April 7th

Peter woke as the sunlight streamed in through his bedroom window. He could hear the priests talking and going through their early morning routines. The voices were pieces of his childhood wafting up to him from below. Sometimes he could put names to the voices, but he could always put a face to the sound. He could remember what they had taught him, snippets of memory from living in the temple and it made him smile.

As promised his father was seated on the floor beside his bed, keeping vigil. "You didn't stay awake all night did you, Pop."

"Yes." He answered with a shrug.

"I don't suppose I have any of my clothes here?" Peter asked. Physically things felt real enough. Mentally it was like he was walking through a dream world.

"In the dresser and the closet. I brought all that I thought you would need from the… storage unit."

"That is what she did with my things, huh? Well, I guess it beats abandoning them in the apartment. Which is no longer mine I guess."

"When you are ready we can find you your own place again. Until then please consider this your home."

Peter got out of bed and went to pick out his clothes for the day "You never realize how much you take for granted in life… like your own clothes, or being able to go for a walk when you want." Or feeling safe. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." He quickly got dressed. He didn't know what would happen if he did leave. Would he be taken again, would the cult come after his father and the other priests while he was gone? No, he wasn't going anywhere just yet.

Caine got to his feet. "I was not worried." Not about that anyway. They walked down the stairs to the main floor.

"It really is a miniature temple isn't it," Peter said, smiling. He was greeted by the priests individually as he encountered them. He made sure to thank each one. They may not have realized how much danger they had been in going up against the cult, but Peter did. He also knew what they had saved him from. There were indeed fates worse than death. He well imagined that he would have spent the rest of his life being pawed by Miranda until he was as twisted and evil as she was.

"If you're hungry, there is pineapple fried rice." Master Khan said.

"Thank you," Peter said and found two bowls in the cupboard. He handed one to his father.

"I can make you something more if you prefer."

"No, this is perfect." Peter said, "It is absolutely perfect." He remembered this being a treat when he was a boy. Even if he didn't care for rice by itself, this he loved. He dished up some of the rice, found a set of chopsticks, and leaned against the wall to eat. "Thank you, Master Khan."

Paul Blaisdell entered the building as promised, before going in to work. He found his son in the kitchen. "You look better." He said, but he still didn't look good yet. He supposed it would take quite some time for his son to recover from what he had been put through. He knew there were things that Peter wasn't telling them. Things that were either too painful or too humiliating to talk about. He knew a thing or two about how hard it was to come back to the real world after a living nightmare. This was not going to be easy.

"I'm getting there," Peter said with a shrug. "I slept last night. With both eyes closed."

"Your mother sends her love, it took an hour of arguing with her to convince her to stay put for the time being. Of course, she won't be satisfied until she hears your voice but she understands that won't be just yet."

"I'd write to her but I guess that wouldn't be the same" It wasn't like she could look at his handwriting and know it was him. Braille was impersonal that way he guessed.

"Wouldn't hurt." He said "You can write it in script and your sisters can read it to her. You never did get the hang of the braille typewriter."

"I can do that." He said with a nod. "I saw the explosion yesterday, from the tower. Are there any survivors?"

"I called in before I came over here. Out of 150 people reported to be in the building, rescue teams have so far brought out 30. They're still working, Of course, Miranda Gray is playing the heroine of the day. Providing support services and space in her building for a field hospital." He shook his head "The mayor chose last night to fall off the wagon which just makes her look that much better in the eyes of the press."

"Miranda Gray wouldn't give someone so much as a smile unless it got her something in return. The woman is evil incarnate. Even Nag called her evil."

"I suspected as much. I'm beginning to think you're right that I'm not going to be able to make anything stick as far as she's concerned. Yet. I'm not giving up on being able to put her behind bars." He didn't know what to make of the whole Nag situation. Invisible snake gods were well beyond his pay grade. He preferred enemies that didn't sound like they were straight out of a horror movie. Although under the circumstances he preferred the idea that there was an invisible snake god to the idea that his son had been driven insane.

"I think she moved me and the statue out of the building because there were going to be too many strangers in and out of there. It wouldn't surprise me if the penthouse was sanitized and the … the… " He drew in a deep breath and let it out. "The cell I was kept in initially… it's probably all been cleared and cleaned."

"I agree. I'm sorry Peter."

"For what? She's not the first offender that got away with it." He said "And you don't need to be in her crosshairs. Not until we figure out how to defeat her."

"Kermit and I were investigating her already. We thought she was involved in some sort of money laundering scheme. But with all of this going on with the bombing, I think she's garnering goodwill. The money wasn't coming back to her once it was spent. She overpaid people who were about ready to go into bankruptcy so that they could get out of debt and keep their businesses."

