Kwai Chang Caine sat on the meditation mat beside Peter's bed. He had his own room but he had no plans to use it until he was certain his son was alright.

"You don't have to watch me sleep, Pop," Peter said. "I'm okay."

"Does it bother you?" he wasn't going to argue with his son about whether or not he was okay.

"No. Reminds me of when I was sick as a kid and you would stay in my room while I slept. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and find you there." He lay back against his pillow. "But you need sleep too. When's the last time you slept, and I don't mean cat naps or meditation."

"The night before I found out you were in danger." He said honestly. "The barrier that kept me from sensing you was shattered and I felt your terror with such intensity that it rendered me unconscious. I could not conceive of actual sleep after that."

Peter sat up and took his father's hand. "I'm not there anymore, Pop. I'm here, I'm safe, and I'm not going anywhere." He said. "There's an entire house full of monks and priests. I pity anyone that tries to get in here."

Caine laughed quietly. "I suppose so." He said, but he knew all too well that it was no guarantee.

"So Pop… sorry, Dad, " He said when he saw the gentle admonishing look from his father. "when you left after the temple was destroyed did it help?"

"Eventually." He said "At first I was lonely and filled with despair. I had difficulty meditating, or speaking to others, especially people with children." He said, "But in time I was able to…"

"Let it go?" Peter asked. He remembered the principles of Buddhism from the classes he had as a child but also from the books he owned that seemed to endlessly surprise people. He was a fourth Chinese why did people find it so strange that he would be interested in Eastern philosophy?

Caine shook his head "Not in the way you think. I did not let go of you, or the pain of losing you. I let go of the longing for things to be as they were and the sorrow that it never would be again. It was only then that I could look at the past and smile at your memory."

"And the traveling helped?"

"Are you asking if it helped me or if it would help you?" Caine asked studying his son.

"I guess both," Peter said honestly.

"For me, every step became the focus of my meditation, until I could breathe again without aching because you could not." He said. "I do not know if it will help you. I know you are hurting from what was done to you, and that pain is overwhelming."

"I don't feel like myself anymore." He said.

"Change is inevitable, Peter. Do you remember-"

"Dad, I don't want to remember another lesson from the temple." He said sharply, then sighed. "I'm sorry."

Caine considered repeating himself but instead said "Close your eyes, My Son." He could tell that it was with some reluctance, but Peter did as his father requested. "Now imagine a mountain stream, do you see it?"

Peter nodded. "Yes," He imagined a place where he and some of the boys from the orphanage used to go when they were able to slip away from its confines. The Orphanage was the only other place where Peter had ever felt trapped.

"Do you hear the water running over the rocks ?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Imagine yourself stepping into the stream."

"Pop-"

"Imagine yourself stepping into the stream." He repeated, gently. "Do you see your feet in the water? Can you see the water washing over your feet?"

"Yes." He said.

"Now step out," Caine said. He waited a moment. "And back in. Is it the same water?"

Peter opened his eyes, "What?"

"Is it the same water?" He asked again.

"Of course, it is," Peter said.

"The water you stepped in, the water that rushed over your feet, has already flowed downstream. It is impossible to step on the same water twice. It is, however, the same stream." He said.

"That's not comforting, Pop," Peter said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Why not?" He asked.

"My stream is full of snakes." He said quietly.

"My grandfather told the story of walking through a pit of snakes. By being one with nature the snakes knew that my grandfather offered them no harm and so they offered no harm to him in return." He said. "I believe, that you learned to walk among those snakes to survive, and in hope that they would not put you into their darkness once more."

"Yeah. I'm a grown man and I was so afraid of the dark that I was willing to let them do whatever they wanted." He scowled down at his hands. "Almost anything, anyway." He had not allowed Miranda to seduce him. He supposed he should count himself lucky. Who knew what had happened to her when she was the innocent being forced to become a host to Nagaina? No one was born evil.

"If it was another man who had been kidnapped, awoke in darkness, with little food or hope for countless days, would you judge him harshly for clinging to the light when it was offered."

"Patty Hearst still served time in prison. Even though she was kept in a closet for weeks, and was threatened with death and sexual assault." He said.

"I did not ask about legal culpability."

"It wasn't another man, Pop, it was me."

"It also was not a natural darkness." He said "Not with their artifact outside your door. It did not just represent their cult, or house their disembodied avatar, it is a source of chaos that was bringing violence and death to this city on a scale that frightened Blaisdell enough that he sent your mother and sisters away." He got up and moved to sit beside Peter on his bed. "The darkness you were confined in, was meant to cause terror and despair."

