted a few seconds more, getting all his teammates in the miniaturized constable's line of vision. When Ed stopped moving, Sam gazed down rather guiltily. "I'm sorry, sir."

The sniper blinked, confused, but Greg shook his head. "Sam, you were frightened and you reacted. It's a perfectly normal response to retreat to someone you trust. I'm not angry and Commander Holleran won't be either."

Understanding broke through. Commander Holleran had seen the Boss carrying Sam around and scolded him for pushing his limits. Ed suppressed a grimace; even at five, Sam was used to blaming himself for anything and everything that went wrong. From the way Jules' eyes flickered, she saw it, too. It was an insight into the blond that all of them would've happily forfeited, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

"Sam." Greg waited until the little constable looked up. "You're right that most lieutenants can't defy generals, but there are a few times when they can."

"When is that, sir?"

Ed smothered his chuckle, knowing his friend had led Sam straight into the follow up question. "Different chain of command," he replied before his superior could speak. "The General is in the Army and we're SRU."

Sam's nose scrunched, his small face twisting. "What's SRU?"

"Police Strategic Response Unit," Wordy filled in. "But it's more than just a different chain of command, kiddo. The General was ordering us to ignore our ethics and morals, too."

The little boy's expression turned utterly lost. "But he just wanted me."

"Do you want to go with him, Sam?" Jules asked carefully.

The blond's mouth opened, then closed. Tears gathered in his eyes and he curled back against Ed's chest. "No," he admitted, the word torn from the depths, prompted by emotions beyond the five-year-old's ability to comprehend.

The Sergeant quirked a brow at Greg and his boss nodded. Somewhere, deep inside, Sam's memories were fully intact. Inaccessible, but present regardless. Therein lay the biggest reason none of them would hand Sam over to his father; they couldn't risk his true memories getting wiped out. If that happened, then Sam really would have to grow up all over again.