"That doesn't sound like the Miranda I know… So she's buying goodwill from businessmen, and then gets to be the hero by working tirelessly in front of the press… what does she get out of all this goodwill though." Peter finished his rice and then cleaned the bowl and fork, setting it in the dish drain rack.

"I don't know but it can't be good for Bayview. On the plus side, she's going to be too busy for a few days to do anything about your escape."

"She'd never get her hands dirty anyway. That's what she has Kline and Hendricks for."

"Hendricks is dead. He's the one that tried to shoot your father."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Peter said and sighed. "Kline at least had a reason to be spiteful. I beat the crap out of him and shamed him in front of the leader of their cult, twice. Hendricks didn't need a reason."

"They put guards on you that you could best?"

"I think they were there just so that someone could get me out if there was a fire. And at first, I couldn't, best them I mean. Once she had established my worst nightmare, I think she thought I was broken. Maybe I was, I don't know."

"You are not," Caine said, gently, but firmly.

"Yeah well once I had a light to keep on, I did," Peter said. "You can't imagine how glad I was for those candles last night. Anyway, once she'd made it clear that any infraction at all would land me back in … back in the darkness… with those phantom snakes… she started teaching me their martial art. They call it Elapidae. Which I think is another word for snake but anyway. I was supposed to be in this fight-or-die contest to prove that I was worthy of being hollowed out to make room for Nag … " He shuddered. " So I got good at it. Can't escape or be rescued if you're dead."

Master Khan looked at Peter a moment. "Can you teach us?" He asked "We encountered that form when we came for you. I for one would like to know how the enemy fights." Some people meditated through trauma, and Some talked. But men like Peter needed to work, to do something, to feel like themselves again.

"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles," Peter said.

"You were listening in class." Master Khan said with a smile.

"You know every parent-teacher meeting I went to I got the same story. He never listens in class, but he always passes the tests." Paul said.

"I keep telling people I'm listening. Can I help it if my face lies?" Peter asked and laughed a little. "But yes, I will teach it to you if you want to know. I can't think of a better revenge than teaching people I care about how to protect themselves against those bastards."

"And they are everywhere in Bayview. I know they've infiltrated the police in New River City." Paul said.

"Yeah well be careful out there. Miranda knows you're one of my fathers. She won't be afraid to use you or hurt you." She had promised to leave his family alone if he behaved. That had been a lie.

"I'll be careful, and right now she's busy playing at being the hero of the hour," Paul said "Speaking of which I need to get to the precinct. They'll all be glad to know you're safe. I'd expect them to start dropping by. I have your badge and service revolver. Let me know when you want them back."

"I will." Peter said, "Be careful out there, and I love you."

When Paul was gone, Caine said "I sensed reluctance."

"I don't know what's going to happen." Peter said "Right now, I'm scared and no one who's afraid of shadows should carry a gun. That and I'm starting to understand your itchy feet, Pop."

"Don't call me Pop," Caine said, in a gentle tone. "We will discuss… itchy feet… later."

Miranda was furious. "You let yourselves be defeated by Shaolin priests? At Nag's feet no less."

"We have never encountered such priests before. They are usually unwilling to do harm, these priests fought like tigers."

"Yes, yes, tigers and cranes and maybe even a tiny little praying mantis." She mocked. "You have cost Nag greatly… not to mention me." She said. "Peter Caine was to be rescued after he was made Nag's physical form on earth. He was to cement my bid for power. Now he has the power to destroy it."

"We warned you about this choice," Kevin Thompson said and had to fight the urge to shrink away from the look on her face.

" I am not the one who lost him. You were in charge of keeping him captive for the ritual, you were in charge of protecting Nag, and you failed." She said. "And now you seek to blame your failure on me and a man in a cage suspended 30 feet in the air."

"I did not mean to offend, Nagaina." He said bowing his head.

"Did you not?" She asked with a deceptive purr. "I thought I just heard you admonish me that your wisdom was greater than mine?" She walked around Thompson "Yes… is that not what he said, Donnelly?"

Sean Donnelly Bowed his head and took two steps back "He spoke with disrespect, but he also spoke the truth."

"Yes, he did warn me of my choice in consort and host for Nag. But Peter Caine did not rescue himself." She said. "That happened on your watch. Someone among you let the location leak."

"They were Shaolin," Thompson said.

"Shaolin, yes, But you speak of them like they were Shamballa masters. Magically capable of not only besting you all but also of divining the exact location of Nag and his avatar." She said, "Are you not all trained to best the Shaolin?"

"It wasn't that simple." Thompson continued "If you had-"

Miranda reached up and snapped his neck. No one else said a word.