"I hear what you're saying. But it doesn't change that once I was out of … the darkness," it was hard to even talk about it without the panic welling in his chest, "I let them do whatever they wanted. I let them make me into the host for Nag."

"What choice did you have? Did they ask your permission?" He asked "And did you not tell me that you, like my grandfather, retaliated against the man you thought had killed a friend, a mentor? Even though it would make them punish you?"

"I didn't think about it. I just reacted." He said.

" As did my grandfather. You would not have been able to do so if you were truly broken."

"I didn't fight when she said I had to go back," He took a breath," into that room. What does that say about me?"

"What does it say when an innocent man lets himself be put into prison without trying to fight or run?"

"It's not the same, Pop." He said.

"Were you not innocent? "

He laughed a little "That time, no. I actually did beat the crap out of Kline. Wardens hate it when you beat up the guards." He said "Look, I know what you're trying to say. I get it logically. I guess I'm just not ready to hear it emotionally."

"Healing-"

"Takes time. I know, Pop, I know."

Blaisdell let Kermit into his home and led the way to the den. They had made a point of checking his entire house for listening devices after those found in McGuire's place in New River City. As expected they found them. Instead of ripping them out, he left them in place and had instead scripted conversations for the benefit of anyone that was listening at the time.

"How is ya holding up?" Kermit asked.

"I'm tired. I'm thinking about taking some time off to go try and patch things up with Annie. I could use some time in the sun anyway. Florida is supposed to be great this time of year." Annie was in California with her sister. "You hear all the time about couples whose marriage falls apart over the death of a child. You don't think it would happen with an adult child though."

"No one has found Peter's body. There is no proof that he's dead."

"He's been missing since February 3rd. What? You think he's just out there, no car, no gun, no money all this time?" He asked. "The commissioner is after me to replace him at the precinct."

"Tell him it would take three people working overtime to replace Peter Caine," Kermit said.

"Three people working overtime would give me less grief." Paul said, "And still not come close to filling the hole he left behind." He shook his head and sighed.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Sometime last week."

"I know the last time you ate and it was one of the donuts the guys deposited on your desk. Come on, let me buy you dinner."

"I don't think so." He said, "I'm not in the mood."

"It's either we go out to get something to eat or I go into the kitchen and make something to eat."

"I believe that is called threatening a police officer," Blaisdell said.

"Does that count when it's a cop doing the threatening?" Kermit asked "Come on… let's go. You really don't want me to go in there and mess up Annie's kitchen if you're planning on a reconciliation."

Paul sighed and made it sound as though he was reluctant. "Fine. But I'm picking the restaurant."

Miranda frowned as she listened to the conversation.

"It sounds like the teacher's pet is on the run," Kline said.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Nag would have said. Any word on his father and the other priests that rescued him?"

"No, not yet. Chinatown isn't talking either. They've clammed up every time we send someone looking for Caine."

Miranda laughed. "So much for coming to Chinatown, ask for Caine, he will help you." She said "Small victories I suppose. Give it a few days. The priests might be able to maintain that level of vigilance for an indefinite period, but the average person in Chinatown won't. They like their priests where they can see them. It's like rubbing the belly of a plastic laughing Buddha. It brings them luck." She said.

"People don't believe that do they?" Kline asked.

"Not really. It's also not Buddha unless you believe that he not only renounced his place among India's royalty but altered his ethnicity as well. Starting tomorrow I want you out and about in Chinatown."

"He'll see me coming a mile away."

"That's the point." She said, "Flush them out like Quail."

Kermit and Blaisdell pulled into the parking lot of a diner just outside of town. Once inside Kermit took out a file folder and set it in front of his friend. "Okay, this is what I was able to find out about Detective Cavenaugh over in New River." He picked up a menu to look at it. "Including that he's the late deputy mayor's cousin."

"I don't know why you bother with the menu. You haven't ordered anything different in the 10 years we've been coming here."

"You never know." He said, "I might find something new."

Paul looked over the file, making notes in the margins, and underlining things. "Now that we've put it in their heads that we need to replace Peter there will be someone transferring in from out of town, and I would bet a month's pay that they'll have a particular signet ring."

"Unless they know we've figured it out. So I guess we're just going to have to be suspicious of anyone that transfers in. Even if it's from across town."

Paul laughed. "That is your natural state of being, Kermit. Sometimes I think you're suspicious of me."

