Pounding loudly on the door, Lucas shifted Michael's weight to the other arm. It was still raining and he protected the boy from the weather best he could. The outside light finally came on and the door opened to reveal Nathan and Kristin, wearing their robes and matching annoyed expressions.

The expressions turned to surprise when they saw who their visitor was. "Lucas! It's 3 am. What's wrong, where's Michael?" the Captain exclaimed, alarmed.

Pushing the blanket away from Michael's face, Lucas showed him to the others. "Michael's really sick, Kristin. I wasn't sure what to do."

Pushing her way forward past Nathan, Kristin glanced down at the boy, and waved Lucas in the house. "Come in. Put him on the couch in the living room." She led the way, with Lucas following her and Nathan bringing up the rear.



Gently, Lucas placed the boy on the couch and unwrapped the blanket. "He's been throwing up and he's really hot. Maybe we should call an ambulance? Do you think it's food poisoning? Meningitis?" He fussed over the boy, smoothing his hair down, caressing his cheek.

Kristin had to move the concerned man out of her way. "Let me take a look at him. It's probably only a stomach virus." Catching Nathan's eye, she motioned at Lucas and tipped her head towards the door.

It took a long minute for Nathan to understand her and he wrapped an arm around Lucas' shoulder. "Let's get you dried off and Kristin can do her mothering bit," he suggested, manhandling the younger man out of the room, towards the downstairs bathroom.

After changing his clothes for the third time that day, Lucas stood in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a cup of tea. All thoughts of sleep were gone, as he examined Michael's art work, which decorated the walls and cabinets. Nathan lounged casually in a chair at the table, watching Lucas wander. The tension between them was tight and Nathan knew Lucas was avoiding getting close to him. There was so much that they needed to discuss but Nathan didn't know where to start.

"I'm still angry at you," Lucas started abruptly, his attention focused on the backyard, his back to the Captain. "Why did you lie to me?"

"Technically, I guess you could say I didn't lie. I do think of Michael as my grandson," Nathan started lightly. "And the nanny was too sick to take care of him. That's how Kristin ended up with him."

Whirling around suddenly, Lucas dropped into a chair next to him, shooting a 'give me a break' look. "OK, let's try this. Why didn't you tell me Michael was my son?"

A solemn expression on his face, Nathan lowered his gaze and rubbed the edge of the table. "There are so many reasons, Lucas. In the beginning, it just ...happened. When you came to the island after Hyperion, you were so frightened, having come back from such a nightmare. It wasn't exactly the right time to spring something, someone, new on you. And then we had to settle the problems with Macronesia, so I told myself, wait until the time is right."

Taking a sip from his cup, he took a moment to settle his emotions. "Problem was, there was never a right moment. When you sprang your little enlistment surprise on me, all I could think was, what if you died in combat?" Lucas moved, ready to say something, and Nathan put a hand on his arm to stop him. "No. Think about it. I lost my son in combat. What if Michael developed a relationship with you and then you were killed? He's had people in and out of his short life. I couldn't do that to him, or me. You were happy, had a new role in life to play. I wasn't sure how you would react to Michael. After all, you didn't choose to be a father. Your father made that decision for you and remember, I know about your relationship with your father. I was there when he wasn't and I know how you felt towards him."

Catching Lucas' gaze, Nathan looked deep into the blue eyes so that the younger man would know that he was speaking from his heart. "I'm sorry. Sorry if you feel I've cheated you, that I've lied to you, that I've kept your son from you. I love him...and you. I did what I thought was best for both of you, and I hope that someday, you can forgive me." His voice cracking at the last words, he got up to leave but Lucas' voice stopped him before he reached the door.

"I yelled at him. Just like my father yelled at me. And then he was sick and I felt so bad for him, and I had no idea what to do about it." His voice was full of sadness.

Nathan turned back to see Lucas' head in his hands, elbows on the table, shoulders shaking. Days of stress and lack of sleep had finally taken their toll. Going over to the younger man, he slowly massaged Lucas' back, feeling the stiff tension there. As Lucas cried, Nathan kept up a steady stream of comforting words, telling him that everything would work out. Finally, the sobs subsided, and Lucas shifted so he was leaning against the Captain, who pulled him into a bear hug.

"I'll let you in on a secret,"Nathan whispered softly into Lucas' ear. "Parents aren't perfect. You, of all people, should know that. Kids know how to push your buttons, and losing one's temper comes with the territory. It happens. You have to forgive yourself and do the best you can. Kids don't come with instruction manuals."

Kristin walked by them, but neither of the men pulled away from each other. The Doctor began digging into the back of the refrigerator. "Nathan? Have you seen...oh, here it is." She pulled out a bottle, went to the cabinet and picked out a plastic glass and then noticed two sets of eyes looking at her expectantly. "Oh, he's fine. A stomach virus; there was a bug running through the playgroup about two weeks ago. I gave him a shot to control the nausea and he's needs some fluids because of dehydration, but I think we're over the worst of it. I'm going to sleep with him." Her eyes swept over the two of them, and she tried to decide where they were in the explanations and apology department. Judging by Lucas' red eyes, followed by Nathan's repentant expression, they were near the end. "Both of you should go to sleep too. You can't make major life decisions properly when you're exhausted," she said in a no nonsense voice.

With a final pat, Nathan pulled away, but they walked arm and arm, to the second floor, where they both checked on the sleeping boy one last time. Then Nathan went into his bedroom and Lucas collapsed on the bed in the guest room and fell into oblivion.

*******

The sun was rising when Lucas tiptoed down the steps to the front door. Troubled by nightmares with his father as the main character, he hadn't gotten much sleep and decided it would be best for everyone if he left. He was half way down the porch steps when a voice from behind startled him.

"Going so soon? Stay for breakfast at least." Nathan stood in the doorway, dressed, arms folded, a stern expression on his face.

"I can't give him what he needs. I can't give him a stable life, or a big house with a backyard. I don't even know what a play group is or how to take care of him when he's sick," explained Lucas, nervously shifting his weight, arms wrapped around himself. "And I'm so furious at my father right now, I'm afraid it's going to spill over and hurt Michael." He hesitated, not willing to face the rest of it.

Bridger, sensing that there was something else, moved closer, so he was standing only inches away but not touching. "There's something else," he urged gently.

Bowing his head, Lucas ran his hand through his hair. "What if...what if I turn out like my father? What if I act the same way?" he whispered in a low voice, his worst fear finally said out loud.

"Oh, Lucas," the Captain sighed. Putting a hand on the younger man's cheek, he lifted Lucas' face up so he could look him in the face. "There's no way you could be like your father. Stay with us," he encouraged. "We can work things out."

A small spark of hope ignited within Lucas but he quickly extinguished it. No, this is what needed to be done and for once, he had to be adult enough to do the right thing. Shaking his head, he pulled away. "Hell, Captain, I don't even know how old I am anymore. I'm still rebuilding my old life and I have nothing to offer a child." The lump in his throat growing, he moved quickly to the car and started the engine. Out the window, he yelled, "Tell Michael I...."

But Captain didn't hear the end of the sentence over the motor roaring. Damn it, kid, you sweep in here and then you run out, leaving me to pick up the pieces. Disheartened, he walked to the house where Kristin was standing in the doorway and they embraced, comforting each other.