"Find him." She said "And deal with that. " She indicated Thompson's lifeless body. "I have to get back to pretending to be Mother Theresa."

Blaisdell had spent the majority of the day at the bomb site. Out of 150 people they had managed to save 110. The majority of those were in Gray Industries tower. Only the most severely injured were sent to the hospitals. Some were life-flighted to New River City.

He walked through the triage center, inwardly seething that this was where his son had been kept prisoner for months and he had never known.

"Captain Blaisdell, what can I do for you?" Miranda asked as she approached.

He knew she was testing the water, gauging his reaction to her and this place. So he smiled. " I was just checking on the survivors. This is quite impressive. You threw this together so quickly, it almost seemed pre-planned. "

"It was actually. There have been earthquakes in the region after all. Admittedly I expected we would need this for helping my own people, but well, things are needed when they are needed."

"Well, I for one am grateful." He said. "Many of those first responders were my people."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad to have been able to help."

"I don't suppose you've seen the Mayor. He was supposed to be here this morning."

"I think he's still… intoxicated." She said, appearing to be embarrassed. "I think this crisis did him in, poor man. Anyway, I believe he is over in room 3 hooked up to some electrolytes."

"Thank you, Miss Gray." He said and walked away toward Room three. He thought he deserved a medal for not choking the life out of her. But he couldn't afford to let her know that he knew anything about Peter. As it was he was going to have to be careful when he went to Chinatown to make sure he wasn't followed.

He nodded to the attending nurse as he entered and went in search of Mayor Conlin. The middle-aged politician was seated in a back corner, with an IV in his arm. "How are you feeling Your Honor."

"I've been better. More humiliated than anything else. I don't know what to say."

"You'll think of something, I'm sure. Harold Cavenaugh hasn't been seen since yesterday." He said referring to the deputy mayor. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"

He shook his head "No, I'm sure his wife could tell you."

"Actually no, she's the one that asked us to look for him. Normally we wouldn't be able to look into a disappearance for 48 hours, but with things being the way they are, the commissioner wants us to find him ASAP. "

"I am surprised that he isn't here, to be honest. I guess he wanted to distance himself from my… falling off the wagon. It's political suicide at best."

"Politics were never my long suit."

"I have noticed that Paul. It's why you're not the commissioner." He shook his head "Any word on your stepson?"

"What? Oh, my foster son. No, nothing at all. My wife and I have given up hope, I'm sorry to say. Thank you for asking. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Conlin shook his head. "No. I think I've done enough all on my own." He said dejectedly. "You know the worst thing about all of this? I have no memory of getting drunk in the first place."

Peter spent the day teaching the priests the katas he had learned. He had only learned five. He honestly didn't know if that meant there were only five or if that was only as far as they could teach in two months. He found it strange that he had learned the form so quickly. Desperation was rarely a good teacher. Was it because of Nag being present in his mind?

A little after six, while the priests were in meditation, he sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at his coffee cup.

"Are you alright, My Son?" Caine asked as he sat down at the table.

Peter drew in a sharp breath as he was pulled out of his musings and back into the real world. "I don't know, Dad. I don't." He said. "It doesn't feel real yet."

"It will take time." He said.

"Patience has never been my long suit," Peter said.

Caine shrugged. "No one ever said that contentment was required for patience. Merely tolerance and perseverance. Both of which you have demonstrated."

Peter almost smiled. "Only when there was no choice."

"When there is a choice, patience is not needed."

Peter stared at the full cup of now cold coffee, then closed his eyes for several seconds. When he opened them again he couldn't meet his father's gaze. "She said that I'm tainted. I think she might be right."

"What have you done that would taint your soul?"

"I'm carrying a piece of Nag in my head. An enemy of all things Shaolin. What if I'm a Trojan horse, Pop?"

"You are not." He said.

"How do you know? I don't even know, how can you." Peter shook his head. "She said that I had a destiny, but that because of this taint I wouldn't be allowed to fulfill it. She said she took me to keep me …neutralized."

"Destiny cannot be allowed or not allowed, Peter. No one has control of anyone's destiny. Not even their own. Not every great deed is destiny, nor is great pain and sorrow."

"She talked about a prophecy…"

"Prophesy is not the same as destiny. Prophesy can be averted. Unless of course, it is destiny. Many prophecies have been averted simply by good people doing that which must be done."

"Or by the bad guys making sure they can't," Peter said. "Can someone be pulled out of their… path."

"Yes, but that does not mean that they cannot return to their proper path if they wish. The only one that can see your path is you, my Son, and there will be times that your path is obscured even from you."

"Did you find your path?" Peter asked, looking up to study his father's face.

Caine reached out to touch his son's cheek. "Yes."