"You? Never. I keep an eye on what everyone is up to, especially the people I care about. How long do you think we have before Peter bolts?"

"It took his father and I talking him down to keep it from happening the minute he first came to." He said with a frown. "They were holding the people he loves over his head. If Annie and the girls had still been in town he'd have snuck out that night and handed himself back into their hands. Eventually, he's going to feel trapped staying in a pint-sized monastery."

"I've got the preliminary work done for new identification for him and his father. Not that Caine had any, to begin with. Sometimes I think I should retire and write novels for a living. Backgrounds aren't that different."

"Keep it simple with Caine. He won't lie well. Peter will go with the flow. He knows the things that make a cop think you're lying. He'll avoid them. Caine tells the truth and people ask questions."

"You gotta admit, it's hard to imagine someone with no ID in this day and age. It's a big ole red flag They get fingerprinted and it's all over. Even I can't erase those records. "

"If they have ID in the first place it will be less likely that the police will fingerprint them." He said. "I don't think I'll have much trouble convincing Caine to take Peter and leave town until we sort this out. The one who is going to give me trouble is Peter. He'll be afraid that he won't be able to protect us."

"He can't protect anyone right now," Kermit said.

"You have clearly never tried talking logic to my son when his emotions are in control."

"I've never tried talking logic to Peter when his emotions weren't in control. I have better ways to waste my time." The waitress came over and he smiled at her and placed his order.

Paul laughed "For instance reading menus." Well, at least some things in life never changed.

Lo Si worked alongside the Shamballa apothecary mixing herbs from both his world and those that only grew in Shamballa.

Master Yi handed him another handful of leaves. "This will help protect his qi if the creature is feeding on it."

Lo Si nodded "That is my hope." He said as he ground things into a powder and put them into a larger bowl. "He is a good man. Impulsive, but his heart is in the right place. He is the last in the line of Kwai Chang." He said.

"He is Shaolin?"

"No. He spent his early childhood in a temple, but it was destroyed and he was separated from his father until this past year. I believe they found him when they were reunited." He shook his head.

"Why not remove the shadow of the snake from his mind."

"He does not wish another to take his place. He is a police officer, it is not the first time he has risked himself to save others." He said

"And you allow this?" he asked "Even though it endangers all of Shaolin?"

"We do not force people to do what we wish. It would make us no better than the evil we fight. Besides if the Harbingers do not have both of their leaders in human form, it makes them easier to defeat."

"But the prophecy!"

"It is not time for that prophecy to come to pass. Nor will it if we treat him as you suggest and force our will upon him. It would make us no better than those who took him in the first place." There was only so much manipulation Peter would tolerate in one lifetime. He knew from talking to Caine that Peter knew he was Ping Hai and that he had engineered to keep father and son apart. There was much anger there. It was why he had avoided Peter since he wakened. Any further manipulation could turn him away from the Shaolin in ways that the Harbingers could not.

"I yield to your superior knowledge on the line of Kwai Chang and this man in specific." He said.

They combined the ground herbs and mixed them thoroughly. They added water to the mixture then spread the paste into a thin sheet and divided it into dosage-sized squares.

"While this dries I will be in the library," He said. "Thank you for your help."

Master Yi bowed slightly and then returned to his studies.

Paul Blaisdell settled into his easy chair and turned on the television for the eleven o'clock news.

The reporters spoke of how the clean-up was going at the bombing site, and how the bombing had been the shock the city needed to put a halt to the escalating violence. Another spoke of the overcrowding in the hospitals and how Miranda Gray had graciously allowed her building to be used as a secondary hospital sight for those who did not require surgery or critical care.

"All hail, St Miranda." He grumbled under his breath.

"In today's top story" The commentator began, "Mayor David Conlin was arrested this afternoon and charged with the murder of Deputy Mayor Harold Cavenaugh. Mr. Cavenaugh was found in a back alley in the business district less than a quarter mile from the fallen building. He had been bludgeoned to death with a bottle of scotch. A bottle with Mayor Conlin's fingerprints all over it."

"He'll never get a fair trial now," Blaisdell said and shook his head in frustration. He narrowed his eyes, "It'll wind up a miss trial at best. When will these damned reporters learn to keep their mouths shut." He said for the benefit of those listening to his home. He hoped it wound up a miss trial. But he'd seen people convicted with less. He didn't think much of the man, but he also didn't believe he needed to be railroaded into prison either. No one deserved that.